Cooper laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back. “Well, then, between yours and mine, I’d say we have her covered.”
“Hope you have it covered in your budget, Cyrus.”
“I know how to run my department.”
Travis raised his hands. “Whatever you say. I have to get back to work.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, there is one other thing. Rosa, the cook . . . Our old one, Helen, recommended her when she left. See if you can find Helen. I want to talk to her.”
Cooper leaned forward and placed his hands on his desk. “Yes, sir.”
Travis ignored the slight inflection Cooper placed on the last word. He knew Cooper thought his former branch of the armed services—the Marines—was superior to the Army, where Travis had served. And he felt Cyrus may have had some personal grudge with Travis—his assumption of the top spot without ever having worked at the company, for example. Or maybe they just didn’t like each other. In any case, Travis knew he’d have to pick his battles with Cooper, and now was not the time. He met Cooper’s gaze until the older man finally looked away, then turned for the door.
A dozen things demanded his attention in his office, but he muzzled the nagging voice in his head and took the stairs up two flights. Wending his way through a warren of cubicles, he came to another windowless office and entered without knocking. The large space was dim, lit only by two desk lamps and several computer screens. The air was stale and overly warm, and underlying the strong odor of hot wiring and electronic components was a note of high school gym locker.
Three kids not much older than Tess, all male, crowded around a large video monitor. They all wore the uniform of the day—T-shirts and jeans—and all were badly in need of haircuts. Pale skin, turned blue by the light from the screen and mottled with sparse patches of fuzzy facial hair, signaled how little sunlight they saw. One of them sat in front of the monitor, the other two hunched over on either side, all of them intent on the action on screen—flashes of light as vehicles and buildings exploded, geysers of blood as foes were dispatched with every weapon imaginable. Travis recognized the video game as one of the more popular releases in recent years. It wasn’t one of MondoHard’s—and definitely wasn’t James’s.
Several moments passed before one of the onlookers took notice of Travis, the excitement on his face quickly devolving into a serious expression as he turned. His companion glanced at him and did a double take at Travis.
The first one nudged the game player and nodded at Travis. “Hey, what’s up?”
Travis nodded. “Derek Hamblin?”
The kid in the chair spun around and looked at Travis from under a tangled sheaf of dark hair. One eyebrow was accented with a silver ring. He slouched in the chair, gray vest over a black T-shirt open in front to reveal a line-art drawing of Kurt Cobain. His black jeans were frayed and torn, but Travis figured the kid had bought them that way instead of wearing them out. Five Chinese characters were tattooed on one forearm in black ink.
“I’m Derek,” he said. “Help you with something?”
The two still standing looked at each other. Some unspoken signal passed between them, and they headed for the door.
“Hey, man,” one said to Derek. “Catch you later. We’re going to get a bite. Want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Derek said with a small wave.
Travis took another step forward as the two on their way out parted and went around him. His gaze took another hike from Derek’s grungy sneakers to his unwashed hair. Derek was everything Travis wasn’t—rude, insubordinate, undisciplined, surly, and lacking in any social graces.
Which means he’s probably a dead ringer for James at about the same age. Just what I’m was looking for—if I’m careful.
“You know who I am?” Travis said.
Derek shrugged. “Not really.”
“I run this company.”
“Well, yeah, I knew that much. I thought maybe you were getting existential on me.”
Travis jerked his chin toward the monitor. “Is that what you do all day? Play video games on company time?”
Derek glanced over his shoulder at the frozen screen. “Pretty much. Gotta know what the competition is doing before you can come up with something that’ll blow people away.”
“Ah.” Travis fingered the memory stick in his pocket. “You good?”
“What? At playing? Designing? Or coding? Take your pick—I’m the best.”
Travis raised an eyebrow. “Big words.”
“You want a list of secure sites I’ve hacked? I’m talking about NSA-level, supposedly impregnable websites. Code? Is that what you’re talking about? The last two titles this company put out? Both mine. Yeah, I’m good.”
Travis nodded and held out the memory stick. “A file got deleted. Can you recreate it?”
Derek snorted. “Even you could probably do that. There’s a ton of recovery software on the web. You don’t need me for that.”
“I’m not finished,” Travis said. “First, I don’t think you’re going to find it that simple to restore the file. But I also want you to see if you can figure out how it was deleted—and where it went.”
Hamblin stared at him curiously, and Travis knew he had him hooked.
“What’s in this file?” he said.
Travis shrugged. “I don’t know. If you can recreate it, that might be your next job. There could be others after that.”
Hamblin rubbed his chin and stared at the floor for a moment. Finally his gaze rose and landed on Travis’s face. “Why me?”
“Your rep, first of all. A few other people have noticed your work.” Travis watched the effect his words had. Hamblin almost glowed, but quickly wiped the small smile from his lips so it wouldn’t look like he was gloating. “Frankly, I need someone I can trust. Someone not vested in his or her work on the defense side of the business. Can I trust you, Derek?”
Hamblin chewed on the question for a while and seemed to like the taste. He nodded.
“Sure, why not?” he said. Worry darkened his face. “You’re not talking about anything illegal, are you? I mean, it’s not like I’m a wuss. I may have skirted the law myself on occasion. It’s just—”
“No,” Travis said, “nothing illegal. But you can’t tell anyone. Not even your best buds. And this doesn’t take the place of your normal responsibilities. You’ll have to figure out a way to do this on the side, without your friends finding out.”
He shrugged. “They’re not really what you’d call friends.”
“Okay, then. Seems we have an agreement.”
Expectancy brightened his expression. “Will I, like, get anything extra for this?”
Travis felt the smile on his face harden to a brittle grimace. “You’ll get the satisfaction of knowing you did the right thing.”
Hamblin rubbed the back of his neck and reached for the memory stick. “I guess that’s okay.”
Travis squeezed his outstretched hand into a fist. “Good choice—partner.”
Hamblin reached out and hesitantly hammered the top of Travis’s meaty hand with his own fist.
CHAPTER 31
“That certainly went well,” Tess muttered to herself.
“What?” Oliver said.
She hadn’t really intended him to hear, but it didn’t make much difference. “Second day of school. And I was there for only one period.”
“Uh, yeah, I know,” Oliver said. “I was there, too.”
“You weren’t humiliated in front of all the people who are supposed to be your friends.”
“And you didn’t almost get your ass kicked by a crazy person. Or get called into the principal’s office. Sorry, assistant principal. Or get questioned by the cops. Why? Because I was there to do all that for you, Miss I-Have-to-Be-Perfect-or-No-One-Will-Like-Me.”
“It’s not your school,” she said, heat rising in her face. “You don’t have to go there for the next three months and deal with these peopl
e.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I have to do exactly that. Get it through your thick head, Tess, I’m in this with you. So whatever happens to you happens to me.”
“It’s not the same! Don’t you understand?”
“Oh, I get it all right. I get that you’re a spoiled, self-centered, whiny brat who’s more concerned about her image than her life or the lives of those around her.”
“You are so mean! I hate you!”
“Keep it down back there, you two,” Kenny said. “I need to focus on the road.”
She turned away and felt the moving vehicle rock her gently. She blinked back tears, determined not to give Oliver the satisfaction of seeing her cry—again.
“Bad day?” Luis said, his voice close, as if he’d turned around.
“The worst!” Tess said. “Everyone thinks I had something to do with Carl getting killed. Even Toby.”
“Toby?” Oliver said. “Oh, now I understand. You like him, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Adrienne sure seems to think so. What’s the deal with you and him?”
“I don’t care about Adrienne.” Tess heard her voice rise, but she couldn’t help it. “She’s such a bitch! She—”
“Shut up!” Kenny shouted. “God, you two sound like you’re married. I can’t concentrate.”
Tess pressed herself against the door to get away from Kenny’s anger.
“Hey, man,” Luis said. “Chill! They’re just kids. Sorry about that, Miss Barrett. If you could try to keep it down a little, it would help, but Kenny needs to learn some manners.”
Silence fell inside the vehicle, thick and foreboding as dense fog. A pang of something like guilt ran through Tess, stirred by a fleeting memory that was gone before she could see what it was. Her heart beat so loudly she was sure the rest of them must have been able to hear it, too.
“Sorry,” Kenny said gruffly. “Just trying to do my job, you know? Protect you.”
“That’s okay,” Tess mumbled.
“No, it isn’t,” Kenny said. “I should be able to concentrate even if there are bombs going off around us. It won’t happen again.”
The fog in the SUV seemed to lift, and some of the tension in Tess’s shoulders eased.
A moment later Oliver said in a low voice, “She what?”
“She who?” Tess said, confused. “You mean Adrienne? She stole Toby.”
“You and Toby were dating? What happened?”
Tess turned toward the sound of his voice and pointed at her face. “This happened.”
“The accident?”
She nodded and swallowed hard, fighting tears again.
What is wrong with me? It’s not like it happened yesterday. Toby hasn’t been part of my life for a year.
“The accident.” She said. “After that, we stopped seeing each other. Literally.”
“His loss.”
She didn’t reply. People always said something like that, as if it would somehow make things better.
Yes, it was Toby’s loss, but mine as well.
“Why’d you break up?” Oliver said.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Tess folded her arms and turned away, pressing her forehead against the cold glass.
The silence returned, almost comforting this time. It was several minutes before the vehicle came to a stop and Luis announced that they’d arrived at the house. Tess let herself out. She hadn’t heard the garage door open, so she assumed Kenny had stopped in the circle outside the front door. Without waiting for Oliver, she made her way instinctively toward the door, tentatively extending each foot in front of the other until she encountered a step. She felt for the railing and used it to guide herself up the remaining steps to the door.
“Not again,” Oliver said behind her with a groan. “Come on, Tess, wait up.”
She ignored him and pushed through the big door, stripping off her coat as soon as she was inside. She left it on the floor and hurried toward the kitchen. On familiar ground, she moved faster, leaving Oliver farther behind. By the time she reached the kitchen, the house had grown quiet.
“Alice?” she said.
No response. Distantly, she heard the front door close.
“Tess?” Oliver called. “Where are you?”
She didn’t answer.
Let him figure it out. If I can get around without eyesight, he can find his own way to the kitchen.
The stillness returned, not even broken by Oliver’s footsteps or the sound of the SUV outside.
“Alice?” she said again, softly this time, already knowing there would be no answer.
Nervous now, she took a step and stretched out her hand in search of the center island. She heard the soft tread of a footstep behind her. Before she could turn, an arm snaked around her throat. Adrenaline flooded her system, jump-starting her heart and jolting her muscles into action. Instinctively, she latched onto the arm with both hands and turned, thrusting her hip out. She rolled her shoulders, nearly doubling over, and felt the weight of the person behind her shift onto her hip and off again as her motion propelled the body up and over.
The body thudded on the floor in front of her. Still holding the person’s arm, her hands slid up until she felt a wrist. She grasped it, fingers quickly finding pressure points. She pressed down hard and bent the hand back, dropping onto one knee. She heard a whoosh of breath as her knee landed on the person’s chest, and she forced the hand back even farther, angry and frightened enough to break it if she had to.
“Who are you?” she screamed. “What do you want?”
Someone gently tapped her wrist. “Aieee, missy! Enough!”
“Yoshi?” she said. As soon as she said it, she recognized the earthy scent of loam and mulch mixed with vanilla and green tea that was uniquely Yoshi’s.
“Hai, missy. You remember.”
“Holy crap, Tess! Do you know what you just did?” Oliver’s voice this time.
“What? Oh, Yoshi, I’m so sorry.” Confused, Tess struggled to keep her emotions in check as her heart pounded. A strong hand grasped her upper arm and helped her up.
“That was awesome,” Oliver said. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
“I don’t know . . . What do you mean? Do what?”
“She remember the jujitsu I teach her,” Yoshi said, on his feet now, his voice level with her ears. “We spend many long hours practicing out in the garden when she was a little girl.”
“Not that little, Yoshi,” Tess said. “And don’t forget, I went to a dojo during middle school when you were too busy to teach.”
“Ah-so, not too busy. Just thinking you should learn from different sensei.”
“But why did you do that? Why did you pretend to choke me like that? Unless you’re one of them . . .”
“No, no,” he said hurriedly. “I not like those bad men. I want you to remember, to know you are not so helpless as you feel.”
“My god, Tess. I wish you could have seen yourself,” Oliver said. “You were amazing.”
She flushed. It had felt good, even if Yoshi had nearly scared her to death.
“What about stones?” Yoshi said. “You use stones I give you?”
“What stones?” She frowned. “Oh, right, the ones you gave me before school yesterday. I think I put them in my backpack.”
“You be good to use them, missy.”
“What kind of stones?” Oliver said. “What do they do?”
“Some people call them worry stones,” Yoshi said. “But they have special powers. You see. And now you see you still know jujitsu, we practice every day after school.”
Tess groaned. “Not every day. Besides, how do you know I can really do it? If I can’t see you coming, I won’t know what to do.”
“You see me coming that time? I not think so. You practice. Every day.”
“Maybe.” She drew the word out. “I’ll think about it, Yoshi.”
“You not think too hard, missy or you hurt your head.�
�
“Ha, ha! Very funny. Get a little closer and maybe I’ll show you how much jujitsu I really remember. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”
“Ah-so, welcome back, missy. Now excuse, please. I work.”
Yoshi shuffled out almost as silently as he’d come in.
“Is he gone?” Tess said.
“Yes. Why?”
“We need to get to work, too.”
“I’ll get your book bag.”
“I’m not talking about homework.” She reached in her pocket and took out the iPod they’d retrieved from the Range Rover. “We need to see what’s on this.”
“Are you sure you want to do that? Instead of homework, I mean.”
Her heartbeat had just started to slow from the initial fright and exertion of her encounter with Yoshi. Now it sped up again.
“Better than thinking about having no friends.” She reached out and felt for the island, found a stool, and sat down. “You’ll have to do this for me.”
Oliver sat next to her and gently lifted the iPod from her grasp. “What am I looking for?”
“I don’t know. The most recent song? We might have to hook it up to a computer and see what files are on it.”
Tess chewed a fingernail in the ensuing silence. She forced herself to pull it out of her mouth and placed her palm flat on the counter. She concentrated on the feel of the smooth, cool stone under her hand. She could see its colors in her mind—black with streaks of hunter green and flecked with bright crystal facets beneath the surface that reflected silver or gold, depending on the light. She pressed hard, willing her fingers to tell her which colors they touched.
“That was pretty cool how you pulled one over on your uncle,” Oliver said after a moment. “You know, with the thumb drive. You sure you should have done that?”
“Look, if Uncle Travis was supposed to get whatever we’re looking for, then my dad would have sent the e-mails to him, not me. So if my dad didn’t trust him, why should I?”
“We still don’t know for sure it’s your dad. Could be someone is getting you to steal something that belonged to your dad.”
“I thought you wanted me to do this,” she said. “Besides, who else would have known about the puzzle book?”
Blind Rage Page 21
