Never Tempt Danger

by Denise Robbins

  Heat flushed her cheeks. “Not that kind of staying power.” Lucas had no issues in that department. Shaking her head, she dislodged the errant thought. Did he really think that just because they had sex she would stick around? No, of course not, that was why he had removed her distributor cap. Well, he got his. She had the keys to her grandfather’s Bronco so he would not have wheels for quite awhile and when he finally did get back on the road, Lucas would not find her.

  Now, she had to come up with another secure place to do her work. Hopefully, an idea would hit her soon. Right now, however, Gilly had to get to Jimmy’s and pray that she located his research papers. The worst thing that could happen was for someone to discover what Jimmy and she had with the cognitive thinking robots. She would be paraded around as a freak of nature.

  No! She would not let that happen. She had to find Jimmy’s papers. He was the only one who did the quality assurance testing with her after the first day. That had been the scariest day of her life.

  She remembered it now. Jimmy and the team, which consisted of three engineers and three quality assurance engineers, had gotten together in the lab to demo the robot and to prove to her that the work they had spent nearly a year working on was ready to present to DARPA. Gilly recalled the nervous energy she had that day. Knowing that something she had designed and proposed was so close to fruition and Beta testing with the government, knowing that what they had worked on could potentially save lives made every inch of her tingle with anticipation and excitement. Her father would have been so proud.

  She had worked with Jimmy and his team off and on for the past fifteen months. First, she identified his company as the one she wanted to collaborate with, and then she and Jimmy worked on the DARPA proposal together. After that, they identified the members of the team who would be responsible for making her work come to life. That had been a tricky process. It required a lot of thorough background checks. Luckily, she had gone to Ruby and asked her to let her fingers do the walking on her computer keyboard. If anyone could dig up dirt, it was computer-whiz Ruby Goodman.

  It had paid off, too. Ruby had identified a couple of potential candidates who had questionable backgrounds, including one with a felony and two others with serious drug and alcohol problems. They were not welcome on her project, so she and Jimmy nixed them. That gave them the six engineers that made up their team, plus she and Jimmy. All of whom were in the lab that day.

  They were in the lab running through a bunch of scenario tests that had the robot, Morpheus, mutate like a Transformer from moving on land, squeezing into tight places, going airborne, and finally slipping into the water looking like an octopus. It had been so unbelievably successful that everyone gave everyone high-fives and hugs. She herself had not been able to stop smiling.

  Later, after they had all enjoyed a celebration lunch they were back in the lab when Jimmy showed her some modifications he had made to her original designs. He created a neural network that allowed Morpheus to respond to human brainwaves. Jimmy placed a silver visor like thing on top of his head and slid a power switch to the on position.

  “Watch this,” he told her.

  Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut as if in serious concentration. The next thing she knew, Morpheus spoke to her in his mechanical voice. “Hello, Gilly.”

  “I added a little extra functionality into Morpheus,” Jimmy explained. “What if the men out in the field need to actually control the robot instead of letting it make all the decisions?”

  She interrupted him. “That is not the purpose of these robots. They are to be autonomous and cognitive without the requirement of human intervention.”

  Jimmy held up his hands to stave off further comment. “Let’s just suppose that we have an army troop in Iraq. Rather than send the robot in to drop a payload, we want it to do some reconnaissance, then share the intelligence with the boys in the field so they can decide the next step.”

  Arms crossed over her chest Gilly stared at Jimmy, narrowing her gaze. “Go on.”

  “By adding a neural network or what I like to call a mental Wi-Fi to the robot, we can achieve the ability to have Morpheus respond to a soldier’s brainwaves.”

  She shook her head. “Too much room for error. What if the soldier cannot concentrate or focus well enough for the robot to respond. Then what? The robot and the soldier will be hung out to dry.”

  Jimmy nodded his agreement. “But, let’s say we can get past that, and then this could be of value.”

  Gilly smiled. “I’ll allow that if you can get over that hurdle it would be advantageous.”

  He grinned at her, a bright beaming smile of perfect white teeth. “Watch.”

  Gilly took a seat and did as instructed. She watched. An hour later, she had witnessed Morpheus do several scenarios that they had not tested yet, including one where he waved to her. She had to laugh at that.

  Jimmy took off the visor thing, placed it on a table, and came over to sit in a chair next to her. Taking her hand in his, he stroked the inside of her palm with his thumb. “Come on, Gilly, this could be fantastic.”

  It was when he kissed her cheek and she reached up to touch it that her world tilted. She had inadvertently thought of the robot and the words ‘sweet talker’ when Morpheus mimicked her movement and reflected her words in his mechanical voice. “Sweet talker.”

  She whipped her head around and stared at the robot, thinking ‘oh—my—freaking—gosh’, to which he repeated what her mind had expressed. When she willed it to back off, Morpheus used its Army tank type wheels and rolled backwards.

  She felt Jimmy’s eyes bore into the back of her head and when she turned to look at him, his mouth was agape and his eyes as wide as saucers. She swallowed hard, waited for the rejection, for the fear, and for him to back away. But he didn’t. Everyone rushed over to them and asked what happened. “Did Jimmy make coding changes without telling us?”

  “Did you do that, Gilly?”

  “How?”

  She shook her head and apparently, Jimmy recognized her tension and extracted her from the room. That had been five days before his death.

  After that, she had avoided being in the testing lab as much as possible. She would go in early in the morning or late in the afternoon and work with Jimmy when the others were not around or were occupied. And yes, Jimmy had made coding changes to the robot, changes that he tweaked with her help in those last five days. Tweaks that he documented and that only she knew about. That documentation was the reason she was on her way to Old Town Alexandria and Jimmy’s brownstone.

  TEN

  He pulled into the gas station and hopped out to speak to the attendant. “Hey, how are ya?”

  “Fine.” The man eyed him with a wary expression. Lucas covered his mouth to wipe the grin off his face before he spoke again. “Fill it up?”

  “Yes, please.” The man removed the gas cap, pushed the pump nozzle into the tank and started it.

  “I’m looking for a woman.”

  The attendant’s dark brow shot up. “Aren’t we all.”

  Lucas chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. Although, I have a particular one in mind. A tallish red head driving an old, refurbished Mustang. Have you seen her?”

  The man crossed beefy arms over his blue overall encased chest. “What did she do?”

  Yeah, Lucas could understand the man’s feelings. Gilly had a way of making everyone care. He didn’t have to make the stop but since he needed fuel, he figured this was as good a place as any. According to the little tracking device, she had been at the station for over fifteen minutes before she took off again. He wondered if she had used the pay phone or met anyone here before she took off.

  He turned his attention back to the man and answered his question. “She didn’t do anything…” He debated with himself and then changed his answer. “Except steal my car.”

  The attendant whistled as he removed the nozzle and replaced the gas cap on the Bronco. “That sucks. It was a beautiful car and woman.”


  Lucas inclined his head in agreement.

  “Did she say anything to you? Anyone meet her here? Maybe she used a pay phone?”

  The guy shook his head and greasy hair dropped down from the top of his head and swung in front of his eyes. “Try asking Bob. He’s inside where you pay.” He pointed at the door to the convenience part of the station.

  “Thanks.” He pivoted and went into the store, the bell ringing above his head as he stepped inside. Before he paid, he snatched a soda and a bottle of water from one of the five cold cases that lined the walls then he placed his purchases on the counter and pulled out his wallet.

  “Anything else?”

  “Just some information,” he told Bob as he held out his money to pay.

  Bob took the cash and rang it into the register. “What kind of information?”

  “The guy outside said a redhead driving an old Mustang stopped in here.”

  “Yup. I love when a woman drives a car the color of her hair.” Lucas quirked one brow. Really? He had never thought of that before, but Bob was right. It was kind of hot seeing a gorgeous redhead, especially Gilly, driving his red Mustang. He slipped a hand into a front pocket and adjusted his stance.

  “She had the same effect on me,” Bob told him grinning.

  He felt his cheeks flush before he nodded and continued. “Well, um, did you notice if she used the phone to call anyone or if she met anyone?”

  The guy shook his head. “No. Not that I saw. She used the ladies’ room, grabbed something to drink, and left.”

  “Thanks.”

  He started to turn then turned back. As an afterthought, he asked another question. “How’d she pay?”

  Bob tilted his head to one side, lifting his chin and averting his eyes in recollection. Then he smacked his lips and looked back at Lucas. “Credit card. Miss Maureen Gillman.”

  Shit! How could she be so stupid? What was she thinking? Talk about leaving a trail? On purpose? Not if she was supposedly running from someone. Him.

  “Can I see the receipt?” The man took a step in retreat and crossed his arms over his chest.

  He inhaled and blew out a heavy breath. “Look, she stole my car and I want to get it back. That may be my only lead. I’ll give you the cash for the receipt.”

  “I already ran it through.”

  “Then you get double your money.” Bob debated it for a minute, worrying his lower lip between his teeth then opened the cash register, located the slip and handed it to him.

  Lucas gave the man the cash equivalent and took the paper. “Thanks.”

  Frowning, he pocketed the receipt and took his purchases to the back of the store where the restrooms were located. Just outside the women’s room was a single pay phone. He lifted the receiver and made a mental note of the barely visible number. Then he hung up without placing a call and headed back to the Bronco.

  Once on the road again, he used his cellular to call Ruby. She answered on the second ring. “What’s up buttercup?”

  A short laugh burst out before he composed himself and spoke. “Do you do that on purpose?”

  “What?” she asked with all the feigned innocence of a hooker playing a young girl.

  “Never mind. I want you to check out this number and see if Gilly may have placed any calls from it.” He rattled off the numbers. “She used her credit card.”

  “Why would she do that if she was trying to stay under the radar?”

  Good question. “I have no answer for that. Can you check on it? See where else she may have used it. Um, maybe, wipe it before anyone else can grab the information.”

  Ruby gasped on the other end of the line. “You want me to do something illegal?”

  He smiled as he heard that phony innocence again. “Yeah, Miss Computer Whiz. I want you to delete the locations she used it and report back to me the information.”

  She giggled. “No problem.”

  The line went dead. One of these days, she might actually say goodbye, he thought as he slid the phone into its holster that stuck out from the car’s lighter as it charged.

  Gilly was still moving and heading south. An uneasy itch crept up between his shoulder blades. A warning. Ignoring the speed limit, Lucas pressed his booted foot to the floor.

  ELEVEN

  Gilly parked two blocks away from the brownstone. Tying her hair up in a knot on the top of her head, she attached her 9-millimeter to her waist, and covered it up with her shirt. She got out of the car, locked it up, and hoofed it to Jimmy’s. When she noticed the crime scene tape slashed across the front door, she walked past the house and went around the block where she approached from the rear.

  A white wooden fence enclosed the back yard for privacy and security. She paused at the gate, checking over both shoulders before she squatted down and reached a hand under the wooden structure, her face pressed against the fence until her fingernails scraped a rock. Just where it should be. She wiggled her fingers under the base of the rock and felt around, stopping when she brushed the gel keychain. Wrapping her fingers around the keys, she tugged them out and stood.

  Glancing over her shoulders once again, she slipped the key into the lock, twisted it, and let herself in, shutting the gate behind her. She flew across the yard and the patio. At the French doors, she cupped her hands around her face and peered through the glass. When she determined the place was empty, she used the second key attached to the ring, unlocked the door and stepped inside.

  Before relocking the door, she stood in the dining room of Jimmy’s home, her hand poised on the doorknob, and listened. The only sound came from the drip—drip—drip of the kitchen faucet. Walking around the island, she tapped the handle a few times until the liquid pinging subsided. Then she straightened and went down the main hallway in the direction of the master suite.

  At the doorway, she halted for a second, taking in the disarray. “Sheesh.” Good thing Jimmy could not see the mess and dirt the police left behind. He had been neat to a fault. It had taken her a little while to get used to a man that was so darn meticulous, but then she liked not having to worry about falling into the toilet in the middle of the night because he had left the seat up. But he would have a cow if he saw the fingerprint dust all over his antique furniture. Fingerprint dust.

  That meant the local police had her fingerprints. She bit her lower lip thinking about that fact for a minute then shrugged. Everyone knew they had been in a relationship. Most probably guessed they shared a place. Tears welled in her eyes and Gilly swiped at them. “Not going to dwell on it.” Jimmy had proposed. He had died with her hand in his. Her heartbeat sped up and her palm started to sweat. How could she not think about it, about him?

  Because she couldn’t, she confessed as she walked over to the tall dresser, the dresser Jimmy had emptied and gave her to use. Tugging open a couple of drawers, she pulled out some clean clothes and tossed them to the bed. She quickly changed and stuffed the clothes she had worn in the drawers so no one would be the wiser if the police decided to make another visit.

  “Now, time to find Jimmy’s files and code.” She knew he kept them at home. At least that was what he told her. Her fear that someone would figure out her freakishness, Jimmy assured her that he took every precaution. No one, not even the team that worked on Morpheus, would know the extent of her capabilities. Besides, he also wanted to protect the work they had done on creating what Jimmy believed was the world’s best autonomous, cognitive thinking robot.

  “If I can just find the little FLASH drive then I’m positive I can finish our work,” she promised Jimmy. As far as she knew, the little four-gig drive was all the evidence that existed.

  In his office, she sat in the executive style leather chair and rummaged through the desk. She even slid each drawer out of its hole and flipped it over, knowing that a good place to hide it was to tape it to the underside. She blew out a disappointed breath. “Damn!”

  To the left of the desk sat a credenza. She rolled over to that and perf
ormed the same search procedure. She came up empty. Gilly slouched back against the leather, lifted her arms up and crooked them over the top of the chair. “Where would it be?” she complained to the empty room.

  Glancing around, she took in the various paintings that hung on the linen colored walls. One giant picture she estimated to be about three feet by four feet, the image of a woman dressed in a gauzy white gown in a field of flowers rested above the fireplace. She squinted at it then shook her head. On the wall above the credenza hung several small works of art, but none big enough to hide a wall safe. Then she eyed the wall behind the sofa that sat opposite the fireplace and eased to her feet.

  Either painting would conceal a small vault, she thought as she crossed the room to stand directly in front of them. She stepped onto the leather sofa and approached the first picture. Mindful of the delicacy and the obvious price of the artwork, Gilly placed her hands at the side and at the bottom of the frame before she raised it away from the wall and snuck a peak. No safe.

  She gently set the frame back in place and scooted across the sofa to the other piece of art, this one a reproduction painting of Woman Reading by Henri Matisse. She loved the picture and thought it an appropriate piece to hang in an office or library. With the same care she had given the other one, she lifted the painting from the wall.

  “Damn!” She stomped her left foot and replaced the picture before she stepped off the couch and planted her fists on her hips in frustration. “Where would it be?” She knew there was a safe. There had to be. “Where?”

  “Okay, think like Jimmy.” An uber geek who had all kinds of money and lived in an old brownstone. That pretty much summed him up, except for his charming smile and his ability to read people. “So, where would you put a safe?” Think creatively.

  She looked around the office, eyeing the furniture, the floors, the accessories. “Not here.” He would not put it in the room where he did his work. Gilly shook her head. No. It would be some place completely out of the ordinary. “Great,” she mumbled, “make it even more difficult.” She pivoted and left the room.