“Ava did.”
Working off her notes, Elizabeth wrote down all the facts they had about Jack’s murder and the events that had followed. “Is that everything? Am I missing something?”
“He rang me.”
“Oh, right! He called on his original phone. When was that?”
Quinn drew his mobile from his pocket, looked at the date on Jack’s message. “He rang on October twenty-eighth. It was almost nineteen-hundred hours in Afghanistan. That’s fourteen-thirty Glasgow time.”
Elizabeth turned back to the board, marker in hand, and wrote that down. “Let’s start there—with his phones. We’ve got the SIM and IMEI for the new one. I’m sure the police do, too, but let’s see what we find.”
She sat on the sofa, her laptop on the coffee table in front of her, and logged in to her computer at Cobra via VPN—their virtual personal network.
“Will the system detect you doin’ this?”
“I log in from overseas all the time and from home. There shouldn’t be any reason for the system to flag me.” She hit return. “There. I’m in.”
Quinn read the SIM and IMEI numbers from the photo she’d taken yesterday while Elizabeth entered them into the tracking framework. He had no idea how it worked. He only knew that the framework had been developed by the NSA—National Security Agency—and leased to Cobra. “Now what happens?”
“I’ll tell you what’s not going to happen. If we get a fix on this phone, you are not going to go charging out there. You’re staying right here. I’ll send an anonymous email to Wilson so the police can handle it. Are we agreed?”
Quinn wanted to object but knew she was right. “Aye, agreed.”
“It shouldn’t take long.” She explained how the framework was actually a global network of cellular service providers that had agreed to share data with the NSA. “The program sifts through literally billions of numbers looking for a match and then connects with the GPS in that device or nearby cell towers to give us a location.”
“Is this what the police are usin’?”
“No, it’s far ahead of that. The police go directly to the service provider, and the service provider…” Her words trailed off. “It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?”
“His new cell phone. It’s not showing up anywhere. The search came up empty.” She doubled-checked the SIM and IMEI numbers and ran the search again, ending up with the same results. “Nada.”
“I dinnae understand. It must be somewhere.”
Elizabeth looked up at him, “Either the phone is being kept in a place that blocks EM energy—”
“Aye, like a Faraday cage?”
She nodded. “—or someone has destroyed it.”
* * *
“Now we know why the police haven’t said anything about the stolen phones.” Elizabeth logged out of the VPN and closed her laptop. “They haven’t found them.”
“Ava disnae know that.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t tell her.” Elizabeth stood, stretched. “You don’t want to add to her worries, and if she mentions it to Wilson…”
“Aye. I’ve no desire to stand there while that numpty shouts in my face.” Quinn stood, too. “Are you hungry? I hope the hotel serves Scotch pie.”
She couldn’t even think about food. “I’ll never be hungry again after that breakfast. You go ahead and eat without me. I should probably go to the gym. Running helps me think.”
“I’ll get a bite and meet you there.”
While Quinn went downstairs to the restaurant, she put on a pair of leggings, a jog bra, and a T-shirt, turned on her security camera, and took the elevator to the third floor in search of the gym. It was the middle of a workday, so the room was almost empty. She walked over to a treadmill, keyed in her usual workout, and started her three-mile run.
Televisions hung at strategic points throughout the room, offering distraction. She focused on the news channel, letting her mind relax.
Preparations for Remembrance Day across the UK.
Lest we forget.
Five members of a dog-fighting ring in Aberdeenshire sentenced to twenty months in prison each.
Good riddance.
Toxicology tests on the body of a teenage girl found in a ditch three days ago show that the cause of death was a drug overdose.
Poor thing. Awful.
Elizabeth waited to see whether they’d give an update on Jack’s murder, but they moved to sports, which held no interest for her at all. She turned her mind to the whiteboard, let random thoughts trickle through her head.
The phone had been a dead end, but why would someone steal a phone and then destroy it? Most people who stole cell phones tried to sell them.
Ava had mentioned two men. There was the man who had tried to attack MSP Whitehall, threatening to kill him and Jack and shouting incoherently about abortion. What had happened with him? Then there was Leo Grant, Jack’s former gang buddy, who had gotten angry when Jack had refused to work for him. Ava said Jack had had doubts about Leo’s business dealings. The man must make good money to be able to afford private security and double Jack’s pay.
There was also Jack’s past involvement with gangs.
The toxicology results from Jack’s post-mortem weren’t back yet, so she…
Elizabeth’s gaze snapped back to the television, and she tried to remember the report about the teenage overdose victim verbatim.
Katie Cameron, the fourteen-year-old teenager whose body was found three days ago in a ditch outside Edinburgh, died of a drug overdose it has been revealed. Tests showed alcohol, cocaine, and heroin in her body at the time of her death.
They’d found the girl three days ago and already had her results. They’d had Jack’s body for twice that long and had told Ava the results weren’t back yet.
They found something.
That’s why they were focused on drugs.
Elizabeth’s heart sank. If she was right, both Quinn and Ava would take the news hard. Maybe she could make it easier for Quinn at least if she shared her suspicions. Then again, maybe she was wrong. Maybe Scotland placed a priority on toxicology results for murdered minors. In most places in the US, murders and rapes had higher priority when it came to toxicology and DNA testing.
Quinn walked in wearing a T-shirt and gym pants that rode low on his hips. He flashed her a smile and walked over to the free weights, setting up the chest press.
Damn.
Elizabeth had seen him work out before—all that muscle in action. Cobra had a gym in the basement that most of the employees used to stay fit. The difference between Cobra’s gym and this place was that they were on vacation now—and they were alone.
It would be so easy to give in and let her hormones win. She’d danced with Quinn and knew he was good with his body. He’d probably be as lethal in bed as he was out of it. But she’d hooked up with a coworker once before and had paid a terrible price for it. She’d sworn to herself never to make that mistake again.
Still, she was on vacation. It didn’t hurt to ogle him—just a little.
Bench press. Bicep curls. Triceps. Incline press.
He got to his feet, raised the hem of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, exposing that delicious six-pack.
Elizabeth didn’t realize she’d stopped running until the machine tossed her onto the floor. She toppled with a shriek, landing flat on her butt.
“Are you hurt?” Quinn jogged over, held out a big hand to help her up.
Heat rushed into her cheeks. “I’m fine.”
She took his hand, stood, coming face to face with him—or face to sternum. He smelled like salt and sweat and soap, the warm scents filling her head, leaving her intoxicated.
Pheromone alert.
“Did you forget you were runnin’?” The gleam in his blue eyes told her he found all of this funny.
She couldn’t tell him the truth, so she lied. “I’m not sure what I did.”
She was such an idiot.
> He leaned down, bringing his gaze level with hers. “Next time you’re wantin’ to watch me at the weights, turn off the machine first, and come pull up a chair.”
* * *
Quinn saw Elizabeth’s eyes go wide, her cheeks flaming scarlet.
“You!” She glared at him, gave him a wee shove.
“Me?” He fought not to laugh. Och, she was adorable when she was angry. “It was you gawpin’ at me and you who fell. What did I do?”
“Oh, like you’ve never stared at my ass before.” Furious now, she gave herself a slap on the bum and then cupped her breasts through her T-shirt. “Or ogled my tits.”
The sight of her cupping her own breasts sent blood rushing to his groin and brought his gaze to the exact place it should not be.
Sweet blazin’ hell!
“Aye, I’ll no’ deny it. We’re both adults. What’s the harm in lookin’?”
His words seemed to make her angrier. She opened her mouth as if to blister his ears—then leapt into his arms and kissed him.
Quinn caught her, drew her hard against him, his shock washed away by a rush of lust. He forgot about Jack’s murder. He forgot they were in the hotel gym. He forgot that they shouldn’t be doing this, because, sweet Jesus, they ought to have done it years ago. He forgot everything but Lilibet—her taste, the soft feel of her body against his, the sweet scent of her skin.
Och, the woman could kiss. She took everything he could give her and demanded more, her tongue teasing his, her teeth nipping his lips—
“Is this man harassin’ you, miss?”
Elizabeth went stiff in Quinn’s arms, the two of them opening their eyes to find a young security guard walking toward them.
Quinn set Elizabeth on her feet, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “We’re just havin’ a wee snog, aye?”
“Miss?” The man didn’t seem to believe Quinn, but waited for Elizabeth to answer. “It didnae look like snoggin’.”
It took Quinn a moment to understand the accusation—a measure of how distracted he was just now. The guard must have seen Elizabeth shove him on the surveillance feed and had gotten the wrong idea.
Fuck.
Elizabeth gave the man that beautiful smile of hers. “I’m fine. Thank you. I fell off the machine. He helped me up and teased me about it, so I gave him a shove and, um, kissed him. I guess we forgot where we were. I’m so sorry we worried you, but I do appreciate your concern for my safety.”
“If you’re certain, miss…”
“Yes, thank you.”
Quinn couldn’t fault the guard for watching out for women, but the thought that anyone could believe him capable of abusing Elizabeth set his temper on edge. He wasn’t that sort of man. No matter what anyone said, he was nothing like his father. Some part of him wanted an apology, but that would make him a right prick.
The guard was just doin’ his job, aye?
Elizabeth turned to Quinn. “I’m done with my run. I’ll see you upstairs.”
“Aye, I’m comin’, too.”
The security guard walked out of the gym with them. “Enjoy your stay wi’ us.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth made small talk with Quinn until the lift doors closed behind them, giving them privacy. Her smile vanished, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m sorry. That was my fault. I…”
“Dinnae apologize unless you truly regret it. You kissed me, and, from what I could tell, you liked it as much as I did.”
Her head snapped up, her gaze locking with his. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
He couldn’t resist. “So, next time you come at me, I should fend you off, aye?”
She rolled her eyes. “There can’t be a next time.”
The lift doors opened onto their floor.
Elizabeth walked quickly down the hallway toward her room, Quinn beside her. “I don’t want to risk our friendship, and I don’t want to lose my job.”
“Why did you do it?”
She swiped her keycard, but it didn’t work.
Lilibet was flustered, so she was.
Quinn took the card, turned it around, and swiped it for her. “Why, Lilibet?”
She opened the door. “Can we please not talk about this in the hallway?”
Both of their cell phones buzzed, proof that their surveillance cameras worked.
Quinn walked over to the device and turned it off. “I’m listenin’.”
She sank onto the sofa, ran her fingers through her hair. “I was embarrassed, and you were so … smug.”
“And your solution was to throw yourself into my arms and kiss me? I should be smug more often.”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “What do you want me to say?”
“Admit that you’re attracted to me, just as I’m attracted to you.”
She shot to her feet. “Okay, fine! I’m attracted to you. I think you’re hot. I’d love to rip your clothes off and fuck your brains out. Everything about you turns me on—all those muscles, that sexy accent, your red hair. Are you satisfied now?”
“Aye.” Quinn had never seen Elizabeth so rattled before—and he liked it. He liked what she’d just admitted, too. He plopped onto the sofa, folded his arms behind his head, a grin on his face. “Well, now that’s out in the open.”
She wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck his brains out, did she? She was pure gaggin’ for it, and so was he.
“It doesn’t change anything, Quinn. I know what happens when you get involved with a coworker. I won’t go through that again.”
7
Elizabeth didn’t know what was worse—her mortification over what she’d admitted just now or the unsatisfied ache inside her. She had kissed Quinn, and he was right. She had liked it.
The taste of him. The press of his lips on hers. His hard body. The feel of his arms around her. She couldn’t remember a kiss that had affected her so intensely, setting her body on fire, making her want to get him naked right then and there.
It can’t happen again.
She tried to move on, ignoring both her embarrassment—and the fact that she was now distractingly horny. “Where did we leave off?”
Quinn stood, walked over to her, concern on his face. “Did somethin’ happen at the Agency?”
Shit.
She’d said too much, and now he was curious. She sat again, resigned to telling him. “In my second year with the Agency, I started dating a fellow analyst, a jerk named Jason. I knew pretty quickly that it wouldn’t work out and ended it. He was unhappy with that and came close to getting me fired.”
She’d given him a simple answer and hoped that was enough.
Quinn sat in the armchair across from her, his concern now an angry frown. “What did he do, this fuckin’ gobshite?”
She knew that look. She had aroused Quinn’s protective side, the one that had brought him to the brink of violence more than once at the Pony Express when a man had been rude to her or grabbed her butt. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“It matters to me.”
Elizabeth could see in Quinn’s eyes that he meant what he said. Maybe it was best if he knew. Then maybe he’d understand. “I dated Jason for less than a month. We had sex once. I knew then that it wouldn’t work out.”
Quinn arched an auburn brow. “That bad?”
She nodded. “We weren’t really a couple, but I ended it. Jason got angry and threatened to destroy my reputation. He started spreading rumors that I was trying to sleep my way to the top. Men I didn’t know started hitting on me in the elevator and outside the bathrooms. One touched my butt. Another grabbed my crotch. I got encrypted emails with dick pics, photoshopped images of me having sex with terrorists and politicians, and vulgar messages. ‘Lizzy ain’t a lezzy. She loves to suck dick.’ I was afraid to walk to my car alone at night.”
“Fuckin’ bawbags, the lot of them. Did you report them?”
“Of course! I saved the emails and the photos and all the computer data and gave my supervisor his name a
nd the names of the men who’d assaulted me. I was assured that the Agency takes sexual harassment seriously, but nothing was done. I felt betrayed.”
“You were betrayed.”
“When the Agency refused to act, I went on the offensive. I stood up in a meeting where the rat bastard was present, showed the photos, read some of the emails—and almost got fired. They accused me of breaking rules against fraternizing and behaving unprofessionally.”
“You? He was the bastard they needed to terminate. Is he still there?”
“Oh, yes.” Elizabeth told Quinn how she’d refused to leave and had focused instead on becoming impervious to the insults. “I put all of my energy into being the best analyst I could be and supporting the other women, especially the younger ones. They watched out for me, and I watched out for them.”
“I’m sorry, Lilibet. That wisnae right or just.”
“Thanks.” She couldn’t help but smile at the sympathy in Quinn’s eyes. He might be hell with a rifle in his hands, but he was such a softie when it came to women. “In the end, I was promoted, and he was transferred to another division. When I resigned to work for Cobra, the same people who’d refused to help me asked me to stay. That’s some sort of justice, I suppose.”
“No’ the kind I’d like to give him.”
“Your kind of justice might land you in prison. But now you know why I will never date a coworker again.”
A look of hurt came over his face. “You think I’d treat you like that?”
“God, no, not at all!” She hadn’t meant to suggest that. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Quinn. It’s the contract we both signed, the rules we both agreed to follow. There aren’t a lot of organizations in the world where you and I can do the kind of work we do. Anyway, that’s the past, and you and I need to focus on the present.”
Quinn didn’t look pleased with this. “Aye, all right.”
Then she remembered. “Oh, yes! We should check with Ava about the toxicology tests. There was a report about a girl whose body was pulled from a ditch a couple of days ago. Police already have her toxicology results. It made me wonder why Ava hasn’t gotten Jack’s. Maybe they’re using a different lab or perhaps the teen’s tests had priority because she was a minor. Or maybe they’ve gotten the report and just haven’t told us.”
Hard Justice: A Cobra Elite Novel Page 7
