by Dana Nussio
So, why did she still long to have those arms around her, to taste those lips that had been enticingly close? Did she think that she might have the power to heal him or secretly hope he could heal her? If she believed either of those things, she’d lost touch with reality, and she needed to run as fast and far as she could from Special Agent Lazzaro.
Chapter 8
“Here’s your coffee, sir.”
The man hunched behind the PC grumbled his acknowledgment as his secretary set the mug on a coaster to protect the rich walnut desktop. Almost as nice as the one he had at home, but not quite.
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, Donna. That’ll be all. And hold my calls.”
“Remember, uh, you have that nine o’clock meeting.”
Her voice squeaked when she was nervous. He hated that about her. Only he could have hired a secretary who was always nervous, when his office was designed to intimidate guests.
“No interruptions until the meeting, okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
She scurried out the door in that mouselike way of hers and closed it behind her.
“I thought you’d never leave,” he whispered to the four walls that kept more secrets for him than most people he knew.
Still, he frowned at the door. It wasn’t Donna’s fault that the information he’d learned that morning mattered more to him than any of the files she brought to him. She also was as loyal, discreet and incurious an assistant as he could have hoped for. He would tell her to buy herself some flowers. On him.
He lumbered to the door and flipped the lock, just in case. On his way back to the desk, he selected a reference book from the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, but he didn’t bother opening it. He rested it on the corner of his leather desk pad and pulled his laptop from his briefcase instead.
Attaching the external hard drive, he signed on to the Internet using the hotspot from an underground account. He was always careful before, but now it was imperative.
“Let’s see what you’re up to, INVISIBLE ME.”
He smiled as he signed into the first chat room. It was a coup that he’d gotten the name of the task force’s recent Trojan horse. Thank goodness for those individuals who shared too many details with people they thought they could trust.
Anyway, investigators were naive to believe that suspects would fall for a screen name like that. No one understands me. Come get me, creepers. Did they think no one had watched those programs about trapping predators?
His jaw tightened as the words “MR. SUNSHINE has entered the room” appeared on a column to the left of the chat room screen. Why did they always have to announce his arrival like a visitor at the royal court? Those notices made it difficult to lurk. If he didn’t join in, he became suspect.
He scanned the single-spaced list of comments, each visitor’s words in a different color. The conversations comingled in a typewritten shouting match. Screen names like I CAN HELP, TOO MUCH FUN and FRIENDS 4-EVER scrolled over the screen, many participants conducting multiple conversations at once.
But no INVISIBLE ME. Had his great information just been another round of BS? His molars clenched. The friend sharing details better not have been playing him. He could make it awfully difficult for someone unwise enough to do that.
“Wait.”
He typed in a web address for another chat site. His chatty contact had given him a list of places to look. He hoped he could remember all of them. He followed the same procedure with another site.
“Dammit, where are you?”
He was already on his fourth chat room, his index finger cramping from scrolling, when the name he was looking for appeared on the screen.
INVISIBLE ME: Only fifteen minutes late, and they grounded me for THREE weeks. I should run away.
Could she have been more obvious? Apparently, not everyone thought so. Screen names responded to her in a swarm like honeybees pollinating a field of lilies. They commented two to three times for each of her responses. If they only knew that the sweet young thing they were pursuing was more likely an FBI agent with a bottle of antacids and a receding hairline.
Or was it that young state trooper that his source had mentioned? The one who’d joined the task force after the double homicide. He’d been researching this Kelly Roberts. Her smile couldn’t have been wider as she’d stared back from her recruit school graduation photo. Pretty in an effortless way. Built. He might’ve tapped that himself if he were ten years younger and had more free time and fewer business headaches.
He was in control again. Monitoring his accounts on the Dark Web would remain a necessity. He was growing his fortune there, after all. But he had to continue to watch the Surface Web as well. Now that he knew what to look for, he could track the investigation step-by-step.
It was like a scientist studying a slide under a microscope, oblivious to the truth that he was on a slide himself, under stronger magnification and a larger glass.
As long as the investigation didn’t touch him, they were fine. If the search turned his way, well, nothing personal, but he couldn’t let that happen. Unfortunate circumstances happened to people who asked too many questions. He’d worked too hard to build an empire to let an overworked task force destabilize its pilings.
Pushing his shoulders back to stretch his sore back, he scrolled further down the page, observing as the participants bobbed and weaved, ran and chased, all playing their roles in the game. He added a few inane comments from MR. SUNSHINE, hoping to get no responses. He got lucky this time.
Just as he started to click out of the chat room, a new comment to INVISIBLE ME caught his eye. If it was possible for blood to freeze a person’s veins, his were Type O ice cubes.
Your folks should treat you better. I would treat you like a princess.
The word soured in his stomach. He still wasn’t certain. There had to be plenty of guys who got too caught up in Grimm’s Fairy Tales. But “princess”? Earlier, he’d been certain he was jumping to conclusions. Now it seemed like less of a leap. He should have known better than to share his business with the idiot, even if he’d been good for profits. Would he pay for his greed now?
The buzz of his office phone made him jump so hard his knee banged the desk. He swallowed a curse, rubbed the injured joint and grabbed the phone.
“I told you not to disturb me until—”
“Sorry, but it’s already...”
“Give me a minute.” He hung up without waiting for Donna’s response.
He unplugged all the cords and shoved the laptop back into the case. For good measure, he opened the book to suggest he’d been doing research all along. Then he crossed to his office door, unlocked it and pulled it wide.
“Ladies and gentlemen, come in and have a seat.”
* * *
Cory whistled the “Heigh-Ho” tune as he packed a third box with food items. Nonperishable, of course. It would be a while before he had the opportunity to shop for staples again.
The box should have been heavy. There had to be thirty cans of tomatoes, beef stew, vegetables and soups in there. But it seemed light. Like everything else today.
All that searching, all those conversations that started out promising, only to fizzle out in private chats, were over now.
He’d found her.
She was perfect. Beautiful, if her photo was real, and he was certain it would be.
Just one short drive across the Michigan-Ohio border, and they could be together forever.
* * *
Tony leaned out of his cubicle just as Kelly started across the office to the kitchen area. He had to force himself to wait sixty seconds before he followed her there. He couldn’t blame her for keeping her distance from him all week. What had he been thinking? He’d nearly kissed her the other day. Well, it was obvious he hadn’t been thinking, at least with any
thing above the belt.
“Are you going to keep avoiding me?”
“What?” She spun around so quickly that coffee swilled over the rim of her mug. “Ouch!”
“Sorry. I said—”
“I heard you. For the record, I haven’t been avoiding you.”
He couldn’t help but grin at that. Just like he hadn’t been steering clear of her for days. “So, terribly busy following up leads?”
“Something like that.”
He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “Anyway, it wasn’t a big deal or anything.”
If it wasn’t, why had he waited three days to have this conversation? And why couldn’t he stop staring at her lips as he waited for her to respond. Would he still kiss her right now if there wasn’t a risk of someone walking in and catching them? He might need to plead the Fifth on that one.
“Yeah, it was nothing.”
Then why was he disappointed when she said so? He wanted to blame the moonlight. Maybe nostalgia over visiting the playground again. Anything. There was no excuse, then or now, for his arms itching to pull her to him, no reason for his longing to hold her so close that she would have no doubt that he wanted her.
They were working on a case together. There could be nothing more. No matter how tempting he found her.
“Good. Because I thought we would try a couple more voice interactions today. INVISIBLE ME is like the new girl at a middle school. Her fans are flocking.”
“Guess you made her irresistible,” she said.
“I can bat my eyelashes with the best of them.”
Her gaze caught his for a dangerous microsecond, but then she looked away. Her mug caught his attention as her hand trembled, making the liquid slosh again.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t drink the coffee here.”
“Have to stay awake somehow.” She shrugged and then turned away to take a sip. “Insomnia.”
He could relate to that, but his sleeplessness had to do with a woman who looked amazing in a police uniform, regular office wear and, he suspected, would look even better in nothing at all. What was her excuse?
“Share with your fellow insomniac.”
He traded places with her to fill his cup, and she started out of the break room ahead of him. She was already at his desk, her chair and the microphone in position when he made it back.
“Ready to try this again?”
“Absolutely.”
She met his gaze with a confidence he didn’t expect. Was she trying to prove something to him? Trying to convince him that she hadn’t needed him to shield her before?
“Okay, let’s chat.”
The conversation appeared to have slowed during the time he’d gone for coffee, but the moment Tony typed his first line, his admirers were back. Didn’t any of these guys have a day job?
It didn’t take long before one of them sent a private message at the bottom of the screen. GOOD TIME GUY wasn’t all that shy about escalating the conversation quickly, either. Kelly took over the keyboard, and when the guy suggested a voice chat, she didn’t even look Tony’s way before she accepted.
“Hey, your voice is rougher than I expected,” she said into the microphone.
Only then did she glance sidelong at Tony. He nodded his approval. He’d been right to give her a second chance. Dawson and the others didn’t need to know about the other day, the part at the office or anything that happened later. Kelly would be great at this.
When the conversation with GOOD TIME GUY didn’t seem to be going anywhere, they ended that interaction and accepted another offer for a personal chat. She navigated that one with BOY AT HEART and even another conversation with BIG DADDY, demonstrating the skill of someone who’d been on the task force a year rather than a week.
Her breathing might have been uneven, and she might have tightened her grip on the microphone, but she was powering through, as if determined to tease details from each of the possible suspects that they could use to track them.
He’d been wrong about Kelly Roberts. She was stronger than he’d expected her to be. Maybe even fearless. And he was dying to know what had made her that way.
Chapter 9
Kelly gripped the steering wheel so hard her fingers ached as she rocked forward and backward in the seat of the parked rental car. It was still hot outside, but she shivered, gooseflesh peppering her arms. Her heart pounded in her chest as BIG DADDY’s awful voice replayed in her mind.
I can’t wait to see you, INVISIBLE ME.
Again. Had he said that word? She couldn’t be sure. Had something she’d said given her away? Had he somehow recognized who she was? After all these years, was he coming for her? The words repeated, his leer joining the sound, and then the message changed.
She’s mine. Stay quiet, or I’ll be back for you.
She closed her eyes and put her hands over her ears to muffle the voice, but that made the images flash brighter in her memory. His hand over Emily’s mouth. The spinning wheel on her discarded bike. The despised blue stain oozing over the cement.
No one had screamed. Emily couldn’t. Kelly had been too terrified to try.
“Why didn’t I do anything? Why?” She leaned forward and bumped her head on the steering wheel twice.
At the tap on the driver’s-side window, she jumped, her hand automatically reaching for her hip, where her weapon should have been but wasn’t. Her fingers brushed the useless silk of her blouse as she pulled her hand away. Slowly, she turned toward the sound.
Tony was bent outside the window, staring right at her.
“Why what?” he said loudly enough to be heard through the glass.
Kelly swallowed and then reached for the button to roll down the window. How loudly had she spoken, and what had he overheard? If he had grinned and cracked a joke over catching her talking to herself, she would have acted embarrassed and played it off as nothing. His eyes were wide instead, and his jaw hung slack. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost. Hers. The one that had haunted her all these years.
Still, she had to convince him this was no more than minor humiliation. What else could she do?
“It’s nothing. Forget it. Long day.” Her words were coming too fast, and she couldn’t form more than two-word sentences. She cleared her throat. “That’s all.”
“Stop.”
His voice was barely above a whisper, but Kelly’s body still shook as if he’d shouted. Gripping the steering wheel as she had earlier, she opened her mouth to try a second time. His withering stare seemed to dare her to try lying again. She closed her mouth without speaking.
“Now tell me what’s going on. And don’t say it’s nothing because I’m not buying it this time.”
“Maybe...it’s just that you were right. Maybe I’m not cut out for this assignment.”
She couldn’t look at him then, couldn’t bear the heat of his X-ray vision, searing past skin and sinew to peek into her soul.
“And, maybe, there’s more to it than that,” he said.
She couldn’t help but to look at him then, realizing too late that she’d just confirmed what he’d said.
“It’s just. I can’t tell you now. Not...here.”
She couldn’t finish. No matter how tempted she was to give him some abbreviated version of the truth, she couldn’t risk it. Worse than having him recommend that she needed to be reassigned from the task force, she worried she wouldn’t be able to stop talking once the first word escaped.
“You were doing a great job inside. Far better than I would have predicted. But look at you now. Your hands are shaking. You’re sitting as straight as a suspect faced with damning evidence. And, if it were bright enough out here for me to see clearly, I’m guessing your face would be as flushed as a marathon runner’s.”
She shook her head, as much to deny his words as
to push away emotions crashing at her from all directions. “I just... I just need to get home and shake it off. I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just let me—”
“Not going to happen.”
She blinked. “What?”
“I can’t let you take off like this. You’re in no condition to drive, particularly the rental. You’re a state trooper, for God’s sake. You know better than to let someone like you out on the roads.”
She wanted to argue. He didn’t know anything about what was going on inside her. But he was right. She’d investigated several personal-injury or fatality accidents where the drivers shouldn’t have been behind the wheel for reasons that had nothing to do with intoxicants.
“Fine,” she said finally. “I’ll just wait a while. You can go. I’ll be okay.”
“I have a better idea.”
She breathed in a ragged breath. “What’s that?”
“Scoot over.”
“What? I don’t think—”
But he already had her door open. She frowned up at him.
He pushed the door wide and bent inside the space to be at her eye level.
“I’m not going to kidnap you. I’ll just drive you home. Give a guy a break, will you? I just want to make sure you get home in one piece.”
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I’m doing fine on my own.”
“You don’t look fine.”
She couldn’t argue with that. If she looked as bad on the outside as she felt inside, well, she didn’t even want to picture that. He’d straightened but was still standing inside the open door, refusing to budge. She tried a different approach.
“But you can’t just drive me home. You can’t drive my rental. Also, how are you supposed to get back to your car? I mean, thanks for the offer, but it’s impractical, don’t you think?”
“I’m a safer bet to drive the rental than you are right now. Also, you should move into the twenty-first century and remember that ride sharing is a thing now. I’ll contact a RideNow from your place and be out of your hair in a couple of minutes. I get to relieve my worries that you’ll kill yourself on the roads, and you won’t even have to play hostess. Win-win.”
