Seeking Asylum Read online

  Eric caught her hand. “Please don’t. I don’t have the strength to stop you.”

  “I don’t want you to stop me. I want you to take me away from this insane place, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Make me believe that this isn’t reality.” Rachel lifted her head and sought his lips.

  “This can’t happen,” he said against her neck. “You don’t want me. You just want comfort.”

  “I do want you. Please. I swear. I won’t ask you for more than this.”

  He lifted his head, and Rachel saw the anguish in his eyes. He touched her lips with his thumb. “I understand. You’re asking for an escape from the madness.” He shook his head. “I can’t promise you that.”

  His tone struck fear in her heart. She ignored the question that rose in the back of her mind. Instead, she pulled his head down so her mouth brushed his. “Don’t promise me anything. Just love me.”

  Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

  Summer’s winding down, but Harlequin Intrigue is as hot as ever with six spine-tingling reads for you this month!

  * Our new BIG SKY BOUNTY HUNTERS promotion debuts with Amanda Stevens’s Going to Extremes. In the coming months, look for more titles from Jessica Andersen, Cassie Miles and Julie Miller.

  * We have some great miniseries for you. Rita Herron is back with Mysterious Circumstances, the latest in her NIGHTHAWK ISLAND series. Mallory Kane’s Seeking Asylum is the third book in her ULTIMATE AGENTS series. And Sylvie Kurtz has another tale in THE SEEKERS series—Eye of a Hunter.

  * No month would be complete without a chilling gothic romance. This month’s ECLIPSE title is Debra Webb’s Urban Sensation.

  * Jan Hambright, a fabulous new author, makes her debut with Relentless. Sparks fly when a feisty repo agent repossesses a BMW with an ex-homicide detective in the trunk!

  Don’t miss a single book this month and every month!

  Sincerely,

  Denise O’Sullivan

  Senior Editor

  Harlequin Intrigue

  SEEKING ASYLUM

  MALLORY KANE

  For the members of Magnolia State Romance Writers,

  who have supported me without fail, and for Lorraine.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Mallory Kane credits her love of books to her mother, a librarian, who taught her that books are a precious resource and should be treated with loving respect. Her grandfather and her father were both steeped in the Southern tradition of oral history, and could hold an audience spellbound with their storytelling skills. Mallory aspires to be as good a storyteller as her father.

  She loves romantic suspense with dangerous heroes and dauntless heroines, and often uses her medical background to add an extra dose of intrigue to her books. Another fascination that she enjoys exploring in her reading and writing is the infinite capacity of the brain to adapt and develop higher skills.

  Mallory lives in Mississippi with her computer-genius husband, their two fascinating cats, and, at current count, seven computers.

  Books by Mallory Kane

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  620—THE LAWMAN WHO LOVED HER

  698—HEIR TO SECRET MEMORIES

  738—BODYGUARD/HUSBAND*

  789—BULLETPROOF BILLIONAIRE

  809—A PROTECTED WITNESS*

  863—SEEKING ASYLUM*

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Rachel Harper—The young psychiatrist is the newest staff member at The Meadows. The child of a bipolar mother, Rachel grew up determined to defeat mental illness. Now, in order to survive, she must trust her life to a man who may be insane.

  Eric Baldwyn—Profiler for the Division of Unsolved Mysteries, Eric’s empathic abilities and odd dreams of the twin brother he believes is dead, have made him a loner. But the only way he can save Rachel’s life is to expose his innermost self, even if it means losing any chance of her love.

  Caleb Baldwyn—Eric’s identical twin brother is schizophrenic, and has spent the past twenty years in a mental institution. Caleb claims Dr. Metzger’s heinous experiments and mysterious injections are killing patients. Is Caleb telling the truth, or are his ravings the delusions of his insanity?

  Gerhardt Metzger—Obsessed with finding a cure for schizophrenia, Dr. Gerhardt Metzger has used Caleb Baldwyn for his increasingly invasive and inhumane experiments for years. Will the controversial and world-renowned neurologist resort to murder to keep his best patient?

  Rajid Patel—The Chief Medical Director for The Meadows private mental facility is desperate to hold on to his most valued staff member, Dr. Metzger. Is Dr. Patel involved with Metzger’s cruel experiments, or is he just a pawn in the doctor’s wicked game?

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter One

  “Let go of me, Caleb. You know the rules.” Dr. Rachel Harper tried to pry his fingers off her arm. She’d been on her way home when the night nurse in the acute neurological wing had buzzed her to tell her that Caleb Baldwyn was in the sunroom. He’d woken up while sleepwalking.

  “You’re in on it, aren’t you?” His voice was harsh and shrill. His ragged fingernails scraped her skin as he tightened his grip. Fear and hostility emanated from him like body heat. “Frankenmetzger sent you to kill me.”

  Rachel studied the troubled young man. She knew a little about his case from his meager chart. Childhood-onset schizophrenia was a heartbreaking disease. He’d apparently been in mental institutions for most of his thirty-one years, since he was eleven years old. In the last few years he’d become less and less able to function independently, even on the newest drugs. His constant relapses didn’t make sense. Given his young age and excellent physical condition, he should have been a perfect candidate for the new antipsychotic medications.

  Rachel heard the sunroom door open.

  “Dr. Harper, is everything all right?” It was the night nurse.

  “I’m fine, Gracie. Caleb’s going back to bed now.”

  “No!” he screamed. “Frankenmetzger’s going to kill me. I have to get away.”

  Gracie stepped into the room and slipped a syringe from her pocket. Behind her, the Meadows’s security guard appeared in the doorway.

  Rachel sent Gracie a frustrated glare. She’d specifically told her not to call Security.

  “Caleb,” Rachel said calmly. “Walk with me back to your room.”

  “Room? You mean, cage?” Caleb snarled, pushing her away. “Why can’t you see what’s going on around here?” He pinned her with his bleak gaze. “Frankenmetzger’s switching medications. What’s in the chart is not what we’re being given.” He brushed at his neck, frowning. “He’s a monster.”

  Darrell Freeman, the security guard, advanced. “All right, Caleb,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Gracie started toward Caleb with the syringe.

  Caleb’s eyes darted wildly as he took a step backward.

  “Darrell, don’t crowd him,” Rachel muttered, keeping her eyes on Caleb. She didn’t want him to panic.

  Darrell grabbed Caleb, flipped him around and wrapped his forearm across his throat.

  “Darrell!” Damn it. Why were they ignoring her?

  Caleb used the leverage of Darrell’s grip to rock backward and kick at Grace. Her syringe went flying, Darrell overbalanced, and he and Caleb tumbled to the floor, rolling over and over as they struggled. Darrell
pinned Caleb with one arm and Rachel saw the flash of gunmetal.

  “Darrell, no!”

  A shot rang out and the two men froze in place. Then, slowly, they crumpled like a pair of rag dolls and the gun skittered across the tile floor.

  A dark red stain began to spread across Darrell Freeman’s shirt.

  Gracie screamed.

  Caleb staggered to his feet and his long fingers stretched toward the gun.

  Rachel dove for the weapon, but Caleb was quicker. He grabbed it, then lunged for her, hauling her up in a chokehold. Tremors racked his lean frame and his pounding heart thudded against her back.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he? I killed him,” he sobbed as he pressed the barrel of the gun under her chin. “It was him or me. Him or me. You know that, don’t you, Pretty Doctor?”

  His arm was so tight around her throat she could barely breathe. Her pulse drummed in her ears as fear shuddered through her. She pulled at his arm, fighting for breath. “Caleb, don’t make it worse.”

  A sharp laugh exploded from his mouth. “It can’t be worse.” He jerked her more tightly against him, cutting off her air for an instant. “I need to go home. I need Eric. He’ll know where to find me if I go home.”

  Gracie edged toward the door. Caleb whirled, pointing the gun at her. “No! Don’t move!”

  Gracie recoiled and wrapped her arms around her head. “Don’t shoot me, please,” she begged. “I have children.”

  Caleb’s body grew rigid. “So did Darrell!” he sobbed. The tremors racking his body increased. “Oh, God. I killed him.”

  A faint movement from the downed security guard caught Rachel’s eye. Her pulse leaped.

  “Let me check him. I don’t think he’s dead.” Rachel strained against Caleb’s forearm. Her throat burned and she coughed.

  Caleb shook his head. “No. No. Too late. It’s too late now!”

  TOO LATE NOW!

  Eric Baldwyn shot straight up in bed, gasping for breath. His heart galloped as he kicked at the tangled bedclothes and raked his startled gaze over his surroundings. Gradually the images came into focus.

  He was in his apartment in Washington, D.C. Not holding a beautiful, frightened doctor as a human shield. Not gripping a loaded gun while a man lay in a pool of blood at his feet.

  Eric shuddered and wiped both hands over his face. That’d teach him to bring his work home. He’d spent all evening studying grisly forensic photos from his latest case.

  He pulled on jeans and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Propping his arm on top of the refrigerator door, he gulped the water, shivering as a few drops dribbled onto his bare chest. Rubbing the cool liquid into his skin, he shouldered the door closed and flopped down onto the couch, still haunted by the frightened blue eyes and the trembling lips of the beautiful doctor from his dream.

  He clicked on the TV, hoping for some distraction. He closed his eyes, barely listening to the news anchor’s drone.

  The elements of the dream clung to him like mist. He couldn’t shake them.

  Why a shooting? Why a beautiful hostage? And most importantly, why had he dreamed he was inside the killer’s head? He laughed grimly.

  “Rookie question, Baldwyn,” he muttered. His brain had turned a metaphor into an image. After all, as the Division’s criminal profiler, it was his job to get inside people’s heads.

  He flung his forearm across his eyes.

  “—breaking story from the Meadows Psychiatric Facility in Longview, Connecticut. Less than two hours ago, a security guard was shot with his own gun by a patient, Caleb Baldwyn—”

  The words hit Eric with the impact of a bullet. Caleb Baldwyn. He sat up and stared at the screen. That was his brother’s name.

  “Baldwyn escaped with a hostage, Dr. Rachel Harper, a psychiatrist at the exclusive, private, resort-like facility that caters to the rich and famous—”

  On the screen a long shot of sprawling buildings and manicured lawns switched to a grainy photograph. Eric bolted upright. His pulse pounded in his ears.

  It was her. The woman from his dream. Black hair, wide, crystal-blue eyes, pretty heart-shaped face. Surprise tingled through him. He knew her—knew the silken swish of her hair against his cheek, knew the feel of her firm, slender body pressed against him, knew the sweet melodic sound of her voice. But how? He’d never met Rachel Harper—had never been to the Meadows.

  He pressed his palms to his temples. His dreams had always been vivid, some more nightmarish than others. But he’d never dreamed a real incident, at least not since his twin brother had died twenty years before.

  “No!” he cried in denial, even as certainty settled over him like a hot woolen blanket. He gawked at the TV screen in disbelief. What was happening to him?

  His brother’s name, the dream. There could be only one explanation, yet every molecule in his body still tried to deny it.

  Grief and horror beat a rapid rhythm in his throat. His breathing became erratic and his palms grew clammy as denial slowly morphed into dread certainty.

  His grandmother had lied to him all his life. Caleb was alive. It explained so much—the dreams, the odd, frightening thoughts, the echo of Caleb’s voice in his head.

  He’d spent the past twenty years terrified of succumbing to the same schizophrenia that had afflicted his only sibling. But now—

  “—more information as it becomes available. Back to you—”

  Eric flipped channels, but no one else was covering the story.

  He shot up off the couch and paced, spiking his fingers through his hair in agitation. The shooting and the beautiful hostage were real. He’d been inside his brother’s head. He’d seen what Caleb saw. The strange link they had shared as kids was still there.

  His eyes stung. How had he not known? The guilt he’d carried like a cross all these years weighed even heavier. Had Caleb been alone all this time—locked in that exclusive snake pit? Eric rubbed his pounding temples. No wonder he’d never been able to banish his brother’s voice from his mind.

  Caleb was alive. He needed him.

  BY THREE o’clock the next afternoon Eric was in an FBI van with Mitch Decker, the Special Agent in Charge of the Division of Unsolved Mysteries. Eric had explained to Mitch about the kidnapping and asked for Decker’s help. He had to go to his brother.

  Decker had agreed that Eric was the obvious choice to negotiate with Caleb about releasing the psychiatrist, but true to his nature, he refused to consider Eric going alone. He’d insisted on accompanying him, to smooth the way with the local authorities and to lend support to Eric.

  Decker pocketed his cell phone. “They’re at your grandmother’s house, just like you said. Dr. Harper’s car is parked in the driveway,” he told Eric. “The sheriff has set up roadblocks and they’re waiting for us. Your instinct was right on.”

  Eric took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”

  Decker shot him a questioning glance. “What’s going on, Eric? What are you not telling me?”

  Eric swallowed. He should have known better than to give Decker only part of the story. “You know what people say about twins—how some twins seem to have a special link? Well, last night I dreamed about the shooting and the kidnapping.” He hesitated.

  “What do you mean, you dreamed about it?” Decker’s voice was cautious.

  “I can’t explain it, sir. I don’t understand it myself.” Eric laid out the information the way he knew Decker liked it, simply and chronologically. He talked about growing up with his schizophrenic brother under the stern hand of their society-conscious grandmother. The monster-laden nightmares, the days full of odd thoughts his young brain had had no name for. The fact that even after his brother’s death, the sensations had never completely vanished.

  “I was afraid I was going insane.” He laughed shortly. “You probably think I am.”

  Decker spread his hands above the steering wheel. “I have no idea how you get inside people’s heads, how you can solve a case just by studying the v
ictim. But I believe in you. So my position is that you know what you’re talking about.”

  “Here we are.” Eric’s heart pounded as he saw the familiar road to his grandmother’s house. The area was milling with armed officers and dotted with Fairfield County police cars and an ambulance. “We’re about three hundred yards from the house.”

  “George Ford, the county sheriff, has agreed to let us go in first.”

  Eric nodded. He couldn’t see the house—it was around a long curve—but he felt its pull. He’d grown up there. He loved it—and hated it. Apprehension churned in his gut.

  Together they walked down the winding, tree-lined road. When the huge Colonial mansion came into view, Eric halted. Memories flowed over him like a waterfall, eroding his defenses.

  Decker withdrew his service weapon. Eric nodded, but didn’t pull his own gun. He hoped he wouldn’t need it.

  He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, then walked toward the temple-like entrance of the house where his brother had almost killed him.

  RACHEL HARPER opened her eyes and immediately panicked. She was in the dark!

  Mama, don’t! Don’t turn out all the lights. I’ll be quiet, I promise.

  Her heart pounded so fast and hard, her chest hurt. She cowered on the floor. The hungry blackness was about to devour her, just like when she was a child. She fought to breathe.

  A door opened, letting in blessed light. Rachel jerked and pain shot through her wrists and ankles.

  It was Caleb! He looked awful. His eyes were wilder than ever, his clothes disheveled. Redness rimmed his eyelids and his skin under his day’s growth of beard looked sickly pale.

  Memories came rushing back—Caleb shooting the guard, forcing her at gunpoint to drive her own car as he shouted directions. Then when they’d arrived at the deserted house, he’d dragged her up two sets of stairs, bound her with duct tape and locked her in the dark.