by Desiree Holt
“Just left.”
“Did they—” She stopped and tried again. “Are you…”
Are you in trouble? Are they hassling you?
She couldn’t seem to get the words out.
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “They searched every corner, believe me, but they found nothing. I made sure to clean up every trace of you being here after you left with Dean.”
“But they definitely want me, right?” Nausea clawed at her again. She wished Zak was here to wrap his arms around her and chase away the nightmare.
“The important thing is they don’t have you. And they won’t. Listen. I have a lot to do right now, but you’re safe where you are, and Keith’s with you. I’ll check in with you during the day. You’ve got the security code, right?”
“Yes.” A tiny chuckle escaped her lips. “Very cute.”
“I wanted something you’d remember. Listen, I had Keith pick up a laptop on his way to the house. Set it up however you need to in order to get to work. Keith will give you the password to the Internet so you can access your cloud files.”
“Good.” She was silent a moment, chastising herself for what she wanted to ask him. “Will—will I see you soon?”
“Yes.” His voice softened. “I’m bringing dinner tonight. And a laptop for you, so you can do some homework. Try not to freak out too much, okay?”
“I’m good,” she lied. “Call when you can.”
The moment she snapped the phone shut, she felt disconnected from more than the call. She was alone in a strange house, in the worst trouble of her life, and only sheer determination was keeping the panic at bay.
I trust Zak. That’s why I went to him in the first place.
She kept repeating that to herself as she went to unpack the few things Zak had bought for her, wondering if she’d ever get her life back. Finally, she set up the laptop, used the password Keith had given her to log onto the Internet, and went to work on the Lombardo Simulations network. She might have brought this mess on herself, but she was damn well going to help clean it up. Starting right now.
Chapter Six
At eight o’clock, when Zak was sure his favorite techie would be at the office, he called Guardian and asked for Nina Colbert. Nina had magic fingers and an incredible ability to break any firewall ever erected. He wanted to know what was on the Dunning International computers, and she was the person who could find out.
“So you’re saying you want me to hack into the computers of one of the biggest international conglomerates?” she teased.
Zak chuckled. “Did I say the word hack?” Then he sobered. “Nina, this is more important than I can possibly tell you. Run it past Reno if you’d feel more comfortable—”
“Hey!” she interrupted. “I worked for you before you hooked up with Guardian. You want me to do this? I’m on it.”
“I don’t need to tell you I need this yesterday, right?”
“As if that’s new.” Now it was her turn to laugh. “Okay. I’ll get the usual suspects to work with me.”
After he hung up, he thought about showering and changing, but a phone call from his contact delayed that activity. The very brief conversation alerted Zak that the cops were reaching out to every possible place in their hunt for Zoe Lombardo.
“Forget about that so-called two year hiatus,” his contact said. “The cops aren’t buying the idea that the two of you are colder than Alaska. Your name is on their list of possible contacts, so you can expect visitors again this morning.”
“Surely they have other places to look,” Zak said.
“Not a lot. They’ll be after you any minute, looking for her, asking questions.”
“With a search warrant?” Zak asked out of curiosity.
“You know they can’t get their search warrants until she’s officially charged,” the man said, “but they want to take a look and maybe catch the two of you off guard.”
“They certainly are in a rush,” Zak commented.
“People like Nate Dunning,” his contact reminded him, “don’t get killed without a full court press being generated. They could even call in the Texas Rangers. They’re supposed to be the murder experts.”
Thank god I moved Zoe before the sun was up.
Deciding it would be better to stay home and wait for them rather than be confronted at his office, he called Carol Joslyn, his secretary, to tell her he’d be late.
“Is Reno in yet?” he asked.
“I’ll check and see.”
In a minute, the familiar gravelly voice came over the phone. “How are we doing? How are you doing?”
“I got a heads up that the cops are going to pay me another informal visit, hoping I’m hiding Zoe in the closet.”
“You got everything taken care of, though, right?”
“Yes,” Zak assured him. “Made the handoff as arranged, and she’s safe and secure.”
“Good. We’re still trying to trace those names you gave us. I’m even working on it myself.” Reno made a noise of disgust. “So far all we’ve found is that someone was very determined to wipe out all leads to whoever these people are.”
“I called Nina and asked her to see if she could peek into Dunning International’s computers, hoping we can find something there. I guess I should have checked with you on that first.”
“What for? I’d be telling her the same thing in your position.
“Listen,” Zak said. “I really appreciate Guardian standing behind me on this. And you spending your own time on it. I’ll cover all the out of pocket expenses myself, and—”
“Stop.” Reno cut him off in midsentence. “You’d do the same for Nick and me. We may have grown a lot here, but we’re all still family. Guardian will absorb whatever costs there are. Zoe Lombardo’s safety is the most important thing right now.” He paused. “As well as yours.”
“I hear you.” Zak was aware he could also become a target if the killers thought he could lead them to wherever Zoe was or had information they wanted. “And Reno? Thanks.”
After disconnecting the call, he opened his laptop in his den, booted it up again, and set some innocuous files on the desk next to it. Then he went through the house wiping down every surface Zoe could possibly have touched. Again. If traces of her perfume lingered in the house, well, he could just hint that he’d had a “friend” spending the night.
Seeing Zoe again had been such a shock, but it hadn’t taken long before he felt the old chemistry charging the air. He’d had a hard time not throwing her down on his bed and running his hand through the silk of her hair. He wanted to trace the familiar curves of her body with his fingers, feel and taste her essence again. Bury himself in her liquid heat.
That kiss they’d exchanged had carried an electrical charge he still felt. Holding her while she sobbed out her desperation had made him harder than a spike, a condition his cock didn’t seem to want to relinquish. Even in the middle of danger, he wanted her naked in bed with him. But more than that, he wanted the emotion they’d shared.
Listening to Zoe when he’d called, Zak had sensed the fear in her voice, as well as the determination not to give into it. He’d always admired her grit. He hoped it would keep her from falling apart. Tonight, when they talked, he needed her to focus, because he had some specific questions for her to answer. He planned to rip apart her relationship with Nate Dunning and expose all the flaws. And he didn’t want her to freak out on him.
He had just finished sanitizing the den when his business cell lying on the desk chirped at him.
“It’s me,” Nina said. “Call me back on a clean phone.”
He pulled the one out of his pocket he’d used to call Zoe and dialed her number.
She picked up at once. “Zak?”
“What’s up? I was just about to call you and get a progress report.”
“You’re in luck, then, because I actually have one for you. We’re into Dunning International’s mainframe. Don’t ask, don’t tell, right?” she added
when he started to say something. “You said to do what we had to, so we did. Don’t worry. We won’t leave any cyber-fingerprints.”
Nina, who looked like an air-headed angel with her slight frame, long blonde hair, and blue eyes, had run the Information Technology Department for Delaney Security that Zak believed was second to none. When he merged with Guardian, he’d brought the whole crew with him.
Her techies could do anything she asked of them. And most importantly, knowing the lapses in other corporate security programs, she’d built so many shields for Delany Security that not even the best hacker could get in.
Designing security systems for computers was one of the options Guardian Security offered, and with the addition of Nina, their IT department had mushroomed beyond anyone’s expectations. Her expertise had landed them several fat contracts, both government and corporate, in an area that had begun strictly as an in-house department.
“Be very, very careful there,” he warned. “And stay away from Lombardo Simulations for the moment. There’s trouble there and Zoe’s working on it. I will let you know if she needs help.”
“The cops are gonna be royally ticked off if they can’t get anything from the LS system,” she said.
“Not any more than Zoe already is.” He sighed wearily. “Okay. Put together what you’ve got. How’s Jay doing with the list of names I sent him? Any luck with anything there? Or locating the name of the valet parking company? And has he had a chance to run profiles on Dunning’s business associates? The ones he has the most contact with?”
Jay Browning was another computer expert, only of a different kind. If you wanted to know anything about anyone’s business operation, their associates and competitors, Jay could find out without making a ripple on the surface of the business world or in cyberspace.
Zak had meant what he’d told Zoe about the possibility of money laundering. It was the first thing that popped into Zak’s brain when she told him what she and Nate had been arguing about recently. That made it even more imperative to find out about Dunning’s business contacts and to take a hard look at the companies that made up Dunning International.
He hoped that between Nina and Jay they’d find the answer. Then he’d know which way to jump. The last thing he wanted was for the police to get a hint of it first and convince themselves that Zoe was a willing partner and she’d killed Nate over division of the spoils.
“He’s on it,” Nina assured him. “And Reno called down to say he was working on things from his end. I think he and Jay are coordinating on this. So far no news there, though.”
“Okay. So what did you get from Dunning International?”
“More than I bargained for,” she answered. “I’m putting everything together to email to you.”
“No, don’t do that. Take a laptop out of stock, format it, and encrypt it with my personal code, then copy whatever you got from DI to the hard drive. I want to go over it with Zoe tonight.”
“Tonight, huh?”
He caught the teasing note in her voice.
“Business, Nina. Zoe and I were finished a couple of years ago on a personal level.” Liar!
“Whatever you say. Okay, I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you later and swing by to pick it up. Right now, I’ve got some people to see myself.”
He opened his safe and removed the gun he’d taken from Zoe. Then he sat at his kitchen counter drinking another in the endless cups of coffee and examined the gun thoroughly. It was a South American-manufactured Taurus, a handgun with which he was very familiar. Comparatively inexpensive. Lightweight. Small. Specially designed grips. Easy to carry, easy to use. It nestled snugly in his hand and could easily be carried in a woman’s purse without being noticed.
And so common it would be almost impossible to pin down.
Of course, the serial number had been filed off. No big surprise.
But he’d learned in the course of his business that different types of people had a tendency to favor certain kinds of weapons, even those with common use like the Taurus. Digging up that information could be difficult, but he knew just the person who could help him out.
Pulling the clean phone from his pocket, he dialed a number he knew from memory.
“What?” The voice that answered sounded like steel rolling over concrete.
“I see you’re still your usual charming self,” Zak said.
“Charm is my middle name,” Rick Boston said. “By the way, I hear your former lover is on the hot seat with the cops. They looking at you yet?”
“Looked and left. Listen. I need to pick your brain.”
“I think it’s already been picked too much.” He punctuated his tired joke with a hoarse laugh. “What do you need?”
“Not over the phone,” Zak told him. “We need to meet somewhere.”
“You know the rules. No place too public.
“Okay.” Zak shifted the phone to his other ear. “Name the place.”
“Remember the dive where we used to meet for breakfast?”
“Yeah, how could I forget? I was always afraid the guy would poison us.”
Boston laughed again. “You just have no taste for common food, my friend. All right. See you in an hour. Appropriate dress. Oh, and don’t bring any company.”
In other words, blend in with the clientele and lose any tails.
“See you then.”
Zak made one more call before he headed for the shower.
Forty-five minutes, later he parked in his usual spot at the building where Guardian Security had its headquarters and rode the elevator up to his office.
“I’ll be locked up in here for a while, and I’m hanging out a Do Not Disturb sign,” he told his secretary. “No calls. No visitors.”
“You have messages,” she told him, handing him a pile of pink slips.
He shuffled through them, glancing at each one, took two off the top and gave her back the rest. “I’ll handle these. Call everyone else; see if you can help them. If not, tell them they’ll hear from me by this afternoon.”
“No problem.” Carol had been with him since he started Delaney Security and it was just the two of them. She was used to him by this time and seldom asked questions. He was daily more and more grateful for her.
Inside his office, he shed his jacket and shirt, pulled on a western shirt, and took a straw Stetson from the clothes he kept at work for occasions like this one. His shoes were replaced with a pair of well-worn boots.
Finally, he pulled a set of keys from a drawer in his desk. They were duplicates of sets his partners had.
Using the back entrance to his office, he took the stairs down to the garage rather than the elevator. He scanned the parking area where Guardian kept its company vehicles. Nothing was out at the moment, so he made his choice and moments later drove out of the underground garage in an anonymous-looking gray truck.
He took the Interstate to downtown San Antonio and spent a few minutes cruising the busy streets, carefully watching in both his rearview and side mirrors. He punched the button to turn on the radio and found a station with the local news. The big story, of course, was Nate Dunning’s murder and the fact that his partner in Lombardo Simulations, CEO Zoraya Lombardo, was being sought as the prime suspect. Along with that was the story of the destruction of Zoe’s house.
“Police are speculating that Miss Lombardo arranged for the explosion that caused the fire,” the reporter added. “They believe it was set to destroy any evidence she had at home regarding her activities with Dunning, anything that could provide a motive for the murder.”
Zak turned off the radio in disgust. That theory was farfetched even for the police, but he could imagine they were getting pressure on this case from everywhere. And the press would be in a feeding frenzy. They liked nothing better than a murder that involved a leader in the international business community, billions of dollars, and a suspect that was both beautiful and smart.
Damn it to hell, anyway
. He had to get her out of this.
Back on the Interstate, he exited and re-entered a couple of times, once even changing direction. By the time he reached his meeting place, he was positive no one had followed him.
The restaurant, a combination diner and bar open twenty-four hours, was located on the east side of San Antonio, not far from where the annual rodeo was held. Because of its proximity, it was a regular hangout for riders, livestock haulers, and general hangers on. In his well-worn clothes, Zak fit right in with the crowd. No one would spot him here; he was sure.
Rick Boston sat in the same booth in the back corner where they’d met many times. Very few people knew this was only one of many such places Boston owned. It provided him locations to conduct his business, whatever that business happened to be at the moment, without exposing himself to curious eyes.
As Zak slid onto the seat, a heavy-set unsmiling waitress appeared next to them. Dressed in jeans and a denim shirt about two sizes too small for her, she slapped a mug on the table in front of him, filled it from the pot in her hand, and walked away.
“You have her well trained,” Zak told Boston.
“My sister,” he said. “She runs the place for me. No one trains her, not even her husband, the good-for-nothing. What can I do for you, my friend?”
Zak stirred sugar he didn’t want into his coffee, organizing his thoughts.
“Like I said on the phone, I know your old girlfriend’s in trouble,” Boston told him. “So if this is about her, let’s have it.”
Zak sighed and dropped the spoon on the table. “You know more about guns than anyone else I know.”
“Guns? This is about guns?” Boston looked at him, curiosity lighting his eyes. “You want to buy guns from me? Why? You’re legit. You can even order them online if you want.”
“No, no, no.” Zak shook his head. “I’m not in the market. Except for some information.”
Boston held up a hand. “I can’t talk about my customers.”
“I know. I’m not asking for names, just generalities. I need to know who favors a small Taurus these days. Forty caliber.” He described gun Zoe had taken from the murder scene.
