Тесс Герритсен - Whistleblower стр 16.

Give me your keys.

You cant just-

Give me your keys!

She stared at him, shocked by the command. Suddenly she realized that what she saw in his eyes was panic. They were the eyes of a hunted man.

Automatically she handed him her keys.

Wait here, he said. Let me check the apartment first.

She watched in bewilderment as he unlocked her door and cautiously eased his way inside. For a few moments she heard nothing. She pictured him moving through the flat, tried to estimate how many seconds each room would require for inspection. It was a small flat, so why was he taking so long?

Slowly she moved toward the doorway. Just as she reached it, his head popped out. She let out a little squeak of surprise. He barely caught the bag of groceries as it slipped from her grasp.

Its okay, he said. Come on inside.

The instant she stepped over the threshold, he had the door locked and bolted behind her. Then he quickly circled the living room, closing the drapes, locking windows.

Are you going to tell me whats going on? she asked, following him around the room.

Were in trouble.

You mean youre in trouble.

No. I mean we. Both of us. He turned to her, his gaze clear and steady. Do you have the film?

What are you talking about? she asked, utterly confused by the sudden shift of conversation.

A roll of film. Thirty-five millimeter. In a black plastic container. Do you have it?

She didnt answer. But an image from that last night with Sarah had already taken shape in her mind: a roll of film on the kitchen counter. Film shed thought belonged to her friend Hickey. Film shed slipped into her bathrobe pocket and later into her purse. But she wasnt about to reveal any of this, not until she found out why he wanted it. The gaze she returned to him was purposefully blank and unrevealing.

Frustrated, he forced himself to take a deep breath, and started over. That night you found me-on the highway-I had it in my pocket. It wasnt with me when I woke up in the hospital. I might have dropped it in your car.

Why do you want this roll of film?

I need it. As evidence-

For what?

It would take too long to explain.

She shrugged. Ive got nothing better to do at the moment-

Damn it! He stalked over to her. Taking her by the shoulders, he forced her to look at him. Dont you understand? Thats why your friend was killed! The night they broke into your car, they were looking for that film!

She stared at him, a look of sudden comprehension and horror. Sarah

Was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The killer must have thought she was you.

Cathy felt trapped by his unrelenting gaze. And by the inescapable threat of his revelation. Her knees wobbled, gave way. She sank into the nearest chair and sat there in numb silence.

You have to get out of here, he said. Before they find you. Before they figure out youre the Cathy Weaver theyre looking for.

She didnt move. She couldnt move.

Come on, Cathy. There isnt much time!

What was on that roll of film? she asked softly.

I told you. Evidence. Against a company called Viratek.

She frowned. Isnt-isnt that the company you work for?

Used to work for.

What did they do?

Theyre involved in some sort of illegal research project. I cant tell you the particulars.

Why not?

Because I dont know them. Im not the one who gathered the evidence. A colleague-a friend-passed it to me, just before he was killed.

What do you mean by killed?

The police called it an accident. I think otherwise.

Youre saying he was murdered over a research project? She shook her head. Must have been dangerous stuff he was working on.

I know this much. It involves biological weapons. Which makes the research illegal. And incredibly dangerous.

Weapons? For what government?

Ours.

I dont understand. If this is a federal project, that makes it all legal, right?

Not by a long shot. People in high places have been known to break the rules.

How high are we talking about?

I dont know. I cant be sure of anyone. Not the police, not the Justice Department. Not the FBI.

Her eyes narrowed. The words she was hearing sounded like paranoid ravings. But the voice-and the eyes-were perfectly sane. They were sea-green, those eyes. They held an honesty, a steadiness that should have been all the assurance she needed.

It wasnt. Not by a long shot.

Quietly she said, So youre telling me the FBI is after you. Is that correct?

Sudden anger flared in his eyes, then just as quickly, it was gone. Groaning, he sank onto the couch and ran his hands through his hair. I dont blame you for thinking Im nuts. Sometimes I wonder if Im all there. I thought if I could trust anyone, itd be you

Why me?

He looked at her. Because youre the one who saved my life. Youre the one theyll try to kill next.

She froze. No, no, this was insane. Now he was pulling her into his delusion, making her believe in his nightmare world of murder and conspiracy. She wouldnt let him! She stood up and started to walk away, but his voice made her stop again.

Cathy, think about it. Why was your friend Sarah killed? Because they thought she was you. By now theyve figured out they killed the wrong woman. Theyll have to come back and do the job right. Just in case you know something. In case you have evidence-