Left again at the first feeder street. Where in the hell was she going?
The truck pulled into the Westmoreland Community Center parking lot. Rudker cruised past the entrance and took the next driveway into the adjacent middle school. He circled back and parked by the street about 200 yards from Sula’s truck. She was already out of her vehicle and walking toward a blue minivan.
Rudker watched with curiosity as a little blond boy, who looked about four, got out of the van and ran up to Sula. The boy gave her a quick hug around the legs, then grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the playground. Perplexed, Rudker wondered whose kid he was. He’d checked Sula’s HR file to find her address and cell phone number-then had read her whole file just for sport-but he hadn’t seen anything about a kid. Who were the people in the minivan?
Rudker found the development amusing. Even if the boy wasn’t hers, she was clearly attached to him, and that meant he represented leverage. It was just a matter of figuring out how best to use the information.
He played out a scenario, vocalizing his end of the conversation, but the script needed work. He modified the dialogue and altered his tone. A cold calm delivery could be more affective than an aggressive threat. When he was confident he had it right, Rudker dialed Sula’s number. It rang three times and went to her voicemail. He quickly hung up. Damn. She must have left the phone in her truck.
He waited. This round of sitting didn’t bother him as much as the last two stretches. Knowing he was close to making his move and scaring her off her mission gave him some peace of mind.
Watching her on the swing set with the little boy made Rudker think of his son at that age. Robbie had not been very robust. His son had preferred to play indoors and was always moody. Sweet one minute and distant and sad the next. He’d loved the boy anyway and tried to engage him whenever he could. He still loved Robbie dearly and would make a point to call him when this was over.
After an hour, the woman in the minivan got out and called out. Sula and the boy both looked up. Sula walked the child back toward the van, stopping about ten feet away from the woman. From Rudker’s vantage point, it looked like they didn’t speak to each other. Once the boy was with the other woman, Sula turned away and returned to her truck. The people in the van quickly left the parking lot, but Sula sat for a minute. Rudker suspected she might be feeling emotional at the moment-making it exactly the right moment to strike.
Chapter 30
Sula breathed deeply and repeated her mantra. Every moment I have with him is precious, and I will see him again. As she pulled out into the street, her cell phone rang, startling her. She received so few calls. She fumbled it out of her purse and finally managed to get it next to her ear. “Hello.”
“Was that your son?”
Rudker’s voice was in her ear, asking about Tate. Sula’s heart stopped for a moment, then raced like a frightened rabbit. She was too stunned to respond.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” His voice was calm, quiet, and terrifying. “You want him to be safe, correct?”
She pulled off the street and parked, unable to think straight. How did he know about Tate? Was the bastard watching her? She looked around, but didn’t see his Jeep. “What do you want?”
“The envelope sitting on the seat next to you. And any other files or evidence relating to Nexapra’s clinical trials.”
Sula pulled the phone away from her face. How did he know about the envelope? Had he been watching her house? She cursed herself for not stopping at the post office on her way to the center. She had been running late and didn’t want to give the Chapmans an excuse to leave.
She stared at the small silver phone and noticed the name on the caller ID said Dan Parker. Who was he? A tiny version of Rudker’s voice was coming from the phone in her lap. Sula put it back to her ear. “What did you say?”
“The boy has nothing to worry about if you give me the files you took from the Puerto Rico clinic. Is that what’s in the envelope?”
Dear God. Would he actually harm Tate? How could she have endangered him like this? The game was over. The stakes were too high. “You can have it.”
“Great. Meet me at the fire station at the top of McBeth, where it intersects with Fox Hollow.”
“Why so far?”
“It’s a nice drive. Don’t bother calling the police. You’ve already been arrested for stealing from Prolabs, and my high-ranking friend in the department has a reason to believe you’re a little crazy. In addition, your boy might just vanish some day in the future. I’m following the minivan now, just to see where it goes.”
Sula wanted to scream obscenities, but instead she tried reason. “Sooner or later, the truth about Nexapra will come out. You can’t run from it forever.”
“You must let it go. It’s healthier for the mind. Now get moving.”
Sula hung up. Tears of rage swelled in her eyes. The bastard. It was one thing to exploit a group of depressed patients for profit, but to threaten her child…Rudker was evil.
She would rather set fire to her evidence than give it to him, but the outcome would be the same. Was there any way out of this? Could she get the DNA evidence out, leaving only the cassette, and reseal the envelope without him knowing? If she was at home, maybe. But not here, not without scissors or tape. Shit. Another thought hit her. What if the FDA investigated the Puerto Rico trial some day on its own? Would Rudker blame her? And take revenge by hurting Tate?
Sula pulled a U-turn on Chambers and headed up the steep grade. She cursed out loud at the slow-moving van in front of her. She was not in a hurry to confront Rudker-he scared the hell out of her-but she was anxious to get the evidence that could hurt Tate out of her hands.
The road curved at the top then dropped sharply down to Lorane Highway. Sula turned right. On this side of the hill, city gave way to country. Houses were father apart, vastly different in size, style, and age, and set back from the road. Under different circumstances, she would have taken her time to enjoy the scenery. Instead, she pushed the truck and took the curves faster than the posted sign allowed. The road sloped gently downward, then the grange appeared on the left. Sula pressed her brakes and took the turn in a wild swing. For a second, she felt as if the truck were out of her control. It straightened out and she vowed to keep her speed down.
McBeth Road wandered past a shooting range, then headed sharply up into the south hills. Sula spotted a group of cyclists in bright yellow-and-black jerseys pumping their skinny asses up the steep curves. She slowed and gave them a wide berth.
At the top of the hill, she turned on Fox Hollow, then made a quick left into the parking lot of the volunteer-manned fire station. No firefighters lived or worked there, only engines occupied the building. She left the truck running. It seemed important to be able to leave in a hurry.
As Sula sat and waited, a cloud drifted in front of the sun. Her skin cooled and she shuddered. She couldn’t believe it had come to this. Rudker had actually threatened her son. He was clearly more desperate and unstable than she’d imagined. For the first time, she realized Rudker might be planning to harm her. Dear God. Would he?
Sula turned on the heater, then looked behind the seat of her truck for a possible weapon. A tire iron stuck out from under a plastic Fred Meyer bag. She grabbed the iron and laid it on the seat next to her envelope. After another minute, her cell phone rang. Her hand shook as she answered it. “Yes?”
“Put the envelope on the concrete near the doors and drive away.” He sounded so serene, almost cheerful. Sula wondered about his sanity. “Then forget about all this. It’s the safest thing you can do.”