by Janie Crouch
* * *
IT WAS NEARLY four in the morning before Tanner made it back out to the ranch.
Processing Steele’s apartment had taken hours, and Tanner had stayed to make sure the crime lab didn’t miss anything. He didn’t normally micromanage the department like this, but when it came to Steele, he couldn’t afford any more slipups.
When the head lab technician told Tanner that they didn’t get a single fingerprint from the entire place, he was angry but not surprised. Steele had wiped the place down before he left.
Back at the office, Scott had assisted in digging further into Bill Steele’s identity. It hadn’t taken long to discover the ID was fake.
Again, angry but not surprised.
When they’d gotten a call of a possible sighting of Steele in Jackson County, again in the direction Gavin had taken Bree’s car, Tanner had driven there himself. If they caught Steele, he wanted to be the first to question him, before any other county decided they had dibs if his real identity came back as someone more dangerous.
But it had been a false alarm, costing Tanner three hours of his time. Time he couldn’t afford when there was both a psycho and some sinister technology organization out to harm the woman he couldn’t get off his mind.
He shouldn’t have come at all, should’ve just stayed at his place in town. But despite trusting his brother implicitly, he needed to see with his own eyes that Bree was okay.
He rubbed the back of his neck as he got to the door, then held his hand up in a wave to Noah. He didn’t bother looking around. He didn’t know where his brother was, but Tanner had no doubt he was close.
Tanner let himself in the house, closing the door behind him, and just listened. Quiet.
But not the utter stillness that normally permeated his house when he arrived. There were signs of life everywhere. A bib resting on the kitchen table. One of the car seat carriers sitting on his couch. Bree’s sweater hanging off the back of a chair.
He’d always purposely lived a solitary life. He’d known since he was ten he wanted to go into law enforcement, then had seen what it had done to his mother when his father died in the line of duty. And even before that, the long, odd hours—sometimes being called away in the middle of the night—and the general stress of this job had often placed a heavier burden on his parents’ marriage.
So Tanner had always kept his relationships casual and simple, never planning to drag a woman into this life with him.
But nothing about Bree was casual.
And very definitely not simple.
He took off his holster and out of habit—niece and nephews—set it in the small gun safe next to the door. He kicked off his shoes and planned to grab a blanket out of the linen closet and immediately lie down on the couch.
He found himself walking into his bedroom instead.
Found himself stopping and staring at Bree lying curled in his king-size bed.
Found his breath stolen at the way moonlight shined through the window, casting an otherworldly glow on her long brown hair and delicate features.
At least in sleep she didn’t have the same pinched and uncomfortable expression she’d had in all the photos he’d studied of her today. Like she would never know what it meant to fit in with other people.
Like she would always be alone.
He wanted to go to her and pull her up against him, tell her she didn’t have to look like that anymore.
He took a step closer before he could stop himself then breathed out a curse as her eyes fluttered open, afraid he’d frightened her.
“Tanner?”
“Yeah, it’s just me. Go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Are you okay?” She reached out toward him, her voice soft, husky.
Sexy.
He took a rapid step backward.
Immediately a shuttered look fell over her features, slamming away the welcoming look that had resided there a moment before. “I’m sorry. Do you want your bed? I can get up.”
He recognized her tight expression right away. God knew he’d seen it enough times in the pictures today. Uncertainty. Discomfort.
Isolation.
And he’d been the one to put that look in her eyes this time.
She withdrew the arm she’d reached out to him.
No, damn it. He wasn’t going to let her withdraw from him.
He crossed until he was standing right next to her. “Actually, I would like my bed.”
“Oh.” She sat up. “Okay. Just let me—”
“No. I want it with you in it.” Before either one of them overthought it, he reached down, took her slight weight in his arms and slid her over. Then got into the bed next to her.
He turned over onto his side then looped an arm around her waist and pulled her up against him.
For the first time since he’d gotten that message from Steele that Bree was in trouble, Tanner relaxed. She was in his house, his bed, his care.
He kissed her hair. “Go back to sleep. I just want to be with you. Even if it’s just for tonight.”
She didn’t say anything but a few moments later began to relax against him.
And everything about it felt right.
Chapter Twenty-One
When Bree woke up a few hours later, Tanner was gone. She saw so little of him for the next three days, she was almost convinced she’d imagined the whole thing.
Imagined lying in bed with his strong arms securely around her. Imagined feeling safe and secure and cherished for the first time in her life.
She knew why Tanner hadn’t been around much. He’d explained about creepy, thin guy—Steele, or whatever his real name was—and his obsession with her and the twins. Tanner and Scott had been working around the clock trying to find him.
Bree couldn’t even wrap her head around it. Only she could somehow gain a psycho stalker at the same time as being hunted by a deadly organization intent on her capture or death.
She knew Tanner had questions about the Organization. That it wouldn’t be long until he began to press her for info.
Rightfully so.
Because what about Melissa? Except for that panicked conversation a few nights ago, Bree hadn’t heard anything from her cousin in two weeks. Had no way to hear from her.
Had she been caught when she warned Bree?
Was she even still alive?
Bree refused to accept that her cousin was dead. But she also couldn’t run from the truth any longer.
Melissa couldn’t defeat the Organization. It didn’t matter how motivated or determined she was. She just didn’t have the hacking skills to get around their system.
Michael Jeter was a computer genius. He would have backup systems and trapdoors that someone like Melissa—even as competent as she was—wouldn’t be able to get around.
He was the type of computer genius no one could beat.
Except another computer genius.
Here Bree sat on the steps of a ranch in the middle of Colorado, rising sun kissing her skin, healthy babies sleeping inside a warm, sturdy house.
Hell, she even had a pregnant dog sitting beside her supplying companionship, her master out somewhere providing protection against any threat that might come her way.
Bree was living a stolen life.
She was in someone else’s house, with someone else’s kids, even someone else’s damn dog.
Even worse, she was stealing from people she cared about. And she had the means to stop it all if she wasn’t a coward.
Melissa couldn’t stop Michael Jeter.
But Bree could.
She lifted her face to the low-lying sun, breathing in the air pungent with life. These porch steps, in less than a week, had made her feel more like she had a home—a place in the world—than her apartment in Kansas City ever had. And definitel
y more than any place she’d shared with her mom for a few months at a time.
But it wasn’t her place. And it never would be—she would never be able to live with herself—if she didn’t do what she could to help Melissa.
To ensure Christian and Beth had their mother around to raise them.
She heard Tanner pulling up long before his car parked in front of the house. He’d worked all night again to protect her, or hopefully caught a few hours’ sleep at his place in town.
As Tanner’s SUV door shut, a sharp whistle came from the trees on the other side of the property near the back of the house, and Corfu got up and trotted off.
“I guess Noah’s babysitting duties are over for the day since you’re home.”
Tanner sat beside her. He was wearing his civilian clothes, including that cowboy hat that set her heart beating faster than it should. He didn’t look too tired.
“He doesn’t mind.” He knocked her knee with his. “You okay?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
His browed furrowed together. “What happened?”
She wrapped both arms around her knees and pulled them to her chest. “I tried to pick up both Christian and Beth yesterday evening at the same time. They lunged for each other, and I nearly dropped them both.”
He muttered a curse. “Did one of them get hurt? Hell, did you get hurt? Those kids weigh a ton now. And they’re more active than ever.”
She leaned her head on her arms and studied him. “No, I got them under control and put one of them down. But you’ve just made my point. They’re so big. They’re growing more every day.”
“Um, I think babies are supposed to do that.”
She looked out at the horses again. “But they’re not my babies. Every day that I get to hold them and feed them and play with them is another their mother misses out on.”
“But I thought Melissa wanted you to keep them safe while she did whatever is needed to take down these people she works for.”
Bree shook her head, hugging her legs tighter. It was time for complete honesty with Tanner.
Way past time.
“Melissa can’t do it. Whatever she’s doing is not going to be enough to stop them.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know who she’s up against. I was part of that group before my mom got me away from them when I was thirteen.”
“The Organization? That same group that you said was dangerous and would kill us all?”
She nodded.
Tanner ran a hand over his face. “I need you to tell me exactly what is going on. Exactly how you’re involved and exactly what needs to be done to keep you and the kids safe.”
“It’s not an easy story to believe.”
“Try me. Trust me.”
She stared out into the gathering dawn. “I never went to college. Never really went to school at all actually, after I turned thirteen. That’s not to say I never had an education, just that I never went to the buildings like most other people did.”
“You were homeschooled?”
“Sort of. More like, I was a genius-level hacker who could read three times as fast as most people and could visualize code twice as fast as that. So I taught myself everything I needed to know.”
He nodded slowly, so she continued.
“My father died when I was just a baby, and my mom struggled to provide for us on a waitress’s salary. I wasn’t an easy kid. If you think I’m awkward and prickly now, you should’ve seen me then. When I was six, she realized I had a gift for computers.”
More than a gift. So much more than a gift. A huge blessing.
And a curse.
“By the time I was eight, everyone in the entire school system for the whole county had taught me everything they knew. By that point, I was teaching them new things about coding and software development.”
“You were a child prodigy. Like kids with the instruments.”
“I guess, except a computer was my instrument rather than a violin or piano. But yes, I could—can—play it beautifully. That’s how I came to the attention of Communication for All. You’ve heard of them?”
He took a sip of his coffee. “The charity group? Sure.”
“They have schools for underprivileged children to help them learn computer skills and hopefully better their lives.”
“Sounds like a perfect fit for you.”
She shook her head, remembering quite clearly how excited she’d been at eight and a half to finally be around people who understood her. Who knew as much about computers as she did and didn’t think she was odd.
The people at Communication for All, especially Michael Jeter, revered her.
At least at first.
“I quickly got the attention of people high up in that organization. They wanted to groom me for important things. They brought me to live at one of their schools. My mom didn’t want me there by myself, so they brought her, too. All expenses paid—my mom didn’t have to pay for a thing and was even able to quit her job. They even brought my cousin, Melissa, since she also had skills beyond her years.”
“Sounds like an amazing opportunity. I’ve always heard wonderful things about Communication for All.”
Bree stared straight ahead. “No doubt you have.” Everybody had.
“Yeah, I mean Michael Jeter has pretty much been termed an altruistic genius by every person who’s ever...” Tanner faded out. “Jeter.”
He stood with controlled movements. She wasn’t surprised he was figuring it out. Tanner was too smart, too observant, not to piece it all together.
“That guy in the alley in Denver was talking to a Mr. Jeter.” Tanner turned to her. “You stiffened at the name, but I misread your body language at the time. I thought it was because of the guys with the guns. But it was because Jeter was threatening to come there personally.”
“When I was eleven, I outgrew most of the instructors at Communication for All. I knew more about system development and coding than they did. I was twelve when I backdoored into their main system and...”
Her whole life had changed that day. What had started out as preteen mischief and an attempt to show off had ended in a nightmare.
One she was still trying to wake up from.
“Bree?” Tanner sat back down beside her and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against his chest.
God, he felt so strong. Like nothing could get through him. Nothing could break him.
But everyone could be broken. A twelve-year-old Bethany had learned that very quickly.
“I found out every dirty secret the inner board of Communication for All had. They’re evil, Tanner. Human trafficking, weapons and information sales. They use their humanitarian front to get into places without much scrutiny.”
He stiffened. She could almost hear his mind working, attempting to process it all. He stood up and began pacing again. “Good God.”
“I know,” she whispered. It was difficult to take it all in.
“Everybody can’t be in on it,” he finally said. “Communication for All must have a thousand employees. They couldn’t keep it under wraps.”
She shook her head, rubbing at the tension forming at the back of her neck. “Most of them don’t know what’s really going on. They are trying to achieve the admirable mission associated with Communication for All. It’s a very select few, an inner core of about twenty-five people, who know the truth and are behind it all.”
“And you discovered this was going on when you were twelve?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “At that point they were just starting to dip their toes into utilizing cell phones for illegal data mining. Run-of-the-mill stuff at first... software that caused phones to report credit cards or bank account numbers to them. Then they expanded.”
“Expanded how?”
“I didn’t make up that stuff I told you in Denver. They’re utilizing cell audio and video mechanisms to record data, even when cameras and microphones aren’t actively running. I know you don’t have a smartphone, but have you ever heard people complain about how fast the batteries run down even when they’re not using them?”
He began pacing again. “Sure. All the time.”
“That’s the Communication for All system pulling data off their phone. Every time there’s a system update, they use it to piggyback onto more phones.”
He stopped and stared at her. “How many do they have now?”
“According to Melissa? Millions. And they can use those phones to record data anytime they want. To find anyone they want. It’s basically making a worldwide information grid that they control. Nobody will be able to hide. And it’s about to get so much larger.”
“How?”
She rubbed her eyes with her fingers. “Three days from now is the International Technology Symposium in Denver. Major phone manufacturers will all be there. Communication for All will provide them with some wonderful bit of technology that will be a breakthrough of epic proportion. They’ll be hailed as heroes when they offer it to manufacturers for free.”
“But there’s a catch.”
She nodded. “The tiniest of Trojan horses. A few lines of code that would probably be missed, even if the manufacturers were suspicious and went over the coding line by line. But from such a trusted source like Communication for All that has no ulterior motive? No one will ever even suspect it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “How do you know about it if you’ve been gone for ten years?”
She forced an even breath. “That Trojan horse was the last thing they tried to get me to build before my mom took me and ran. But I didn’t do it. I could’ve, but I didn’t. And it’s taken them ten years to get caught back up.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t force you. You were only a kid. With everything they’re capable of, I would think brutalizing a single child wouldn’t have been out of their wheelhouse.”
Even now, ten years later, bile pooled in her stomach as she thought about it. The memory of the sound of her own bones breaking a split second before the pain ripped through. Her body still woke her up in a cold sweat sometimes.
