Into Dust. B.J. Daniels

wrong, though.” He shrugged when she turned to look at him.

      “Find anything?”

      “The bottom drawer is locked. I’m going to have to break the lock.”

      She raised a brow at that.

      He had hoped to get in and out quickly and not leave any evidence that he’d been here. Reconciled, he quickly stepped to the door and closed it. His father had hired a security firm that checked the building several times during the night. They came by at midnight and 3:00 a.m. Jack glanced at his watch. It was only a little after eleven.

      Back at the desk, he took his father’s letter opener and began to pry at the lock. Cassidy, he noticed, had moved to another wall of photos. For a moment, Jack worried that his father might have a snapshot of him. But apparently he didn’t have to worry.

      The lock finally gave and he pulled open the drawer, surprised to find it held only one item—a large metal box. He took it out, a little taken aback by how light it was. If his father kept a little spare money in here, it wasn’t much. Something inside it gave a metallic rattle. Like the drawer, the box was locked.

      “Did you hear that?” Cassidy said, suddenly next to him.

      He hadn’t heard anything but the noise he’d been making himself. He listened for a moment. This time it definitely wasn’t the old plumbing. He knew the sound of the old freight elevator only too well. It banged and clanked and whined. Which meant someone had pressed the button on the ground floor and was now on his way up.

      Jack tried to gauge if they had time to make a run for it. Unfortunately, the stairwell was at the opposite end of the hall. He couldn’t take the chance.

      He quickly closed the drawer with the broken lock. With luck, whoever it was wouldn’t notice—assuming this office was where they were headed. It hit him that if his father had been lying about where he was, he would be the one coming up here right now.

      The elevator came to a noisy stop, the doors groaning open. An instant later, Jack heard the sound of heavy footfalls headed in their direction.

      * * *

      SARAH OPENED HER eyes and stretched, surprised to find herself lying on the couch. Her body ached as if she’d been curled up in the fetal position for a very long time.

      “How do you feel?” Dr. Venable’s voice was soft and soothing. He had put the pendulum away. She had the feeling that time had passed, but she couldn’t remember it passing.

      She nodded, not wanting to speak, just wanting to stretch and breathe. Her headache was gone and she was thankful for that. Remembering it, though, she recalled that he had promised to restore her memory. She sat up abruptly.

      “Easy,” he said. “You might feel a little dizzy.”

      She searched her memory. She couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten from a chair at the table to this couch.

      “You are going to give yourself a headache if you try to remember everything at once. Take it slow. Start here.” He handed her the photographs again.

      “I already told you. I don’t know those people.” At his insistence, she took the snapshots again. She knew the headache was only an instant away if she kept trying so hard to remember even the simplest things. She closed her eyes for a moment.

      When she opened them, she glanced down at the top photo and felt shock ricochet through her.

      It was a candid shot of a handsome young man. His name came to her in an instant. Joe Landon. She felt her heart do a bump against her ribs. Her mouth went dry and she couldn’t speak. The memories swept over her. Tangled sheets, bodies damp with sweat, skin dimpling as a breeze stirred the curtains and washed over their nakedness.

      The memories brought goose bumps that raced over her as she recalled the feel of her long-lost lover’s warm flesh against hers.

      “Joe,” she said after a moment and her eyes filled with tears.

      “Yes,” Dr. Venable said and smiled.

      “Is he...?”

      “Alive? Yes. He is most anxious to see you,” he added, sounding pleased that whatever he’d done to her, she now remembered.

      She looked up at him, shock rocking the already cracked foundation of her life. Earlier she would have sworn that she didn’t know these people, had never seen them before.

      Now she looked at the other photographs. With a start, she realized she recognized all of the people in the shots. The most terrifying was when she recognized herself. She was the woman with the dyed red hair, she was— Dropping the photos in her lap, she hugged herself against the horrible truth. “I’m Red. I was a member of The Prophecy. I was...”

      “The leader. You still can be.”

      She shook her head and stumbled to her feet. It all came back to her. She’d been part of the anarchist group back in college that had led to the death of innocent people. What was even more shocking was that she had believed in what they’d hoped to accomplish. She’d come up with the plan. How was that possible?

      “You were the leader. You and Joe. It’s true.”

      She took a few steps away from him, hugging herself and shaking her head. Her skin felt clammy and cold. Her head whirled. She felt weak and sick to her stomach. But she remembered the names they’d used instead of their real names. Dr. Venable had been Doc. She’d been Red. Joe... Joe had been Achilles, the strongest and most fearless warrior in the Greek war against the Trojans.

      A more current memory slammed into her thoughts. “John Carter and Warren Dodge tried to kill my daughter Kat!”

      Doc looked sorrowful, but nodded. “Your daughter had to be stopped. She was getting too close. As it was, Joe had to scramble to protect you when they were caught. Sarah, you are still Red. You are still their leader. The Prophecy is depending on you.”

      “No.” She turned to face him. “No.”

      “You owe the others. They have sacrificed for you. They got Virginia Handley to confess to being Red to save you.”

      “No.” She took a step back. She wanted to run but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped because now she knew that all of it was true. The nightmares, the memories of a powerful automatic weapon bucking in her hands, the taste of vodka on her lips, that feeling of being so powerful that she believed she could conquer the world. “Why would Virginia do that?”

      “You remember Virginia. She lived on your floor at college. She would have done anything back then to be in The Prophecy. She’s the one who took all of these photographs. But she was wrong for us. When we found her again after all these years, she jumped at the chance to protect you. Also, she is dying of cancer. By the time her trial date comes up, she’ll be gone.”

      Sarah stumbled to a chair and sat down hard. With her head in her hands, she said, “John is dead and Warren...”

      “He will gladly go to prison. Just as Wally McGill and Mason Green have served their time like a badge of honor. We swore an oath all those years ago to give our lives to the cause. No one has broken that oath.” There was a slight hesitation in his voice. “Except you.”

      “Even after all these years?” she cried, thinking these people must be crazy fanatics and that she was once one of them.

      “Of course, after all these years. The Prophecy has been working in other parts of the world, waiting to do something big here in the States. That’s why I’m here. It’s time to finish what we started all those years ago.”

      While she had no idea what that was, she knew enough to fear it. She raised her head to look at him. He hadn’t lied. He knew her. She could see it in his eyes. It was almost as if he could read her mind, know what she was going to do even before she did. He knew about Russell and that she’d been ready to confide in him. He also knew how she felt about Buck.

      Sarah