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Echoes of Danger
Echoes of Danger
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Echoes of Danger

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Tony leaned back in his swivel chair. “And she’s offered to buy your place?”

“She’s hinted at it very strongly, but I never offered to sell.”

“You thought about it, though. Maybe now would be a good time to do just that. Maybe that’s all she’s after.”

“I am the only holdout,” Dana said. “And she does seem to want all the land around there. But I don’t want to lose it, not even now. And I certainly don’t intend to be bullied out of my daddy’s land.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You don’t have many choices left, sugar. Time was, you would have gladly sold that land to anyone with a good offer—let alone someone trying to kill you.”

“That was before,” she said, looking over to where Stevie sat playing a maze-type video game with Tony’s state-of-theart gadgets. “When Mom and Dad died, Stevie didn’t take it so well, remember. I couldn’t uproot him so soon after all that. He loves the farm, so I stayed. And I’ll keep on staying until he’s better able to handle a move.”

“I’ve heard this tale before,” Tony reminded her. “That’s all very noble, but it also means you don’t have a life. And we both know that’s why you and I aren’t together today.”

She made a hushing sound. “I don’t want to get into that, Tony. Stevie and I are a package deal, take it or leave it. You chose to leave it.”

He twisted his lips tightly together and shrugged. “But hey, you’re here now, both of you.”

“Not for long,” she reassured him. “I’ve been thinking about my options. I can’t get the sheriff to help me. I don’t have much money. The creditors and the bank are probably closing in right now. If this Roark woman bides her time, she’ll have my land anyway.”

“So—” Tony raised both hands and let them drop on the worn chair arms “—exactly what are your options?”

She gave him a direct look. “What’d you find out about my friend Bren?”

Tony sat up straight, then eyed her curiously. “Oh, that one. Well, as I said, when you play, you run with the big dogs.” He shifted through his download to find what he was looking for. “Bren, from Wichita—if I have the right Bren from Wichita based on the phone number and full name of Brendan Donovan on that card—is one powerful dude, too. And he seems to be the same Brendan Donovan I’ve heard so much about over the years. I read all about him in my techno magazines. That is what they can find on him. The man is very reclusive and secretive, and very powerful in the technology world.”

That caught Dana’s attention. She had mixed feelings about the stranger, and she had to know more before she followed through on her plan. “Tell me.”

“Wichita Industries is a catch-all name for various businesses and holdings owned by Brendan Donovan. He has so many holdings and companies, it’s hard to say what all he does own. In Wichita, he for sure owns a private airplane factory, which he bought out when it was going under a few years back. Donovan Aer—spelled A-E-R—builds private airplanes for people who have lots of money to spend, but there is a small chain of computers and software equipment under that name, too. So that’s probably why your friend Bren was headed to Wichita. Checking on business, I guess.”

Dana took a sip of Coke, the syrupy sweetness hitting her churning stomach at the same time her doubts hit home. “Okay, but what was he doing on a county road in the middle of Kansas?”

Tony grinned. “I’m getting there, sweetheart. It seems Brendan Donovan is the heir to a vast fortune, which he’s doubled over the years. The man’s into everything, technology—there’s that word again—manufacturing, airplanes, land…Oh, and this is a really good one—shoes.”

Dana scrunched her brow. “Shoes?”

“Yep.” Tony playfully kicked one of her feet with his own bare toes. “He owns Ruby Athletics, doll face. He owns the very shoes your brother is wearing, the hottest active shoes on the market right now, the Ruby Runners.”

Dana looked down at her brother’s feet, not believing what Tony had just told her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I don’t kid when I’m reading a printout,” Tony informed her. “And as to why he was on that road the other day, I think I can help you there, too. Did he happen to express any interest in your friend Caryn’s church?”

“Not really. He said he didn’t have a church home.” But she remembered how he’d stared across the prairie at the church. Dana sat up, waiting for Tony to spill the rest of his findings. “What about it?”

Tony’s smile was pure enticement. “Just as I suspected when you mentioned his name, and now that I know we’re talking about the same Brendan here, our friend Bren hails from the same hallowed ground as your enemy Caryn. In fact, if my research is correct, why, they’re practically neighbors; they both own estates in County Cork.”

“Ireland?” Dana asked in a whisper.

“Ireland,” Tony repeated dramatically. “Now, how’s that for coincidence?”

Chapter Four

Dana jumped up to pace around the unlit, windowless room. “It might be just that, a coincidence.” She refused to believe Bren could be mixed up with the likes of Caryn Roark.

Tony dropped the papers on top of a pile that seemed to be growing from the dark brown carpet next to the chair. “Yeah, but what are the odds of two people from Ireland being in rural Kansas at the same time?”

Dana whirled to face him. “Caryn didn’t speak with an Irish accent.” Trying to remember how the woman had sounded, she admitted, “She is very cultured. Very formal. Maybe there was a trace, but Bren—he could definitely be Irish.”

“Maybe he was visiting the complex,” Tony offered as he popped the top on a soda, then took a huge swig. “Hey, I’m hungry. Want Chinese or pizza for dinner?”

Dana continued to pace. “I don’t care.”

“Pizza,” Stephen said from his crossed-legged stance on the floor in front of the television. “Stephen wants pizza.”

Dana watched as Tony conjured up the nearest pizza joint on one of his monitors and ordered a large with everything. She had to wonder if he ever left his apartment.

Having provided dinner, Tony turned back to her, his eyes as bright as the simulated picture of fish swimming on the monitor behind him. “Hey, you don’t want to believe this man is in with Roark, I know. But it sure looks that way. I’ve heard things about Brendan Donovan—how he doesn’t like to be in the limelight, how he shuns publicity, and maybe this is why. Maybe he’s one of her followers.”

Dana watched the bubbles floating on the screen behind Tony. “No, he was interested in the church, but when I asked him if he was a member, he…he said no.”

Tony’s lips tipped up at the corners. “Could he have been lying?”

She shook her head. “It was the way he said no, and the way he looked. I got the feeling he did not approve of the church at all.”

“Then why was he there?”

“I don’t know.” She sank back down on the couch. “All I know is that he protected me during the storm, and he helped us afterward. He even told me if I needed anything to call—”

Tony groaned, lifting his eyes to give her a long stare. “And you’re thinking about doing just that?”

She shrugged. “Well, I was. He seemed secure. I believe he’ll help me.”

“A perfect stranger! Get real, Dana.”

Before she could respond, a message came through on the e-mail again. Tony jumped over to the terminal to read it out loud.

“‘What is the most important thing in life? To lay down one’s life for a brother.’”

Dana looked around as if someone were watching them. “She knows I’m here, Tony.” Lowering her voice, she whispered, “She knows and she’s threatening Stevie again. She’s aware of his problems, and she could easily influence him if she gets her hands on him. I’ve got to get away from here!”

Tony grabbed her to pull her around. “Hold on. Where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” she said, a mortal fear pumping through her system. “I don’t know.”

“What’s the matter?” Stephen asked, his attention diverted completely from his video game to Dana’s frightened face. “Dana’s sad. What’s wrong, Dana?”

“Nothing, Stevie. I’m just worried, is all. Your pizza will be here soon.”

Stephen watched his sister. “You sure, Dana? You sure you’re all right?”

Tony clapped his hands together. “She’s just being a drag,” he said. “Hey, ready to take on the champ, pal?”

“Yeah,” Stephen said, “but I’m warning you. I’m real good at video games.”

“Give me that other control,” Tony said, his tone mockdeadly. “I’ll take you on anytime, anywhere.”

Dana, thankful that Tony was at least trying to pacify Stephen, thought back over the message they’d just received. How did Caryn Roark know she was here? Maybe she’d asked around town and found out that Dana and Tony were friends. Maybe she’d had them followed. Or maybe not. That would be too obvious for someone like Caryn Roark. No, whatever method she was using, Dana was sure it was very underhanded and very secretive. And very high-tech, since someone had obviously found a way to get to Tony’s computer files. But why was the woman still after her? She’d won, hadn’t she? Dana had lost the farm and she’d run away, to protect her brother, to think her way through this, to save her sanity. What more could the woman want?

What if the woman didn’t stop until she had Stephen?

“I can’t let that happen,” Dana said out loud.

Luckily Tony was making such a ruckus with Stephen, neither of them heard. They didn’t hear the doorbell, either.

“I’ll get it,” Dana said. “Probably the pizza man.”

“There’s a twenty on the counter,” Tony said, his eyes never leaving the blur of speeding cars on the television screen.

Dana opened the door and absently took the warm pizza box, her mind preoccupied with other things. Then she handed the delivery boy his money, her eyes touching on his briefly. He looked familiar—

“Thank you,” the boy said, a serene smile plastered across his skinny face. He left so quickly, Dana didn’t connect on why he looked familiar. Shutting the door, she said, “This is one large pizza, and heavily loaded from the weight of it.”

“Set it on the coffee table,” Tony said over his shoulder. “We’ll be there as soon as I finish winning this race.”

“Right.” Looking for a fairly level spot on all the magazines and papers on the long, beat-up table, Dana dropped the pizza box on top. That’s when the lid popped open just enough for her to see the gadget inside.

“Tony,” she said, her heart jumping right along with whatever was in the box. “Tony, come here a minute.”

“Hold on.”

“Now, Tony.”

Something in the panicked tone of her voice got Tony’s attention. “Pause it, Stevie,” he said as he pushed up off the floor. “What’s the matter—no jalapeños?”

Dana pulled him close. “No, something we didn’t order. Listen.”

He did, his eyes widening as they locked with hers. “Get Stevie,” he said, “and go, go as fast as you can. Get out of the building. It might be nothing, just a joke. Just go and I’ll come down and get you after I check it out.”

“I can’t leave you,” she said, her hands clutching his arm. “Come with us.”

“No way. I can’t let anything happen to my equipment.”

“Forget the computers. Come on, Tony!”

He leaned toward the box. “Go on. I know a little bit about detonating bombs. I learned it on the Internet. Go! I’ll call 911, I promise.”

Afraid to leave, but even more afraid to stay, Dana lifted Stephen up. “Listen, sport, I want you to come with me for a few minutes.”

Stephen looked confused. “Hey, what about my pizza? I want pizza.”

“We’ll eat when we get back,” she explained. “Right now I want to try out your new runners. We haven’t really had a chance to go for a good run since we got them.”

“Dana, now?” He rolled his eyes. “I’m hungry and I want to finish this game.” He placed his arms over his chest in a defiant stance.

The box ticked away.

“Now, Stephen. Don’t ask questions, just come on.”

“But I don’t want to run. It’s getting dark out there and we don’t know our way around. You told me, never run in the dark.”

“We’ll be okay. Now, don’t argue with me, Stephen.”

Throwing his controller down in a fit of anger, Stephen glared at his sister. “I don’t want to go.”

“But you are, sport.” Eyeing Tony, who stood staring at the ticking pizza box, she heaved Stephen by the collar, praying he wouldn’t have a tantrum. “We’ll just go around the corner.”

She reached the door, grabbed her purse and took one last look at Tony. “Be careful,” she said. “Call a bomb squad or something—call somebody, Tony!”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, his grin fixed and unsure. “Go, and Dana, you be careful, too.”

“Okay.” She felt the tears pressing at the back of her eyes. “Ready, Stevie?”

“No, no. Don’t want to go.”

“You don’t get to decide,” Dana replied. “We have to leave now, Stephen.”

They made it to the small lobby, where a security guard nodded indifferently at them.

Dana called to the man, “I think we’ve got a bomb threat in apartment 201.”

The guard snapped to attention, automatically reaching for the nearest phone. “Hey, wait a minute!” he shouted to Dana.

She didn’t stop. She pulled Stephen along at a brisk trot, mindless of his complaints. The city was dark and misty. It had been raining. Car lights flashed in her face, but Dana didn’t notice. She looked down the nearly deserted street.

She turned back to get a grip on her exact location, taking one last look at the apartment building. Then the earth shook and in a matter of seconds, part of the building blew up and out into the sky. The blast sent glass flying and bricks falling. Somewhere someone screamed and a baby began to cry.

Frozen in horror at first, Dana sprang to life. “Tony!” she cried as she ran back toward the building. “Tony!”

Stephen screamed, too, then began to cry. “Dana? What happened? Where’s Tony?” His screams turned into a high-pitched wail that would only get worse if she didn’t calm him down.

People began to run out into the streets, pushing and shoving, questioning. Dana held Stephen close, watching as the remainder of the building settled back into itself, hissing and burning. What used to be Tony’s apartment was now a hollowed-out hull with charred, tangled computer equipment strewn across its blank face. The air was heavy with smoke and falling cinders, the acrid smell cutting off her frightened breath. Closing her eyes, she bit back the tears wailing inside her. A silent scream roared through her pounding head. This scene was too familiar. This was too soon, too quick, too much.

Tony was dead, and it was her fault. All her fault.

“I have to find him,” she said out loud, grabbing Stephen to pull him back toward the building.

Sirens blared all around her; paramedics arrived in ambulances, pushing the sightseers and shocked neighbors aside.

“Tony,” she said, trying to tell someone, anyone, where he was. “Tony is in there.”