“So when someone wants to book with us, I try to make sure it’s the best fit. For instance, that man, Mr. Frazer, didn’t want to tell me yet what kind of event he’s thinking of booking. Not unusual when someone doesn’t want a sales pitch, but on the other hand, I won’t even take him seriously until I know.” He shrugged. “It’s actually kind of odd. We’re the premier conference location in the city.” He flushed and gave her a side grin. “Didn’t mean to brag. But most people do try to win me over instead of the other way around. We get booked up far in advance.”
He spoke faster than usual, and some color was returning to his face.
“The event room will be to your right,” the elevator operator said.
The doors opened, and Matt practically shot out of the confined space. Poor guy. He made a beeline for the spread of hors d’oeuvres but skipped the food and instead took a giant cup of lemonade and gulped it down. “Hot in here, isn’t it?” He loosened his necktie a bit and smiled. “Much better.”
Sandra Parveen, the organizing committee chair, grabbed her arm. Her hair looked stiff, likely from too much hair spray. Though it probably looked better than Isabelle’s frizzing waves.
“Oh, Isabelle,” Sandra said. “Hank called me last night. Are you okay?”
She looked to Matt and tried to process what Sandra could be talking about. Had Hank called Sandra to inform her about all the attempts to steal the research?
“Getting hacked,” Sandra said, this time softer. The fear of hacking was a very real threat in the world of research. Just a month prior, West Coast Ocean Institute was hacked and their proprietary research made public.
Isabelle forced a smile. “Didn’t Hank tell you my swarm research wasn’t touched?”
“Oh, yes, but it has to make you nervous. You know we have Blake, an IT guy on the conference organizing committee, here, as well. If you need any extra security measures, I’m sure he’d be glad to help. Do you want me to call him over?”
“Thank you. I feel confident it’s secure right now, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Sure thing. There’s been a lot of buzz about your little swarm theory research.” She held up her fist and gave it a shake. “Can’t disappoint the people.”
“Miss Barrows.” A deep Southern voice behind her prompted her to turn around. Darren Allen stood behind her. He’d changed into a white crisp shirt, a suit jacket and a turquoise bolo tie. “Darling,” he drawled. “I’ve heard that you’ve had a bad experience with our fair city.”
Isabelle felt her eyebrows rise. How would he know? She glanced over her shoulder to see if Matt was listening, but Sandra had accosted him and was peppering him with questions. “Where did you hear that?”
Darren whirled his hand around in the air. “Somebody here saw you with the police last night at the River Walk. If I had known you would be walking unaccompanied, I would’ve offered myself, hon.”
The use of the endearments was beginning to grate on her nerves. “I wasn’t unaccompanied. I’m fine.”
He stepped so close she could smell some sort of strong cocktail on his breath. “You’re in the big leagues now, kiddo. Some friendly advice—don’t trust anyone.” He lifted his chin so he looked down his nose at her. “The buzz is you’ve got some research that could prove to be very lucrative.” He patted his chest. “Keep it close.”
“You’re not giving him insider information, are you?” Robert Struther stepped into their little circle. “I thought you promised me dibs.”
It could’ve been her imagination, but she thought she saw Darren’s eyes flash with anger. He straightened to his full height and nodded. “Think I’ll get myself some appetizers. Remember what I said now, Miss Barrows.” He winked and walked away.
Robert rolled his eyes. “If there were an award for least likely to be at an oceanology conference...”
“I know, right? But I don’t fault him for wanting to expand,” Isabelle gushed a little. To be treated like a peer by the famous Robert Struther was almost enough to send her giggling. She cleared her throat. “I’ll be excited to see what Endangered Robotics does in pursuit of the ocean’s health.”
He shrugged. “Listen, I wasn’t kidding earlier. Would you like to talk shop? How about right after this shindig?”
Robotic Aquatic would be the perfect company to fund their endeavors, and while Struther had been promoted to VP, he had been a lead researcher until recently. If anyone could see the potential in what she had to offer, he would. And the opportunity had practically fallen in her lap.
“Um, yes.” She waved a hand at Matt behind her, who looked almost as pale as he had on the elevator. Sandra didn’t seem to want to move on from talking to him. “I just need to check with my—” she didn’t want to call him a “date” “—friend.”
“I don’t mind if he comes with. We won’t take long. If I’m interested, we’ll arrange a follow-up meeting. How about we meet at Cartographers after this? It’s the revolving restaurant up a few more floors. We can talk over a cup of coffee.” He looked over her head. “I imagine it’ll be considerably more quiet there.”
She nodded, and Struther walked away before they could settle on a time. She turned to hear Matt.
“Yes, well, I’d be glad to give you a tour to consider our facilities for your next conference.”
“You do that.” Sandra winked at Matt and smiled at Isabelle. “Excuse me. I need to make sure the caterers will serve dinner on time.”
Matt exhaled as she walked away. “That was odd.”
“What’s sad is she’s probably the most normal person in this room, aside from you.”
He laughed aloud. “How’s that?”
“I think her background is in public relations. The rest of us are obsessed with all things ocean and science.”
Matt handed her a fresh glass of lemonade. “Speaking of everyone else, it might be a good idea to start asking yourself who could benefit from stealing your research.”
Her throat tightened at his omission. They weren’t just trying to steal her research. Thus far they seemed prepared to hurt...or kill her, as well. She really didn’t want the reminder on such an important night. “It’s hard to say. I can see multiple possible applications to my findings. The things that excite me most would be used for nonprofit.” She worried her lip. “I don’t want to be so prideful to assume it’ll be the next big thing in defense, but if it fell in the wrong hands, there is a possibility it could compromise some of the work the US Navy is doing. In the right hands, it could replace older methods of surveillance.”
“Didn’t you say some of these companies here have multimillion-dollar contracts with the government performing those older methods?”
“Yes, but I’m inviting them to invest in the research from the ground up. If it turns out it’s valuable, they would make a huge profit. So, I don’t think that would make me a threat.” As she said it, she questioned her logic. Would the companies see it that way? Or would her research make something more profitable obsolete?
Even as the thought formed, she remembered all the times she’d seen the water’s smooth surface conceal turmoil and undertow below. Maybe the companies at the conference were hiding something. Was the plan to get investors naive?
“Isabelle? What is it?”
“Nothing.” The ability to think out of the box proved helpful in research but gave her anxiety in other areas of life. Bottom line: it was pointless to worry about it when her research was nothing but an algorithm.
She told Matt about the upcoming meeting with Robert Struther.
“I’m glad he invited me along.” He looked into her eyes. “Given the attacks, you have no way to know if he’s trustworthy. I wouldn’t want you to meet with him alone.”
Despite the air-conditioning, warmth flooded her cheeks. Did he say that because he was worried about her o
r because he was jealous of Robert Struther? Scarier still, she didn’t know which scenario pleased her more.
* * *
Matt did his best to smile and stay awake throughout the almost two hours of announcements, news, awards and talking points. The white folding chair creaked at his every move. He would definitely need that coffee Isabelle mentioned for her appointment with Struther.
And Matt wanted to be alert, as well. While Isabelle seemed to be of the notion that everyone in the conference was in the same boat as she was, he didn’t buy it. She was an out-of-the-box thinker who didn’t see herself for what she really was—a genius.
Sandra Parveen stepped up to the podium and dismissed them for the evening. He stood up fast, quickly taking in the view from the wall-to-wall windows on the other side of the room. He averted his gaze, though it was easier looking through them from this vantage point. It didn’t feel like he was staring straight down, like he did from the elevator. And for some reason it was easier at night, maybe because he couldn’t correctly gauge the distance from here to the sidewalks and streets below.
Unlike him, Isabelle seemed anything but bored. Her face flushed with excitement. Once she reached her goal of getting funding for the research project, would that mean the danger would stop? He assumed she’d have to share the research with the investor, and at that point it’d be less valuable to whoever was trying to steal it. At least, that was his hope.
He glanced at his watch. “When’s your meeting?”
“I think now.”
Matt matched her stride as she walked up to Struther, who was in midsentence with Darren Allen. The older man made his skin crawl. Maybe the sweet-talking Darren had good intentions—he did run a nonprofit, after all—but he made Matt feel like he was a crooked car salesman trying to sell Isabelle a junky car.
Struther turned to her before they’d reached him. “Isabelle,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you. Go ahead and get us a table, will you?” He didn’t wait for Isabelle to answer before he was arguing about what sounded like a math equation with Darren.
Isabelle nodded and offered Matt a smile. “You still up for this? We have to get back in the elevator and go higher.”
So she’d noticed his fear. And he’d thought he’d been so smooth in covering it up.
“The construction days,” Isabelle offered, as if she could read his thoughts. “I assumed it was still an issue, which makes the fact that you came with me all the more special. Although you seem to have managed well.”
She remembered. The back of his neck tingled with an odd, unsettling feeling. They’d been apart for years and yet she still knew his innermost wounds and secrets. The last summer before she’d moved, Dad had hired her to work for him as a secretary of sorts. She basically followed Dad around with a clipboard. She’d looked cute in a hard hat. But that wasn’t what he recalled most.
It was the look on her face when he’d decided to ignore his well-developed fear of heights, mainly because Isabelle was there. Usually he would’ve made sure to get a ground-level job. Instead he offered to work up high, and Isabelle had witnessed the paralysis grab him. His brothers and one of the foremen had to pull him off the beam. It was the most humiliating experience of his life, followed by the realization that he couldn’t follow the path his dad had set in front of him. He’d never be able to take over the family business.
“Don’t worry about me.” Matt placed a hand between Isabelle’s shoulders and led her gently to the elevator. “The only thing I need is some coffee to wake up.”
She laughed. There were two elevators and two operators. One already looked full. “Will we be able to go up to Cartographers?” she asked.
Just before the door closed, the operator with the full elevator shook his head no. “We’re only going down tonight, ma’am.”
“Not true,” the other man said after the other elevator’s doors closed. “I will take you up.”
“Are you sure?” Isabelle asked. “We’re not the only ones that need to go up. I want to make sure he can.” She pointed over her shoulder at Struther, who was still engaged in conversation behind them.
“It’s not a problem.” He ushered them in but waved the others back without explanation.
Matt shrugged apologetically at the crowd. “Maybe that means they’re done taking orders for the night.”
“It will be open for you,” the operator answered.
The way he phrased it was odd. Isabelle didn’t seem to think anything of it by the smile on her face. She turned to face the view while Matt maintained his stare at the elevator operator. The guy hadn’t even tucked in his white polo. Wait. Was there a lump near the back of his waistband?
The man turned sideways as the elevator opened to a sign that read Cartographers Restaurant.
“Thank you,” Isabelle said. She stepped out into the lobby area ahead of Matt. He rushed to join her.
As they rounded the corner to the bar area, they were met with a freestanding sign.
“Closed.”
His spine straightened. The elevator operator should’ve known it was closed, unless...
Matt spun around to find him with a sick grin on his face.
“I guess I’ll be your host for the evening,” he said. He pointed a gun at Isabelle. “Party of two?”
Matt stepped in front of Isabelle and spread his arms wide as he pressed her backward. “Put the gun down. I’m sure we can come to an agreement without you needing that.” He kept taking steps back, trying to move Isabelle as far away from the gunman as possible.
Her hands gripped the back of his suit jacket. She gasped. “It was a trap.” Her forehead brushed against the center of his back. She whispered prayers underneath her ragged gasps for breath. “...please, Lord, please.”
The operator’s expression remained impassive. He didn’t flinch or try to warn them as they backed away, which worried Matt even more.
Matt’s heel brushed against a bar stool, and he realized he’d pressed Isabelle in between two stools and the bar counter. The farther away he got them from the gun, the better he felt, but unless they could run across the room to the restaurant portion, they were at the end of the line.
“Where is the research?” the man asked.
Matt narrowed his eyes. “You want the laptop? She doesn’t have it.”
The operator smirked. “Turns out I have time. Where is it?”
Isabelle peeked her head over Matt’s shoulder. “Hotel safe.”
Matt breathed a little easier. If the operator tried to lead them to the hotel to get the laptop, they would be on Matt’s turf. Surely he’d be able to get them to safety and outwit the guy. And Isabelle hadn’t specified that she’d left the laptop in her room safe, not the general hotel safe.
The man pulled a phone from his pocket. With his left hand, he pressed a button and spoke. “The hotel. Yes.” The operator narrowed his eyes at Matt. “Behind the reservation counter?”
“Security office,” Matt said. It wasn’t true, but he hoped the Lord would forgive him for the misdirection.
“Yeah, I think we’ll check the reservation counter first, thanks.” The operator rolled his eyes and spoke back into the phone. “Call me back when you have it. Yeah, I’ll wait.”
“You’ll let us go, then?” Isabelle asked.
The man looked over their heads. “Yeah, I’ll let you go.” The nonchalant way he said it and the manner in which the man squeezed his gun tighter told Matt the only place they’d be going was to their graves.
SIX
Isabelle’s heart pounded so hard she was sure Matt could feel it. His body shielded most of her, but she could still read the gunman’s body language. They wouldn’t be leaving this room alive. Maybe she could throw him off his game. What would her dad do? The answer came immediately. Diversion tacti
cs.
“Aren’t you worried someone will show up on the elevator behind you?” she asked.
The man’s gaze remained on her. He pulled out a set of keys and shook it. “Don’t worry about that, darling. My elevator isn’t going anywhere.”
So even if they managed to get past him, they wouldn’t be able to utilize the elevator. And the other operator had made it clear he was only taking people down. But maybe if the attendees got curious about where the other elevator operator was going, they would call someone...
The man followed her gaze and smirked. “The other elevator isn’t even scheduled to be operating tonight. So you might as well make yourself comfortable.”
She felt the muscles in Matt’s back tighten up at the cocky manner of the gunman. If she ever got her hands on Struther... Why would he set her up, though? His company had plenty of funds. Was he really that greedy? It wasn’t as if she had a prototype ready to unleash in the seas. It was research. Could it really be that valuable?
Isabelle acted as if she were trying to get situated on one of the stools. Since Matt was in front of her, she hoped the man couldn’t see she was actually peeking at what was on the counter behind her. Nothing.
Past the countertop was another story. A quick glance gave her a rough inventory: a metal drink shaker, bowls, long spoons, knives, a napkin holder and a couple of soda guns. If she stretched, she could reach any of it. But the man was too far away for it to do any good.
Besides, he had a gun. In a spoon versus gun battle, a gun always won.
But what if she could get him to come closer? He was the one who said they might as well relax while they waited for his partner to get her laptop. If she could get him to drop his guard, that might give them the edge. There was only one way she could think of to relax him. Bore him to death.
“So I assume you already know what hotel I was staying in?”
The man ignored her and looked back out at the skyline. Good. If she was an expert knife-thrower—sadly, her dad hadn’t trained her for that—it could’ve been a window to go on offense. She just needed a longer opportunity. He was lowering his defenses. If only someone in the planes far above could see what was happening in the restaurant.
Texas Takedown Page 6
