Secret Acquisitions

by Raleigh Davis

  Elliot’s head snaps up. “That’s illegal.”

  “I don’t give a shit! I know that fucker has her, and I’m getting her back!”

  Dev, that asshole, remains cool as I rant, which only pisses me off more. “So you’re going to charge into Fuchs’s secure building,” he says, “somehow find his office before security tackles you, and demand that he release January?”

  “Fucking yes, you cold-blooded bastard!”

  “Assuming he has taken her—which you don’t know, maybe she left for some other reason—why would he hold her in his office building? He knows that’s the first place we’ll look. Or the authorities will.”

  He’s making sense, which only infuriates me more. “Well, what do you suggest?”

  “Was anything wrong before she left?”

  I take a sharp, jerking breath as I remember. I love you. I’ll die remembering exactly how January said that. “God, no.”

  “Think.”

  I try to, but all that comes is memories of her softness, of how close we’d been. How much I loved her and maybe always had.

  “There’s nothing,” I say. “But Fuchs can spy on anyone anywhere. Maybe… maybe he found something incriminating. Threatened her with it.”

  “But we never found anything in the background check,” Anjie says. “Why wouldn’t she tell you if Fuchs had threatened her? Why disappear?”

  “Fuchs found out about her friend sending her those documents.” But even as I say it, it doesn’t make sense. January would have told me about that. “It’s the only thing he could have on her.”

  Because maybe Fuchs didn’t threaten her. Maybe he threatened someone close to her. But that still makes no sense. If the threat was to Grace or…

  It suddenly dawns on me. “He threatened me.”

  “Pardon?” Dev says.

  “Me.” I tap my chest. “Fuchs must have threatened me with… something. So January took off to protect me.”

  It’s a beautiful gesture that’s equal parts touching and infuriating. I protect her, not the other way around. I’ll have to make that very clear once I find her.

  “What could that be?” Finn asks.

  I shrug. “Hell if I know. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. The question now is, has January signed the contracts? And how do we stop her from doing that?”

  Elliot looks thoughtful. “If she hasn’t signed yet, that makes it easy. But even if she has, a contract signed under duress isn’t legal. Both parties have to understand what they’re agreeing to. One could argue that January was under such extreme emotional stress she wouldn’t be competent to understand what she’d signed.”

  “You mean, you could argue it. And win.”

  Elliot chews on that. “Fuchs is going to have some damn good lawyers, but so will we. Then there’s the luck of the draw with judges, but he might not want to risk the exposure of a lawsuit. His company needs the shadows to operate. And his government clients won’t like it either.”

  “Do you think he won’t prosecute the documents leak then?” I ask. Not only could he fire Grace and invalidate her visa, he could have her sent to jail for corporate espionage. Maybe even January too.

  Elliot’s fingers drum on the table. “We can’t completely rule it out, but my guess would be he’d want to keep that quiet too. It looks bad to his clients, and he can continue to use it as leverage against January if he keeps it quiet.”

  A plan begins to form in my mind. There’s a ton of moving parts, things that need to mesh perfectly in order for it to work… but I can see a way out. And a way to defeat Fuchs.

  “We need to schedule a meeting with Pixio. Tomorrow.”

  Anjie nods and pulls out her phone. Thank God for her.

  “Without January?” Logan asks.

  “Oh no, we’re definitely getting her out. We need to hit Fuchs back though.” At Elliot’s look, I say, “Not physically. Whatever Fuchs has on January—we need something worse on him.”

  Elliot looks like he’s about to protest, but Paul cuts in. “Mark’s right. If we stop Fuchs from buying Ultra, he’ll be pissed. He’ll feel we stole it from him. And he’ll want to strike back.”

  “We need a shield then. Do any of you know anything about him? Anything personal?” Even though we move in the same circles, I hardly know anything about Fuchs. He’s not married, has no kids, doesn’t date. I’m beginning to suspect no one knows much about him beyond rumors.

  “Blackmail?” Logan sounds skeptical.

  “Yeah, blackmail,” I say. Logan doesn’t need to be a Goody Two-shoes about this. “This fucker wants to record everyone in America. Let’s turn the tables on him.”

  “Okay, like what?” Finn asks.

  “I don’t know him.” Paul lifts his palms. “Nobody I know does either.”

  Elliot makes a face when we all turn to him. “How am I supposed to know him? All I know is that his assistant is annoying.”

  Logan just shakes his head.

  “Fuck,” I mutter. So much for some good old-fashioned social engineering to help us here. We could hack Fuchs’s phone and computer, but we don’t have time for that. So we’re shit out of luck. Except—

  “Dev?” As I turn to him, I realize he’s been quiet. Way too quiet. “What do you know about him?”

  Dev is doing his usual man-of-mystery bullshit, but I don’t have time for it. He folds his hands and exhales. “I’ve heard rumors,” Dev finally says. “That he’s into… rougher stuff. Dark stuff.”

  “Like what, BDSM?” I almost laugh. “That’s practically vanilla these days. He’s not going to care who knows that.”

  Dev raises a finger. “But remember who we’re dealing with. It’s not how the public would react to the news—it’s how he would react to it being public.”

  “He’d freak out.”

  Dev nods. “Also, he’s not the one holding the whip.”

  I release a long breath as I sit back. I really don’t give a shit what Fuchs gets up to in his spare time—if a session with a bullwhip on his ass helps him unwind, good for him—but if I can use this against him, I will.

  “Do you have any real proof?” I ask. Fuchs will only laugh off rumors. Or maybe not—but I still want something concrete in my hands when I confront him.

  Dev shakes his head. “Only whispers.”

  “Shit.” I pop my jaw back and forth. “I’ll just have to bullshit my way through then.”

  “You’re really good at bullshit,” Finn offers. He turns to Dev. “How the hell did you hear that about Fuchs?”

  “I listen,” is all Dev will say.

  Anjie sets her phone down, her expression sober. “Jack, the CEO of Pixio, is going to be in a meeting all day tomorrow, then he’s flying out to Aspen for two weeks. The best I could get you is half an hour at lunch tomorrow.”

  “I’ll take it. Trust me, January’s demo will only need ten minutes to blow him away.” A wicked thought occurs to me, one way to really twist the knife in Fuchs. “Tell him we’ll meet at Roasted for lunch. Exactly at twelve thirty.”

  Anjie raises her brows, but she goes off to call Jack’s assistant back. It’s an odd request, but I’m confident Anjie will make it work.

  All the pieces are coming together except for the very last one. The most important one.

  “I hate to point out any flaws in your plan,” Paul says, “but you’ve just scheduled a meeting without having found January. You don’t even know if she’s signed the paperwork with Corvus yet. And if she’s not answering her phone…”

  “I’ve got a plan for that too.” I get up from the chair and gesture to Finn. “The rest of you keep looking for dirt on Fuchs. Call me if you find anything. Finn, you and I are going to pay a visit to Ultra.”

  I just hope the team January put together is as good as it needs to be.

  Chapter 26

  My apartment door won’t unlock. And because I’m an utter mess, I start sobbing, right there on the stoop.

  I know this door is
tricky, that I need to be patient and put the key in just so and maybe jiggle it as I turn it, but instead I want to smash my fists into the door until it gives. Which would be awesome, because our landlord would definitely charge us to fix that.

  There’s also the issue of my Lyft driver watching from her car window, probably wondering why I’ve come all the way from Napa and why I’m about to collapse outside my apartment door.

  I give her a tight smile and a wave. “Go away,” I mutter.

  I pull the key out, then wrench it forward, putting most of my weight behind it. It probably won’t help unlock the damn thing, but it feels better than nothing. I put my shoulder to the door and shove as I twist the key.

  My shoulder is starting to ache when my roommate John opens the door. I catch myself before I can smash into him.

  “January!” He’s got a bowl of cereal in his hands. “Haven’t seen you in forever. You look like hell. What’s up?”

  “Been working,” I say as I rub my eyes. I’m way too close to crying.

  He steps aside to let me in. “Congrats on the sale—I saw the news in TidBytes.”

  I stop dead in front of the coatrack. “What?”

  My tone makes his eyes go wide. “The, uh, sale. Of Ultra to Corvus.” He swallows hard. “I mean, it’s all over the tech news.”

  Oh shit. I haven’t even spoken to Fuchs or signed anything, and he’s already announcing it as done. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

  “Right,” I say slowly, trying to think of some suitable lie. “It’s just, it’s not entirely final yet. I was surprised is all.”

  He gestures with the bowl. “Well, congratulations. I bet you’ll be even more surprised once all those millions end up in your bank account.”

  “You have no idea.” I pull my phone out of my bag. I wanted to be well away from Napa—and Mark—before I turned it back on.

  About a dozen text messages from Doc instantly shout at me along with a notification of ten voice mails. So I see she’s already heard the news. I feel like the worst person in the world, letting her hang out to dry like this, but I can’t tell her anything, not until it’s all over.

  I’m so, so sorry, Doc. I hope we can still be friends after this.

  There are also many, many texts and voice mails from Mark. I delete each and every one with shaking hands, taking care not to actually read the messages.

  “Um.” John clears his throat, and I look up from my phone. Shoot, he’s still here. “There’s been a bunch of people calling me, asking where you are. Is everything okay?”

  I hold up my phone. “I shut this off so I could think, you know? And people freak out these days when you don’t text them back in half a second.”

  I don’t know if John buys that since his nod is stiff, uncertain. But he lets it go. “Could we maybe talk about all the stuff that was delivered then?”

  “What stuff—” My mouth drops open as I finally take notice, real notice, of our living room and kitchen—in our apartment, they’re basically the same room. And it’s filled with stuff we never had before. A new couch, a fancy coffee machine, a juicer that costs more than our rent… and I have a feeling there’s more that I’m not seeing.

  “Holy hell,” I breathe.

  “Yeah,” John says, setting his bowl on the counter. “It showed up Tuesday. And the person in charge said we’ve got a laundry service now, we just have to leave the bag out on Fridays.”

  “Who brought this?” Although I think I already know the answer. “Let me guess, has a lot of tattoos, dresses like a pinup girl?”

  John brightens. “That’s her. Is she, uh, working for you?”

  “No,” I say as I continue to take in all this new stuff. “And she’s… involved with someone.”

  Maybe involved is overstating it, but there’s definitely something between her and Dev. Oh, and I’m also about to betray everyone at Bastard Capital when I sell Ultra.

  And Mark…

  My throat closes. Mark did all this for me, arranging it while were together in Napa. Even when I was with him, he couldn’t stop secretly taking care of me.

  Did he take care of Chloe, back when they were sleeping together? And did he turn on her when everyone else did?

  Will he turn on me as brutally when he finds me gone or when he reads the front page of TidBytes?

  I ache at the very thought, which is so, so perverse of me, given that I’ve seen that video. But my heart is lagging behind my head—it’s not ready to give up on Mark and what we might have.

  I press a finger to my temple, trying to push out the pain. “Could you do me a favor?” I ask John in a voice too thick for my throat. “If anybody comes by to see me or calls, can you tell them I’m not here?”

  I have eight hours until I have to meet my fate in the form of Arne Fuchs. I’m going to take that time to curl up on my bed, pull the covers over my head, and wish my life was anything but this.

  “Are you sure everything is okay? You look awful.”

  John’s right to be confused—I should be over the moon with the news about Corvus. But while he is my roommate, we’re not exactly close. He never asked about Grace once she moved out, and I don’t think he’d miss me much if I left either. He’s not a bad roommate, but he’s not a true friend either.

  I summon a weak smile. It hurts my cheeks. “With everything going on, I’ve got a killer headache.” I gesture toward my room. “I’m going to sleep it off before I head back out tonight.”

  “Sure.” John smiles with relief. Of course he wants an easy explanation here. “Congratulations again.”

  I give a wave over my shoulder as I head to my room. When the door shuts behind me, I let myself collapse on the bed. It smells musty after a week of my not being here. Nothing like the sheets on the bed Mark and I shared in Napa. Or the bed in his house.

  I pull the blanket around me and tuck my knees up into my chest, enclosing myself in a cave of dark warmth.

  Chapter 27

  When I slam the Tesla to a screeching halt in front of the secure building where we’ve stashed Ultra, Finn pops the door open before the car’s even come to a complete stop.

  “Jesus,” he snaps as he hops out to stable ground. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so white. “I think I left my lunch back in Los Altos.”

  “Don’t be such a baby.” I slam the car door shut. “You’ve driven sand rails off cliffs before.”

  “Yeah, and that was a nicer ride than the one you just gave me.”

  I ignore him—are we in a race against time or not?—and burst into the offices.

  They look up in surprise, all of them gathered around Doc’s desk. Dark circles and tight brows mark them, the signs of long nights filled with too much coffee and anxiety. Well, they’d better get ready for a few more all-nighters.

  “We are not selling to Corvus.” Doc announces that with a jut of her chin. She bursts out of her chair, ready for battle. “I don’t care what you told January, but we get a say too. And none of us want to work for that asshole.”

  They form up behind the desk as if it’s a barricade, ready to defend Ultra.

  Yep, January really did pick the right team here.

  “We’re not selling to Corvus,” I say. “I swear.”

  “Then why’s it in all the news sites?” Doc gestures with a fist to her laptop. “January never told us, and she’s not answering her phone or her emails. What did you do to her?”

  “I love her.” I can’t think of any better way to say how I feel about January. Love covers pretty much everything in me that’s hers.

  Several of the coders go “awww,” their posture loosening. Doc isn’t having it though.

  “We love January too. Now, what have you done with her, asshole?”

  In under a minute, I sketch out everything for the team, starting with Grace handing over the Corvus plans to January and ending with the Bastards’ meeting half an hour ago. They’re all smart women, and they figure things out about twe
nty seconds into my spiel.

  “Okay.” Doc goes to a whiteboard and begins to erase it. “So we’ve got to get Ultra polished enough to demo it for Pixio tomorrow.”

  I nod. “That’s the easy part, right?”

  “Yep.” Doc points out three women. “You guys are on that.” She writes Demo on the board and underlines it. “We’ve got that handled,” she says to me. “But what about January? Has she signed the contracts already?” She looks Finn up and down. “And what are you doing here?”

  Even though this is all deadly serious, I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing at Finn’s expression.

  “I’m Finn,” he rumbles through his beard.

  “Can you code?”

  He blinks at her. “Can I— Are you for real?”

  Doc shoos him toward the women working on the demo. “Go help them then. And try not to screw anything up.”

  Finn gives me a look that says How the hell does she not know who I am?

  I shrug. “You heard the lady.”

  Finn sighs, then cracks his knuckles as he heads over to a terminal. He might be putting on a show of reluctance, but he’ll be happier than a pig in shit to get inside Ultra’s code.

  Doc taps her marker against the whiteboard. “What about January?”

  “She won’t answer my calls or my texts either,” I say. “I don’t know why. But she’s got to be communicating with Fuchs somehow.”

  A light comes into Doc’s eyes, and I can tell she’s already skipping ahead of me. “It won’t be easy.”

  “I know.” My smile is wry. “She’s probably running Ultra on her own phone.”

  Doc’s smile is wider than mine. “Thank God I helped design it then. Can you help with that? It’s going to be a bitch to crack, even with my inside information.”

  I nod. “Anything I can do to help.”

  Doc gestures me to a workstation. “You can use that machine.”

  “So, what are we doing?” one of the women still standing around asks.

  Doc pulls a chair up next to me. “We’re hacking January’s phone. We’ve got to find everything she might have sent to Fuchs and figure out if and where she’s going to meet him.” She flicks her hand at them. “Get to it. We don’t know how much time we have, and this is going to take all of us working on it.”