Fox in plain Sight

by Tina Folsom

  “Double shot, no-whip mocha for Nick.”

  Upon hearing his drink called out, Nick pivoted and snatched his overpriced coffee from the bar.

  “Ouch!” he hissed and set it back down.

  “Sleeves.” The employee behind the counter pointed to a basket with cardboard cup protectors, before calling out the next drink. “Triple shot, grande latte for Michelle.”

  “Thanks.” He slipped a sleeve around the hot paper cup, took his drink, turned on his heel—and instantly froze.

  Only his extremely fast reaction saved him from colliding with the young woman who’d approached the counter for her latte. Instead, Nick jerked backward, hitting the counter with his back. The impact made him involuntarily tighten his grip on his coffee cup. The plastic lid popped off and the hot mocha splashed over the rim, spilling over the front of his T-shirt.

  “Shit!” he cursed as the hot liquid touched his skin.

  Instinctively jerking back from the burning coffee, his elbow hit something behind him. Nick shot a look over his shoulder just as the latte the barista had called out for the next customer spilled onto the counter.

  “Well, great!” the woman he’d nearly crashed into grumbled beneath her breath. “I really needed that latte.”

  Yeah, and he needed not to be making a spectacle of himself.

  Way to stay under the radar, Nick.

  Setting his half-spilled drink onto the counter, he flashed the barista who was already cleaning up the mess a quick smile. “So sorry, I’ll pay for it, of course.”

  “No worries, I’ll make another one.” She looked past him. “Michelle, just a minute, okay?”

  “Thanks,” the female customer—Michelle presumably—answered.

  Nick nodded. “Much appreciate it. But I’ll pay for it.”

  He turned around to face the woman the barista had addressed and froze once more, when he caught something flashing silver. Instinctively, he focused on the pendant around her neck. A spotlight from the ceiling reflected off the shiny surface, giving it emphasis when at any other time Nick wouldn’t have given the item a second glance. It was probably not even made of silver, maybe just of steel or aluminum. But its shape was undeniable: it was a tiny Guy Fawkes mask, the same kind the hacker cooperative, Anonymous, used as their symbol.

  This couldn’t be a coincidence. What were the odds of somebody wearing this type of keepsake in the same coffee shop he’d traced the hacker to? Nick was no betting man, but he would put his money on this woman.

  Slowly, he lifted his eyes and looked at her for the first time.

  His breath hitched, air fleeing his lungs. Red lips was the first thing he saw. Full and plump, slightly parted, showing perfectly straight, white teeth. Her skin was olive as if she came from the Mediterranean. There was a golden sheen of perspiration on her face. Not surprising, since it was muggy as hell in the city, and even in the air-conditioned interior of the coffee shop, it was warm.

  Blue eyes framed by dark lashes looked at him, assessing, questioning, curious. But he didn’t let that deter him from scrutinizing her, because it wasn’t the ex-CIA agent in him inspecting her, it was the man in him, the one whose blood was rushing to his groin with a speed he couldn’t quite comprehend. All he knew was that this woman intrigued him on so many levels, the least of which was a professional one.

  In dark blond waves, her hair fell to her shoulders, drawing attention to her spaghetti-strap top with the built-in bra that accentuated her firm breasts— which were the perfect size for her lean five-foot-seven frame. Her cleavage was of the same olive skin as her face, a skin that tanned easily. And perhaps without tan lines. Not that his mind should go in that direction. After all, he wasn’t here to pick her up. Not for any romantic reasons anyway. Though, of course, to further his mission, he needed to get close to her. Just how close he didn’t know yet.

  For an instant, he wished that this woman wasn’t the hacker he was after, but simply a regular customer of the quaint coffee shop. But the pendant and the computer bag that was slung bike-messenger-bag-like across her torso suggested otherwise.

  “Uh… sorry… uh…” he stammered, both to convey the hapless man, but also because for a second he did feel just a little bit tongue-tied at so much physical perfection. “Uh, Michelle, is it?”

  She tilted her head to the side, suspicious now. “How—?”

  He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The barista called out your latte; the one I spilled. Sorry about that again.”

  Michelle seemed to relax. “No worries.” She motioned to his torso. “At least you spilled your drink on yourself and not on me.”

  Nick flashed a warm grin, knowing that it was one of his special assets, one that made women feel comfortable with him. “Yeah, bit clumsy of me, wasn’t it?” He reached for a napkin from the counter and patted the stain on his shirt, but there was no way of removing it. All he could do was pat it as dry as possible. “Well, guess that one’s ruined.”

  Michelle chuckled. “Brown looks good on you.”

  Nick winked and used her light-hearted response to draw her in further. “Yeah, sure, have your fun. Laugh at the guy who’s just made a fool of himself in front of a pretty woman.”

  The resulting blush on her cheeks looked good on her and confirmed that his charm was working. This would be the angle he could use to get to her and find out what she knew. With a bit of luck, he’d know in a few days—maximum a week—whether she could help him get what he needed.

  4

  He’d called her pretty, and that made her smile. After the day Michelle had had so far, the stranger’s compliment felt like soothing lotion on a sunburn. Her meeting with her blackmailer—yes, blackmailer, because that’s what he really was, no matter what government agency he was working for—had left her rattled. The pressure was on. Either she produced, or she would land in jail, and that was a place she didn’t want to go to.

  She’d much rather be in the company of a cute stranger, even if said stranger was a bit clumsy. At least the guy was no threat to her. The only danger she faced from the brown-haired hunk who was smiling at her, was being doused with coffee. And that was something she could easily survive.

  Michelle watched as he dumped the soiled paper napkins in the trash bin and grabbed a new lid for his half-spilled coffee, securing it on the cup.

  “I don’t mean to be pushy or anything,” he suddenly said, “but can I buy you a biscotti or a muffin to go with your latte?”

  Michelle shook her head. “That’s really not necessary. Besides, it’s not like I need the extra calories.” Keeping a trim figure was hard enough since she spent most of her days and nights in front of her computer. She needed no sugar to jeopardize her health and weight.

  A charming smirk, accompanied by a long look up and down her person, was his answer. “I’m sure you’ll burn them off in no time.”

  She opened her mouth, not really knowing how to reply to that, when the barista interrupted.

  “Michelle, your drink is ready.”

  Michelle nodded to the stranger and reached past him. “Thanks, Elise.”

  “Let me pay for that,” the hunk insisted once more, pulling his wallet from his pocket.

  “Not necessary,” the barista replied. “Spills happen all the time. Besides, Michelle’s a regular.”

  “Well then,” he said, “thanks, and sorry again.” He took a step away from the counter to let her pass.

  Michelle took her drink and brought it to her lips, taking a first sip.

  “Uh, Michelle.”

  She lifted her eyes above the coffee cup and looked at him, curious what else he wanted. “Yes?”

  “I’m Nick, by the way. I’m new to the neighborhood.” He offered his hand.

  Hesitantly, Michelle shook it. “Hi, Nick. I’m Michelle, but then you already know that.”

  A broad grin made his face look younger than he seemed at first sight. She allowed herself to look at him more thoroughly now. He had a stub
ble beard, the kind a man who didn’t have time to shave for two or three days would sport. It made him look rugged. His hair was medium-brown, but not dull. There was a healthy sheen to it. His eyes were green-brown, his skin on the light side as if he spent lots of time indoors. He wore a short-sleeved light-blue polo shirt and black cargo pants. Despite their loose fit, it was evident that his legs were muscular, just like his arms, though he didn’t look like a bodybuilder. He was lean.

  “Listen, I get it if you don’t want to be seen with me.” Nick motioned to his shirt. “Stains and all, you know.” He grinned disarmingly. “But considering you made me spill my drink, maybe you could make it up to me by keeping me company while I finish what’s left of my mocha?”

  “Now I made you spill your drink?” She had to laugh at that.

  “Yep. The moment I saw you, I lost all control over my body.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes and walked toward her favorite spot, a large armchair in one corner. Was Nick coming on to her, or was he just being overly friendly? “The way I remember it is that you didn’t even see me. That’s why you spilled your coffee.”

  He winked. “Darn, you got me.” Then he suddenly leaned in, lowering his voice. “Normally that line works, you know, but I guess you’re too smart for that.”

  Michelle laughed. She had no defenses against his boy-next-door charm. It was disarming. And non-threatening, and that’s what she needed right now. Some normalcy in her life.

  She motioned to the second armchair, while she slunk down in her favorite spot and set her computer bag down. “Guess I’m not getting rid of you that easily.”

  Nick sat opposite her and lowered his backpack to his feet. “I’m kind of like caramel, sticky but sweet.”

  She chuckled. “So that pick-up line… Has it actually ever worked for you?”

  He shrugged. “I’m still refining it. Rome wasn’t built in a day either.”

  “So that’s a no then.”

  “Wow, do you always jump to conclusions this fast?”

  “Only when the evidence is pretty clear.”

  Both sides of his mouth tilted up. “What are you, Michelle, some kind of detective?” He leaned across the small table between them and set his drink down. “Should I be afraid of you?”

  “Should you?” She ran her eyes over him once more. Maybe he should be afraid of her. After all, he looked rather innocent, and she was anything but.

  By all accounts, she was a criminal, though she’d never really seen herself that way. She’d been a hacker since she’d first surfed the internet. Exposing things the government wanted to hide from its people had been her mission in life. Anonymous had been her family, anarchy her religion. But all that was gone now, because she had to serve the very enemy she’d fought against for so long: the US government. She couldn’t even run to her old friends, the other hackers, because doing so would only endanger them, expose them. She had to get out of this by herself.

  Which begged the question why she was wasting time flirting with Nick. Because, yes, she was actually flirting with him. She would be better off getting back to work and trying to deliver the person Deep Throat was looking for.

  However, everybody deserved a break once in a while. And what was the harm in talking to a nice guy for a few minutes? It was relaxing, and maybe this was the way to recharge her batteries and get a second wind for today.

  “So you’re a local,” Nick said, just as she opened her mouth, talking over him, “You’re new to the neighborhood?”

  Embarrassed she chuckled. “Go ahead.”

  “No, no, you first,” he insisted.

  “Did you move here recently?”

  “Yes, this week. I’m from a small town in Indiana.”

  Just as she’d thought: an innocent in the big city. “What brings you here?”

  “Work. I needed a change of scenery.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I get that.” She wanted a change of scenery, too. Preferably a sandy beach in a country that didn’t extradite to the US.

  “You work here in D.C.? At the university?” he asked.

  “At the university?” Her eyebrows snapped together.

  He motioned to her computer bag. “You look like you could be a lecturer or something.”

  She smiled. If only she had a harmless job like that. “I think you need to work on your detective skills a little more,” she joked. “I could be a student.”

  Flashing his white teeth, he said, “But you’re not. Not that you look old, but you look a lot more serious than any student I’ve ever met.”

  “I could be a graduate student or a resident.”

  “Yes, but they are generally too tired to stay awake.” He pointed at the young female doctor napping in a chair across from them. “Or too focused on their thesis.” Nick pointed to a young man typing away on his laptop so furiously that she was wondering if either he or his computer would start smoking soon.

  “Point taken,” Michelle admitted, enjoying the little game they were playing more than she should.

  “You’re gonna keep me guessing, aren’t you?”

  “You seem to have fun. Don’t most men like a challenge?”

  “Guess so. But I’m just a country bumpkin from Indiana. And you’re a sophisticated woman from the Capital. I’ve got the feeling you’d just be playing with me.” He winked.

  The country bumpkin routine she didn’t buy at all, though it was cute, she had to admit. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you? Is that why you moved to D.C.? To try out your country charm with city women?”

  “Something like that.” He reached for his mocha and took a sip.

  “So what do you do then?”

  “For a living you mean?”

  “Yeah, for a living. Unless, of course, you’re independently wealthy and are just mingling with the working masses for kicks.”

  “I wish.” He grinned. “But I’m a working stiff.”

  “And you’re not gonna tell me what you do, right?”

  “You strike me as the kind of woman who’d rather find out for herself. Am I right?”

  “Are you trying to make yourself more interesting than you are?”

  He leaned over the table, lowering his voice. “Is it working?”

  She met him halfway. “I’ll tell you once it is.”

  “Well, I’d better leave then, before we become too familiar and all my mysteriousness is going out the window.” He rose quickly and grabbed his backpack. “It was nice meeting you, Michelle. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  She watched him as he marched toward the entrance door, his gait determined. His butt muscles flexed with each step, and she wondered what other moves he had. Moves she didn’t mind him using on her. Moves of a more intimate nature. She licked her lips at the thought. It had been a while since she’d been with a man. Maybe that’s what she needed to unwind: a passionate fling. It didn’t have to mean anything. In fact, it was better if it didn’t. Her life was too much of a mess already anyway. She didn’t need a relationship to add to it.

  At the door, Nick stopped, but before he pushed it open, he looked over his shoulder, grinning straight at her.

  Embarrassed that he’d caught her staring, she took a sip of her lukewarm latte, pretending she hadn’t watched him. But they both knew she had and with undeniable desire. Because, despite the brief interaction, there’d been a spark.

  And maybe that spark could ignite something.

  A quick fire.

  A flame that would burn brightly before it fizzled out again just as quickly.

  5

  Nick had waited for the right moment for several days. It was time.

  He’d done his homework and had found out where Michelle lived, what her routine was, who she met, where she shopped, and what she ate. Most of the information he’d gathered simply by following and watching her without her noticing him. The rest he’d gleaned from internet searches. There wasn’t much online abou
t her, almost as if somebody had taken great pains to wipe out her digital footprint. Either she’d done it herself or somebody in a high enough place had done it for her.

  In either case, Michelle was on the path to becoming a ghost. Here today, gone tomorrow. Instinctively Nick knew he didn’t have much time to make a move. Today he’d go to the coffee shop and ask her out. He’d use all his charm to get her into bed, and then he’d look at that precious computer of hers, the one she never left home without, the one she never let out of her sight, not even when she used the restroom at the coffee shop, when he’d seen plenty of other customers leaving their laptops unattended while using the facilities.

  Freshly showered and shaved, Nick waited at the next pedestrian crossing for the light to change. Beside him several people waited while a woman jogged in place, her eyes pinned to the lights across the street.

  The premonition came out of nowhere like it always did, though he didn’t always know immediately what he was looking at. This time he did. He recognized her immediately: Michelle. She was leaving the coffee shop, bumping into a customer on the way out. The man was cursing at her, but Michelle didn’t even turn her head as if she didn’t notice him. She appeared distracted, with a worried look on her face. Something was bothering her.

  Nick felt himself reach out his hand, wanting to wipe the worry from her face, but in his vision Michelle kept walking, approaching the intersection where the light turned at that moment. She only briefly looked to her right, before stepping into the crosswalk. She didn’t even see the taxi coming from the left. It hit her and flung her into the air. Behind the cab, her body slammed onto the hard asphalt like a rag doll. He knew immediately that she was dead. Knew it with a certainty that sent a chill to his bones and froze the blood in his veins.

  “No!” he cried out and pushed the vision aside.

  Tossing a quick look to either side of him, he dashed through the intersection, darting between the cars, drawing vile curses of the motorists onto himself. But he didn’t care. He had no time to lose, or Michelle would die.