Page 66 of London
“Let’s get back to the car, turn around, and retrace our steps until we find the road. Come on.”
Gerard took her hand and practically dragged her back the way they’d come. This time it seemed they had to dodge more low branches. Dry leaves and twigs crunched under their footsteps. Gerard’s need to hurry filtered down to her. She trusted his instincts, and right now, her own echoed his concern.
When she’d first seen the contorted trees, she’d thought them fascinating, but now they were grotesque and scary, the tortured souls of living beings. The most striking facet of the forest was its stillness. Not a leaf trembled. Other than the sound of their footsteps, there was nothing—not a bird, not a cricket, not even a mosquito.
Suddenly, a flutter of wings broke the silence, close to their heads. Linda cried out and ducked.
Gerard drew her into his arms. “It’s just a bat,chérie,” he whispered, rubbing her back. “It’s so damn dark in here, he probably doesn’t realize it’s daytime. We’re almost there. Look, you can see the car. It’s just over there.”
Heart still beating a mile a minute with fright, Linda stepped out of his arms and turned toward the car—the light at the end of her tunnel.
Grabbing her hand, Gerard hurried her back to the road. It was exactly as they’d left it, proof that no man nor car had passed on this deserted path. But as he looked inside, he realized he was wrong.
“Son of a bitch!” Gerard yanked the backseat door open and stared inside. His backpack was gone.
Linda gaped at the empty back seat, then looked around. There wasn’t a soul in sight, nor any sign that anyone else had been there.
“Your backpack!” she cried. “It’s gone. Someone stole your backpack.”
He leaned against the car, then slammed his fist against the roof. “Damn it! Jean-Paul was right. So that’s why they broke into my apartment. They were searching for the files, the formula for the serum.”
Linda stared blankly at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Jean-Paul thought of it right away when I mentioned the break in.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I had a folder with printed files in my backpack. That’s why they took it. Look. Your suitcase and backpack are still there,” he said, pointing to her carry-on bag and the pink backpack full of souvenirs she’d placed on the floor behind her seat.
She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the sudden chill that gripped her, still not sure she understood.
“You think someone followed you to Romania to get their hands on the serum’s formula?”
“Iknowit. Remember that blue Jeep on the same road with us from Cluj? It had rental plates, too.”
“I saw it,” she admitted. “But I didn’t think anything of it. This all seems so… far-fetched.”
“Can you think of another reason why I’ve been robbed twice in the span of a week?”
She huffed out a breath, ruffling her lips in the process. “No.” Stunned, she dropped onto the grass at the edge of the path, her legs unable to support her. “When did you first suspect this?”
“It crossed my mind when Patterson thought things didn’t add up, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to sound paranoid. That’s why I didn’t even mention it to you. Jean-Paul made the connection right away. I’m sure that’s what they were after.”
Linda bit her lip, her eyes opening wide. “My God! That’s why they took your tablet and old phone. There could’ve been information on them. That’s how they knew we were coming to Romania. They hacked your email and saw the plane ticket receipts. That’s why they ransacked the apartment. They were searching for the files and for your laptop.”
“It looks that way. They would’ve seen the emails I exchanged with Jean-Paul. That way they would’ve known I was acquiring a second formula.”
“So they waited until we left Jean-Paul’s house and stole two formulae instead of one. They probably followed us from the house, and were waiting for us to stop somewhere to eat so they could act.” Linda was on a roll. With every deduction she made, she got closer to the truth and the awful conclusion. “Whoever these people are, they have your files now. They have both formulae and can pass them off as their own.”
To her surprise, Gerard chuckled. “Not quite.”
He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a silver-toned memory stick.
“This is where the formulae are. The folder in my backpack contained pages I printed from an article in a medical journal—not one even related to my research. It was Jean-Paul’s idea. I thought he was being paranoid, but he was right. I’m the one who’s been careless.”
Linda stared at the little gadget. Then she looked up at him. “What about your laptop and the information on it?”
“The machine’s insured, and as far as information goes, there isn’t any. My files are all automatically uploaded to the server at HOPE. Their IT security is the best, far too good for your casual hacker to break.”
“What if this robber is someone associated with HOPE?”
“That wouldn’t make sense. If they’d wanted my files, they could get them there. There would be no need to break into my home or follow me to Romania.”
