"Well? What is it?" Dillon moved toward her and leaned his fists on the desk.
Claire sighed again. "That was my manager in Nacogdoches. His computers are locked up, too."
"Same message on the screens?"
"Yes."
The phone buzzed. Claire braced her shoulders and answered. After a couple of minutes, she disconnected. The cafe in Huntsville. Oh, yeah--the day could get worse all right. Another button on the phone lit up. She didn't want to take the call, didn't want more bad news.
Five minutes later, Claire leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. College Station had been hit, too. Her little empire had crashed right alongside her computers.
"I can't believe this is happening," she said. Anger was fast overriding fear. "Every computer in every one of my cafes is down. Frozen with the same message on the monitors. It'll take days to get them all up and running again. Why would someone do this to me?" She sat up straight and looked at Dillon. "Is this what the hacker meant when he said he's taking me down with him?"
"Let's hope so, Claire. Let's hope this is all he means to do."
"But we can't be sure, can we?" She pushed away the fear and allowed the anger to take hold. She would not allow anyone to control her life or her business.
"No, we can't be sure." Dillon leaned over and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "We'll get him, babe. You can count on it."
He was being tender again. Sensitive. Protective. How could she resist him? And how would she survive after he left?
****
"It's getting late." Dillon laid his hand on Claire's shoulder. "We can finish up tomorrow."
They were alone in the cafe. After hustling everyone out and closing the doors, Claire sent the employees home. Natalie and Richard protested, but Claire had stood her ground.
And ever since, she'd been reloading the computers, working feverishly to restore order to the chaos. Dillon looked around the cafe. Claire hadn't allowed anyone to clean up. Dozens of half-deflated balloons hovered near the floor. Richard's magnificent frozen sculpture had melted into a small unrecognizable lump of ice.
"Claire, did you hear me? It's getting late."
Ignoring him, she stared at the computer monitor. He tightened his grip. She shrugged off his hand.
"I heard you. I'm not leaving until I finish."
Dillon turned her to face him. "You won't finish tonight. We're going to your place and get some rest. We'll continue tomorrow."
"I'm going to Nacogdoches tomorrow. I need to reload the operating systems and applications on every computer in every cafe. I'm losing money I can't afford to lose. You can't run cybercafés without computers, you know."
"You don't have to do it all yourself. Isn't that why you hired that tech? Make him earn his keep."
"He's reloading computers as we speak. But I want to check them out. Make certain everything's running okay."
"Look, I'll help you. I'll go with you--"
"No, you won't. You need to stay here and catch the hacker. It's one thing when he messes with those high-tech companies. It's totally different when he messes with my computers. I want this guy's head on a platter."
"And you think I don't?" Dillon asked. "This case has become personal for me. The minute you were threatened, it became personal."
"Really?" She looked at him with those chocolate brown eyes, hope shining in their depths.
He pulled her from the chair and into his arms. "Damn straight."
"Dillon, please don't--" She half-heartedly tried to push him away.
"Don't what?" He gathered her closer; tightened his arms around her. Claire held herself stiffly, as if struggling with something inside. She must have lost the battle, because she laid her head on his shoulder and leaned against him. Claire's soft curves molded themselves to his hard body.
"You're trying to distract me," she mumbled into the crook of his neck.
Her warm breath tickled his skin, heating up another part of his anatomy. "Is it working?"
With a sigh, Claire snuggled deeper into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Yes, damn you. It's working. I don't want to be distracted, but I can't seem to help myself."
"Maybe you need a distraction." He nibbled the corners of her mouth. She tasted good. Sweet and good. "Let me distract you, babe."
Dillon kissed her hard. She opened for him, moaning softly, pressing her body into him. His reaction was instantaneous. Ready, willing and able. Able, hell. More like if he didn't get her clothes off and into a bed soon, he'd die.
He gripped Claire's bottom and pulled her higher to rest against him. He was straining at the bit, fast losing control of the situation.
It didn't matter that they'd made love every night for the past couple of weeks, he couldn't get enough of this woman. It worried him. Scared him. But he wouldn't think about it. Just enjoy it and let tomorrow take care of itself.
Dillon eased a hand under Claire's sweater, skimming his palm over her silky skin, inching his way to her breast. He loved her breasts. Small and firm--a handful of perfection. He brushed a thumb over the satin bra and she moaned again into his mouth.
He smiled in satisfaction. There was no denying Claire's response to him. He deepened the kiss, slipped his fingers inside the bra and caressed the taut nipple.
Claire pulled back and looked at him with desire-glazed eyes. She covered his hand on her chest. "You're good, Mr. Private Eye. Mission accomplished. Let's call it quits and go home."
"All right, then. Let's go." He kissed the tip of her nose and set her away from him. Away from temptation, because he was so hot for her he wanted to get naked now and forget about the bed.
"Help me shut down the computers and clean up a little, then we can leave," Claire said.
"Sure thing." He palmed her bottom as she passed him. Claire threw him a saucy smile and headed for the tables still set out with food. He watched her for a minute as she moved around the cafe, switching off monitors and lamps, dumping leftover food in the trash.
Why was he standing here wasting time? The sooner the place was cleaned up, the sooner he'd have her in bed. He walked over to the row of computers and began shutting them down.
Dillon's cell phone trilled softly from his belt. It was Brozek. He flipped open his phone. "What's up?"
"Hey buddy, I think we have our man."
Before he could reply, the phone on the counter buzzed loudly. Claire shot him a look of surprise and went to answer it.
"Come again?" Dillon asked, not sure he'd heard Brozek correctly.
"I said, I think we've got him. I'm in the van watching yesterday's videos. I've seen the guy in the cafe before, but I don't know his name. There's incriminating evidence on the tape. You need to see it."
"Get over here, quick. Park at the end of the street. I'll meet you there." Dillon cut the connection. The hunt was almost over, the net finally closing in. The hacker was within reach. Adrenalin pumped through Dillon's system, firing him up, setting him on edge.
He glanced in Claire's direction again. She fired him up and set him on edge, too. She'd be happy with the news.
Even though he couldn't hear Claire's conversation, the tone of her voice left little doubt something was wrong. A frown furrowed her forehead as she listened to the caller. Dillon had the absurd desire to kiss the frown away. Man, he was losing it. He walked over to see what was going on.
"Who is it?" he mouthed to her.
Claire held up one finger and shook her head. "Okay. All right," she said to the person on the other end of the line. "I'll be there in ten minutes. I know, I know. Bye." She dropped the receiver into the cradle, tilted her head back and closed her eyes.
"Claire, what's happened? Who was that?"
With a long exhale, she straightened. "Frank broke up with Natalie and she's taking it hard. She really liked him, and she's not used to being dumped. I need to go." Claire turned toward the espresso machine.
"What the hell are you doing now?" Dill
on asked.
"Making an espresso. Natalie loves them." She grabbed a cup and filled it. "Look, Natalie's a good friend. She's always been there for me and I need to be there for her, too. I'll meet you back at my place as soon as I calm her down." Dillon stepped around the counter and took hold of her shoulders. "You can't go alone. We still need to be careful, Claire."
"I'll keep my car doors locked and I have my cell phone in my purse. It'll be on and I won't let it out of my sight. Ring me and I'll answer. Everything will be fine." She wiggled away, snapped a plastic lid on the cup and wiped her hands. "Who was that on your phone?"
"Brozek. Good news--he thinks he's found the hacker."
"Thank God. I'll be glad when this is all over." She pivoted away from him and headed toward her office.
Dillon didn't follow. When this is over. Suddenly, his exuberance evaporated. Would she be glad after he was gone? He ignored the gaping aching hole in his chest.
Claire reappeared with her coat and purse. She picked up the espresso and looked around the cafe. "Would you mind locking up for me?"
"No problem. Promise you'll be careful?"
She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "You worry too much. Soon, you won't have to worry about me at all." Tears glistened in her lovely brown eyes. Her lips trembled on a smile. She kissed him again and ran for the door.
Dillon assured himself she'd be safe. That she'd be okay. Now and after he left. Right.
He finished shutting down the computers. With the hacker almost caught, the case was well in hand, the conclusion imminent. He should be on top of the world. Then why the hell did he feel like his life had crashed just like the computers in the cafe?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Claire knocked on Natalie's door and punched the glowing button of the doorbell again. No answer. She knocked louder.
"Nat, open up. It's me." Cold air whipped around her. She huddled inside her coat, trying to conserve body heat and knocked again.
The door jerked open and Claire stumbled forward. Strong arms reached out to steady her. She looked up into the face of Frank Winslowe.
"Frank? What are you doing here?"
"Come in, Claire. Come in." He pulled her into the apartment. "What a surprise. No, not a surprise. We were expecting you. Here, allow me to take that." He removed the styrofoam cup from Claire's hand, opened the lid and sniffed. "Ah, smells good." He took a sip.
"Hey, that's for Natalie." Claire looked around the room. "Where is she? Where's Nat?"
Frank set the cup on the table in the hall. "Let me put your coat away and I'll take you to see her."
"What are you doing here?" Claire asked again. "What have you done to Nat?" Her skin prickled with gooseflesh. For some reason, she didn't want to relinquish her coat to him. She didn't intend to stay long. She'd see Natalie and leave.
"Your coat, Claire." Frank pushed his glasses on his nose and regarded her in an intense and unsettling way. He smiled, but his eyes held a strange glint.
"I'm waiting." He held out his hands and from the tone of his voice, he wouldn't take no for an answer.
Claire shrugged out of her coat and handed it to him. She shot a glance around the living room. A magazine lay crumpled against the wall; throw pillows scattered the floor; a glass of wine spilled across the coffee table alongside an overturned vase. What was going on? Natalie always kept her apartment neat and clean.
"Where's Nat, Frank?"
Something flickered across his face. "Momentarily delayed." He hung her coat with meticulous care and put it away in the closet. "May I take your purse?" he asked politely.
Claire thought if one word described Frank Winslowe, strange would top the list. He'd always been different, but his behavior tonight bordered on bizarre. Scary, even.
"I'll keep it, thank you," she said, matching his politeness. She hugged the purse close. Her cell phone was there. A link to safety. A link to Dillon.
"Why are you here, Frank?" So much for politeness. "I thought you broke up with Nat."
"I did."
"Why? I thought you liked her."
He shrugged and swiped at the shaggy bangs on his forehead. "I came over to explain things to her."
"What things? Where is she? I'd like to see her now."
"Not yet. Shall we sit for a moment? There's something I would like to discuss with you." He motioned to the sofa.
Claire sank down into the soft cushions, not liking the situation in the least. Frank's rigid stance, the politeness, even his calm, belied the wild look in his eyes. Fear slithered along her spine. Had Frank hurt Natalie? Had he crossed the fine line from brilliance to insanity? Claire knew from experience that love and relationships were enough to drive anybody crazy.
She decided to humor him. "We missed you today at the celebration."
"I'm sorry I couldn't make it." He gripped his hands together, flexing them, staring at them.
"What do you want to talk to me about?" she asked. The man was obviously suffering. From what, Claire didn't know and was afraid to find out.
He lifted his eyes to meet hers. A heartbeat passed, then another.
"I want to discuss Dillon Anderson."
Alarm bells clamored inside Claire's head. "Dillon? The new tech?"
"The game's over, Claire. I know he's a private investigator. What I don't know is why you did it."
"Did what?" She needed to keep him talking. She needed to find out if Natalie was okay. She needed to tell Dillon that Frank Winslowe was the computer hacker. Or did Dillon already know?
"Why did you hire Anderson?" Frank asked. "Why did you let him work in the cafe?" He didn't sit down, but paced around the room.
Claire had never seen Frank so agitated. His calm had disappeared. "I didn't hire--"
"I never wanted to hurt anyone. You have to believe me." He halted in front of the coffee table and stared down at her. "I just wanted to slow them down. Things are getting completely out of hand. I couldn't sit by and do nothing." He turned away and knocked against the table.
"What's getting out of hand, Frank?" Claire watched the last of the spilled wine drip onto Natalie's white carpet, making a dark red splotch. Like blood. Where was Nat? What had Frank done to her?
"Progress is getting out of hand," he said. "Technology is running rampant. All anyone thinks about are the short-term gains. No one is concerned with long-term consequences. No one wants to take responsibility for the future."
"What do you think the consequences will be?" Claire asked. Who would have thought the quiet, nerdy professor was a neo-Luddite in disguise? Why hadn't she seen it before? What else was hidden under that intellectual persona? This whole situation bordered on the surreal. She couldn't panic; she needed to keep a clear head.
"I'm talking about Armageddon," Frank said. "The end of the world. We are destroying ourselves. They are destroying us. It's ridiculous to think they can maintain control over technology."
Claire's brain buzzed with ways to escape, to get out of this situation. This room. This apartment. Where was Natalie?
What to do, Claire? What can you do? She decided to keep him talking. To bide her time. "Surely, security measures have been set up--"
"That's a joke." He pushed his glasses higher on his nose and continued pacing. "Anyone with Internet access can easily obtain any information out there. I'm telling you the stage is set for delusional people to create utter chaos and havoc."
Claire was beginning to think Frank was the delusional one. Maybe he really had crossed that line beyond brilliance.
He stopped in front of her again. "Scientists conduct experiments and create monsters, but they give no thought about containing them if they break loose."
"Monsters, Frank? Come on." Definitely delusional, although what he was saying made a little bit of sense. She could see his point. But that didn't help anything. He'd gone off the deep end, taken matters into his own hands and broken the law. Plus, he'd done something to Natalie. God only knew what. Claire was afraid he was pl
anning to do something to her, too.
"Yes, monsters." Frank sat down in a chair opposite her. "Imagine for a moment a maniac introducing a bioengineered pathogen into the atmosphere. Think, Claire. Doctors and scientists have no cure for viral diseases. What could they do against a bioengineered disease? Nothing. Don't you see? Limits need to be set; someone must be held accountable. Action needs to be taken before mankind is totally obliterated."
"Is that what you've been trying to do? Save the world?" He was beyond delusional.
"Am I trying to save the world?" he asked, as if he were examining the thought for its merit. "Yes, I suppose I am in my own small way. I know I haven't made much impact, but as I stated before, I can't just sit back and do nothing."
"That doesn't give you the right to break the law." He had no right to shut down her computers and business, either.
"What are broken laws compared to the end of the world? But it doesn't matter. I've failed. It's your fault and Anderson's. He's ruined everything." He buried his face in his hands.
Claire almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite. "Frank, you're going to have to turn yourself in."
Slowly, he raised his head. That wild look was back in his eyes. "I don't think so. I'm going out with a bang. Remember? And I'm taking you with me."
"What do you mean? You ruined my anniversary celebration. You've shut down the computers in all of my cafes. Isn't that enough?"
"No."
Just the one word. Spoken almost with regret. Fear was twining itself up her spine now. "I thought you didn't want to hurt anyone. You said you didn't want to hurt anyone." Oh God, he'd murdered Natalie. She felt it in her bones.
"Sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do, Claire." He shook his head sadly. "Sometimes the means justifies the end."
A muffled sound came from the direction of Natalie's bedroom. She was alive. Relief poured through Claire. Frank jerked his head toward the sound.
Claire didn't hesitate. It might be her only chance. Heart pounding, she jumped up and raced down the hall. Maybe she could barricade herself and Nat in the bedroom. Hold Frank off. Call Dillon . . .
Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) Page 13
