Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Sam stepped into the restroom, moving as if in a trance.
It can’t be.
That initial glimpse had sent trickles of cold spreading through her body, and she’d followed, her heart hammering, blood pounding in her ears. She didn’t lose sight of her quarry for an instant, hoping against hope that she was wrong.
Lord, she so wanted to be wrong.
Outside there was still the noise and bustle of the crowd as they exited the stadium, and she prayed no one else came in. Two of the stalls appeared occupied, and Sam stood by the hand dryer, making no sound to alert either of the occupants to her presence.
Waiting.
A toilet flushed, and she tensed, her stomach rock hard, her chest tight.
The stall door closest to her opened, and Sam almost collapsed with relief when an unknown woman exited it, heading for the sinks.
She gazed at Sam, who did her best to appear nonchalant, a near impossible task given the circumstances.
She gave the woman a polite smile, not moving from her own position as the woman dried her hands and went toward the door, with one backward glance at Sam before she went out onto the concourse, the door closing behind her.
Now it’s just you and me.
Sam was numb, her mind still unable to grasp what her eyes had seen. She put one hand on the wall, seeking some support, willing herself to stay upright, waiting for…
The stall door opened, and Michelle Martin walked out.
Oh dear Lord.
Then it was true.
Michelle snapped her head up when she caught sight of Sam.
Her eyes bulged, and she took a step back, momentarily freezing.
Apart from the Sharks shirt she wore over fashionably faded jeans, she looked as she always did.
Her hair was pinned up, creating a fountain of brown curls, her makeup perfect.
Over her shoulder was a capacious purse.
There was a ringing in Sam’s ears and a light-headedness that made her dizzy.
Michelle recovered fast. She arched her sculpted brows and looked Sam in the eye.
“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”
Sam’s throat seized, but she managed a croak. “How does the line go? ‘The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.’”
“So it would seem.” Michelle cocked her head to one side.
“I’d change my stylist, if I were you. That cut does nothing for you.
Still, what do they say? ‘What’s the difference between a good haircut and a bad one?
About two weeks.’” She smirked. “Personally, I think it’s going to take a lot longer than that. Pity. I always loved your hair.”
Damn it, Sam couldn’t get the words out.
How can she manage to sound so… normal?
Then Michelle scowled, and the beautiful, gentle woman Sam had known for ten years vanished.
“I’m not surprised you’re speechless, not after the stunt you pulled. I can’t begin to tell you how hurt Robert was, how… betrayed he felt, when he realized what you’d done.”
That last part cracked the vise around Sam’s throat.
“What I’ve done? Are you for real?” She latched onto Michelle’s unintentional confirmation; Robert had noticed the disappearance of the notebooks. Sam struggled to find a modicum of calm. “What are you doing here, Michelle?”
It had to be a coincidence.
It had to be. Because the alternative….
Michelle seemed unperturbed by the question. “Playing golf, of course. Johannesburg has some fabulous courses. I’d always wanted to visit, so—”
“So you left your husband at home—your husband who is recovering from a heart attack, let’s not forget that part—and flew thousands of miles to play a few rounds?
Oh, and also take in a rugby final while you were here?
” Sam searched for the name she knew was in her head somewhere.
“So what did you think of the Royal Johannesburg and Kensington Golf Club?”
Michelle went completely still, but only for a moment. She gave a shrug. “Not bad. The course was better than some I’ve played on.”
Sam nodded. “You were there Thursday. Was that where you met someone who worked as a consulate secretary? Or maybe that was where you met John Winter or Richard Powell?”
Please tell me I’ve got this wrong.
Please.
Michelle exhaled, then removed the purse from her shoulder and placed it on the counter next to the sink. “Seeing as you’re so well-informed, there seems little point in hiding.” She reached into it. “You asked me what I’m doing here.”
She removed a small black tote bag and put that on the counter too.
Aw shit.
There was still time. Maybe Sam could reason with her, make her see sense.
“I’m here because Robert needed my help.”
She opened the tote bag, and Sam caught the fine short crackle as the Velcro strips separated.
“And when I learned what he intended doing, I was only too happy to provide that help.”
Michelle tugged at something unseen, then removed a paper cup.
Sam froze.
Michelle slid her fingers into the cup and pulled out a CPU fan, a wire trailing behind it, then dropped both into the trash beside her.
No.
God no.
The final part of the puzzle popped into place when Michelle held the nebulizer over the trash can, her gaze locked on Sam, and dropped it as though it was nothing.
As though it was a used nebulizer that had played its part.
Sam brought her hand to her chest, as if that would stop the pain that speared through it. There was nothing but ice in her veins, edging its way to her heart.
“You’ve done it. You crazy bitch, you’ve already done it.” She gaped at Michelle. “Why? Why would you do something so… so heinous?”
Michelle regarded her with mild surprise. “I told you. He needed me.”
“That’s not an answer!” she yelled.
Michelle’s eyes flashed. “You really want to know? Fine. The world needs to change, and Robert’s going to bring about that change.
” Her face hardened. “You couldn’t possibly understand because you don’t have children.
You haven’t seen your child die in a war-torn country.
And once I learned why Robert was doing this, I was only too glad to help. ”
Sam gasped, her chest now so tight that breathing was a chore. “So Robert sells out, produces bioweapons for the government, and you help him conduct one of his tests? Michelle, you… you just helped him kill thousands of people.” Her mind struggled to comprehend the enormity of Michelle’s actions.
Michelle frowned. “Robert isn’t working for the government. He’s doing this to save lives.” Her expression grew cold. “You’re with those people who’ve been watching John and Richard, aren’t you? Those bastards are the reason we had to change my plan.”
“Your plan?” Sam never thought she’d hear such a word fall from Michelle’s lips. A woman who’d been the epitome of gentleness and grace.
God, this couldn’t be happening.
“We were all set up to release it at halftime—until we realized we were being watched.” Michelle smirked.
“It actually worked out better this way. There was always the possibility they’d throw a security cordon around the stadium, or try to quarantine thousands of people.
Not a likely possibility, I grant you, but nevertheless…
. So we decided to wait until the game was over.
And instead of the halftime crowds, we had all those people leaving the stadium, huddled together, all those bodies.
” The skin around her mouth tightened. “I didn’t run it for as long as I’d planned, but I think it will do its job.
” Her cold smile sent a shiver through Sam.
“And there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
” Her phone buzzed, and she took it out of her purse.
Michelle glanced at the screen and smiled.
“This is where I say goodbye. My two guardian angels are outside, waiting for me. The coast, as they say, is clear.” She tilted her head.
“Can we give you a ride back to the US? I wouldn’t stick around here too long if I were you, especially if you haven’t had your shots.
” Michelle dumped the tote bag into the trash, replaced her purse on her shoulder, and strolled past Sam as though she was heading for a pleasant walk in the park.
Sam grabbed her by the arm, and Michelle jerked her head in Sam’s direction.
“Some people really need to recognize when they’ve lost,” she said through gritted teeth. She shrugged free of Sam’s weak grasp and opened the door. Sam followed—
And almost ran into the back of Michelle when Gary, Nathan, and Bosman blocked her exit.
Gary’s back was rigid.
“Michelle Martin, you’ll be escorted from here to the US Consulate, and once you’re back on US soil, you’ll be arrested on a charge of bioterrorism.” Bile rose in his throat at the thought of the devastation she’d wreaked.
She blinked. “This is a joke, right? You have no jurisdiction here. You’re a Boston cop.”
“You’re right, he doesn’t.” Bosman’s voice held steel.
“But I do.” He held an earpiece in one hand.
“And based on what I just heard from your own lips, I’m not going to let them extradite you.
I’ll make sure you stand trial here. By the time that trial takes place, we’ll know exactly how many deaths you have on your hands—you and your husband.
” He nodded to a couple of his men, who stepped forward and cuffed her.
Then he addressed Nathan. “We’ll take her to headquarters in Parktown. ”
Nathan nodded. “I’ll call you as soon as we’ve finished up here. Then we can decide what happens next.”
Gary watched as they led Michelle away, a strangely silent Michelle who clearly hadn’t anticipated capture.
Sam stared at Nathan. “You heard that?” Her face was pale.
“We all did. It took us a while to work out which restroom you were in. I think we shocked a few ladies when my guys burst in.”
Sam’s breathing was so quick, Gary feared she was hyperventilating. “Forget about restrooms and tell me why you’re still standing here. Call the WHO, the CDC, anyone you can think of, and tell them what’s happened. Now!”
“Will you all just stop?” Dan walked over to them, a little out of breath. Stu, Wulf, and John Winter joined him. Winter’s hands were cuffed.
Dan caught his breath. “You can’t prosecute her.”
Nathan’s eyes widened. “For what she did?”
Dan’s cheeks were flushed. “But that’s just it. She didn’t do anything.”