Noah nodded thoughtfully. Her slight smile in return faded as a wave of grief clutched at her throat. It took her by surprise. She wasn’t used to feeling much of anything besides fear lately.
Noah slid his hand beneath hers on the table, fingers open, as if he hardly dared to squeeze. Just warm, gentle contact. No words.
She didn’t dare speak. Starting to cry would mess her up.
“You miss him,” he said finally.
She gave him a tight nod. “We trusted each other,” she said. “I was lucky to have him in my life. We were very close.”
Noah didn’t ask the question, but she could feel it hanging in the air.
“Not like that,” she clarified. “He was thirty years older than me, and in a wheelchair with degenerative arthritis. Plus, I think he was gay, though it never really came up.”
“Ah.” She sensed him relax. “More like an uncle, then.”
“Exactly,” she murmured. “A benevolent uncle.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Anyhow, it was a dream job. I made pretty good money, and Dex gave me flexible hours so I could go to art and design school and rent a cool little studio. I did freelance art design too. It was awesome. I loved my life,” she finished, a little wistfully.
His fingers curled around hers and gave them a brief, encouraging squeeze. “I can see why.”
“OK. So how did I end up here? I know you want to know.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Months ago we got a new client, Mark Olund. He requested me as a coach but it turned out he didn’t need coaching. He got the interface on the first try. I offered to refund the fee, but he refused. Then he started coming on to me during our sessions.”
“Happens.”
“Well, I didn’t want it to happen. I mean, it was flattering, but I just wasn’t feeling it. He was smart, good looking, and he had to be rich to afford a GodsEye vault, but he made me tense. It just didn’t seem . . .” She shook her head.
“What?” he demanded.
She shrugged. “Real,” she said. “It was all shiny and pretty and . . . nothing.”
“Good,” he said, with rough emphasis.
“So one morning, I’m reading online about a murder and theft in Chicago. A security expert murdered his client and stole a lot of money and some art pieces. One of them was a brooch worn by French royalty in the seventeenth century. Priceless sapphire the size of a golf ball. There was a picture in the article. Very beautiful.”
He nodded. “OK.”
“So that evening, I did my last coaching with Mark. He’d requested that we do it in his own apartment rather than our open workspace in the West Village. It was odd, but he made the request through the main office and paid the premium fee for a home coaching. That was an extra that we offered for problem clients like Lydia, which wasn’t Olund’s case, but I figured he had the right to use the services we advertised. And he’d always been polite to me. Flirtatious, yes, but nothing scary. I thought I was a good judge of character. So I went.”
Noah’s thumb was stroking her palm. Slow, soothing circular movements. She realized that her hand was shaking.
She tried to make it stop, but the agitation came from deep inside.
She braced herself and went on.“So anyhow. We do the session, and afterwards, he insists on offering me a glass of wine. While he was out of the room choosing a bottle, I wandered around. There was a door open to a room with a table heaped with stuff. All kinds of things. Antiques. Extremely valuable. Made of gold, encrusted with jewels, just piled up and tangled together as if it were junk. But it was genuine. I have an eye for that kind of thing.”
“I know.”
“That sapphire brooch was there,” she said. “I’d just seen the photo. I remembered every detail. That’s just what my brain does.”
He nodded. “What did you do?”
“I panicked,” she said. “I ran away. I’m still alive right now just because he took so long to pick out that bottle of wine.”
“Did you go to the police?”
“No,” she admitted reluctantly. “Like an idiot, I second guessed myself. Started wondering if maybe the brooch was a reproduction. Or if maybe he’d bought it from the thief in good faith. That maybe he was the normal one and I was crazy. I went back to GodsEye headquarters to talk about it to Dex. He always worked late. But Mark followed me there.”
Noah squeezed her hand, but she no longer felt it. She saw the memory as if she was there.
They’d grabbed her right after she walked in. The big leering guy with body odor and huge groping hands held her down on Dex’s work table while Mark told her how she was going to go with them to open Lydia Bachmann’s safe. About the trail of evidence he’d planted to show she was stealing trade secrets from Dex and selling them to other biometric startups. So that when they found Dex’s body, the police would suspect that she was the killer and the DA would charge her with first degree homicide. No priors. But no bail either. Go straight to the slammer and say hello to your public defender, because Mark had cleaned out her bank account just in case.
But if she was very good, Mark might keep her alive. As his pet.
The images were horribly bright, fragmented. Pinching, groping hands. Foul breath choking her. Rough hands curling her fingers around a gun butt and then the trigger. Planting her fingerprints. They were going to shoot him.
Dex was gagged, and watching from his wheelchair from across the room. His horrified eyes begged her for help.
Then Mark grabbed Dex. Fastened his mouth to the top of Dex’s head as if he were sucking it. The look in Dex’s eyes gave her a burst of strength.
She jerked a hand free from the man holding her, kicking and scrabbling on Dex’s cluttered worktable. Her hand landed on an open boxcutter.
She whipped it up. A lucky jab.
Blood spurting. Arms flailing. He sliced her arm in that moment right before he realized what she’d done to him. Blood all over the desk, all over her. Hot, spattering drops.
The guy trying to hold his blood inside his throat with his hand. Failing.
He collapsed to the ground. She scrambled for the emergency exit door. Everything felt horrifically slow. Mired in tar. Dex’s eyes had gone empty and blank.
No sounds, just her heart pounding. So loud.
Mark had been intensely focused on Dex, but his gaze snapped up and fastened onto her as she dashed out the emergency exit. He bellowed with rage as she yanked the heavy door closed—and locked it from the other side, with the GodsEye lock.
That bought her time to run out into the night, sticky with blood—
“Caro? Talk to me.”
Noah was bending over her, his hand on her shoulder. His kitchen swam into focus. His worried face.
Caro licked her dry, numb lips. “I’m fine,” she whispered.
Noah circled the table and reluctantly sat back down. He waited for a few minutes while she gathered her thoughts.
“Mark was there to kidnap me,” she said. “He was going to make me open Lydia Bachmann’s vault for him, and then kill me in cold blood. He had it all planned out, including framing me for Dex’s murder. He didn’t expect me to fight back. I killed the guy who was holding me down. I barely got away alive. But Dex . . . Dex didn’t.”
She suddenly realized that she held his fingers in a white knuckled death grip. She let go abruptly and whipped her hand back.
Noah’s hand stayed outstretched on the table, as if hoping to reestablish the contact. “You knew Lydia Bachmann’s combination?”
“If it’s still the fucking training sequence, then I do,” Caro said bitterly. “It’s not likely she ever followed our recommendations to reset a definitive combination. Lydia sucked at the Inner Vision interface. She even tripped the auto-destruct once. Almost killed us both. We had to tweak her software so that she wouldn’t blow herself up.”
“And where is she now?”
“She’s a missing person,” Caro said. “
Since before Mark Olund showed up at GodsEye. I don’t know what happened to her. I’m sure it’s nothing good.”
Just a nod, and a thoughtful frown between his eyebrows. No other reaction.
“You seem so calm,” she said. “I can’t seem to shock you.”
“I don’t shock easily,” Noah said. “And I suspend opinions or feelings when I’m taking in data. That lets me calculate strategy more quickly.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t remember asking you to do that for me, Noah.”
He looked taken aback. “You think you don’t need any help with this? Really?”
“Of course I need help,” she said. “Teach me how to fight.”
Noah’s face went absolutely blank for a moment.
Caro hurried on. “Look, I killed that guy by accident. I won’t get that lucky again. And I’d prefer to use a gun, not a blade. I don’t want to get that close to Mark Olund. I assume you’re as skilled with guns as you are in hand to hand combat, right?”
Noah’s eyes were incredulous. “Sure, but . . . you’re actually planning to stalk and kill this guy by yourself?”
“If I could find solid proof that he’s a killer and I’m not, then I’d go to the cops,” she said. “But I’m in no position to do that. So yeah, Noah. That’s exactly what I propose.”
“That’s crazy,” he said.
She shrugged. “I get that a lot,” she said. “At least I’m consistent.””
“I can’t let you—”
“Not your call,” she said. “Don’t make me regret telling you everything.”
He studied her carefully, saying nothing.
“Teach me to use a gun,” she repeated. “I’ll be so focused. You’ll be amazed.”
“I already am,” he said.
“It’s not like I want to ask you this,” she said. “Did I mention that I got a friend to help me a few months ago?”
“No.”
“His name was Tim. Big, tough guy. Military training. Big believer in open carry.”
Noah looked like he was bracing himself. “And how did that turn out?”
“They got him,” she said flatly. “Tortured him to death. Cut him to pieces. Gouged out his eyes. I’m not risking that again. So you can either help me do this entirely by myself, in my own way, or—”
“Or what?” Noah asked, drumming his fingers on the table.
“Or nothing. I’m a jinx, if you haven’t figured it out. I have to go it alone from here on in. Although I have to thank you for saving my life so far. I really do appreciate that. But it’s on me from here. Really. It’s best for both of us.”
Holding his gaze when he was angry was a challenge. She could feel the force of his frustration and disapproval pushing against her.
Caro clenched her hands into fists and held her ground. Be tough, Bishop. Fake it til you make it.
Right. She tried, but she felt very fake right now, with all her tough talk. Who the hell was she trying to kid?
Herself, for sure. She didn’t have a choice about any of this. But it was very hard to maintain the necessary fuck-you attitude under these conditions.
“I can’t say I agree.” Noah rose to his feet and walked out of the kitchen.
It looked like she had her answer. She stared after him with tears in her eyes.
Chapter 18
Blasting through. Felt good. Noah rode a huge, energizing surge of AVP energy on the way to his office to get his laptop. But it wasn’t making him feel crazed and frantic. Just fiercely focused on the job ahead.
Caro needed help on her own terms or he wasn’t allowed to help at all. OK. Seemed easier to agree. She’d been too upset to notice that Noah was already formulating a plan. On his own terms.
He grabbed his laptop, stopping when he caught a glimpse of himself in the hall window. His reflection floated on the tinted glass, his weird yellow cat eyes glowing brighter against transparent gray. At the moment, he was too. Even people who knew and trusted him got creeped out by them. Almost no one had ever looked into his eyes unshielded.
He usually didn’t allow himself to notice or care, but right now, he was suddenly, intensely aware that being so different annoyed the living shit out of him.
He went into his study and pulled down all the blinds. Which didn’t help him find his laptop in the clutter. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck . . . there it was. He picked it up, thinking about how Caro looked at him unshielded. She could gaze deep into his naked eyes even while he was inside her, his AVP blazing hot, staring at her and the whole universe sliced up, cross-sectioned, analyzed in every way. She was fine with it.
Noah loved that.
He tried to figure out what she saw in his eyes. Obviously, something very different from whatever repelled all the others—something that she wanted. Exactly what that might be, who the hell knew. He gave up thinking about it after a couple of seconds. He could go back to the kitchen and look at Caro herself instead. That was way more interesting and compelling.
A feeling was nagging at him. Not a good one. Guilt. Fear of what was going to happen when she realized that he knew Olund and Luke Ryan personally. But he couldn’t tell her now and risk her disappearing on him.
And he couldn’t neglect to follow any clue that might lead toward Luke.
He got back to the kitchen and opened up his laptop, typing rapidly. She’d clammed up. Just as well.
He could focus better, get started on the kind of data dive he’d do if was just a gifted hacker who had never heard of Luke Ryan. Knowing exactly where Luke’s lake house was situated and exactly which shell companies owned it made it easier. He wasn’t literally lying to her. Just setting a scene that suggested a different truth. While never directly stating it.
Yeah. He could just keep telling himself that. For all the good it would do him.“What on earth are you doing?” she asked.
“Researching Luke Ryan,” he said. “Look at this.”
Caro circled the table and leaned over his shoulder to peer into the screen. A heavy lock of her ringlets draped over his shoulder and tickled his neck. He was careful not to move for fear that she would brush it away. He liked the way it smelled.
She studied the impenetrable block of data. “What am I supposed to see here?”
“Look there, and there.” He pointed to bits of data as he scrolled. “This piece of property was bought on behalf of Luke Ryan by Wilkes and Meryton, LLC, six years ago. Stoddard Lake. A little more than three hours north of here.”
Her sig showed a flare of cautious excitement. “You think that could be the lake that Bea mentioned?”
“Could be,” he hedged. “Even if it is, don’t get your hopes up. Let’s go see.”
“Not you. I don’t want you involved. You’ve done too much already.”
“Please,” he said. “We can drive up together, right now. You wouldn’t have to rent a car. There’s no risk. We’ll talk about your weapons training on the way.”
She hesitated, and he stroked her hand. Willing her to give in.
“OK,” she conceded finally. “Just a ride, though. No more.”
* * *
It rained most of the way, sluicing the windshield with a wavering blur of water that the wipers couldn’t keep up with. Instead of discussing weapons training, Caro fell fast asleep as they drove deeper and deeper into the mountains. He wasn’t surprised to see her crash after the adrenaline dump from this morning.
The rain finally eased off, though mist clung to the dark green sides of the mountains. The road was a shining ribbon of gray, winding up the tree-covered slopes.
Stoddard Lake was a vacation town right off the highway. The lake itself was long and narrow, surrounded by skeletal white trees. The GPS led them far out on a road that ringed the lake. Cabins and vacation houses dotted it at intervals.
Noah slowed to a halt in front of a thicket of firs. A faint path led through them. A chain that had once been strung from two posts now lay across the road. He gunned the c
ar. They lurched through and over small trees, bending but not breaking them.
The house by the water was luxurious, though not large. Lots of plate glass overlooking the water, a wraparound deck. Luke made good money doing specialized security work, and he’d denied himself nothing. It was plain that no one had been there for a long time. Drifts of pine needles were blown high against the doors and walls.
Noah’s AVP surged as he got out of the car, though his heart was steady. He wasn’t walking a tightrope of killing rage, either. Just a jangling rattle of overstimulated nerves. Scents registered. Earth and water, trees and moss, animals and fish—all translated into an array of crystalline colors, knife sharp in their clarity.
Caro gazed over the choppy lake under the heavy gray sky as he scanned the place, using every diagnostic ability that he possessed. Caro’s was the only heat sig within a hundred and fifty yards of the place, aside from a few small animals. The house was silent and dark. No heat, no electrical activity. The houses nearby seemed equally quiet. Not a ping on his array of supercharged sensors.
Caro herself was cloaked in a halo of blues, indigos and violets. She gazed up at the sky, out at the stormy lake, her hair flying like a banner. Her exposed throat looked so vulnerable. It made something twist in his chest. She was too exposed. Unprotected.
And that was about to change.He slid his arm around her, pulling her against him so fiercely, she stumbled.
“Noah? I—”
He cut her off with a hungry kiss. She felt so good. Her lips were so sweet, tender and yielding. The impulse that roared up was huge. Go for it. Right now.
But the wind was raw and damp, the pebbles on the shore slick from the recent rainstorm. Caro’s eyes were wary as his outsized sexual energy beat against her secret inner senses like waves of heat.
Too much. Pull back. “Come on. I want to see what’s inside,” he said.
Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1) Page 19
