DRAGON SECURITY: Volume 2: The Complete 6 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Let’s just get this over with.”

  In a large bookstore we found a couple of armchairs that were tucked back into the shelves away from the busier sections of the store. Rowan removed the laptop from its box and quickly set it up, connecting easily to the free Wi-Fi there in the store. I leaned forward in my chair and watched, wishing I understood everything he was doing. For all I knew he was lying to me and sending a message to someone who would do us harm. Or arranging an escape from me.

  I was suddenly afraid that I’d made a mistake by insisting on this. I reached over and touched his knee as he worked, needing to be reassured. He moved his leg, knocking my hand away.

  I sat back and watched a mother and her small child move through the stacks, blinking back tears that I neither understood nor wanted. I had to believe this was the best thing to do. We needed to free him of this danger and give him a chance at a normal life. Otherwise he would forever have to worry not only about these people trying to kill him—or whatever it was they were doing—or the cops arresting him and putting him in a federal prison for the next twenty years. Obviously, I didn’t want either of those things to happen. I wanted him free to make his own choices, free to live his life the way he wanted. Was that really asking too much?

  Why was he angry with me?

  “I’ve accessed the terminal. It looks like someone’s been poking around trying to find the passcode, but no one has accessed it.”

  “Can you see their keystrokes?”

  He nodded. “It was someone who knew what they were doing, but my security code is unbreakable without the passcode.”

  “Then whoever has the passcode still hasn’t managed to decipher it.”

  “No.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “I don’t know what it means. But it could explain why they’re still looking for me. Maybe they were trying to get into my system so that they could spy on the other terminals there at Johnson.”

  “What would they gain by doing that?”

  Rowan grunted. “They would have access to all the projects Johnson is running. They could see how far along each project is and they could steal the code that my coworkers were developing. It would be a huge coup for any number of entities like rival companies or government agencies who want control over these things or even the company itself.

  “Johnson likes to think it has strict control over everything that happens on its terminals, but they have less control than they think. The fact that I was able to design a security system like this and run it on their systems shows how little control Johnson really has.”

  “Hayden said the CIA was aware of your security system.”

  Rowan studied me over the lid of his computer. “That’s interesting. It suggests that Johnson is aware of it. And that make me wonder why they haven’t attempted to take it down. There’s nothing in the keystrokes that suggest anyone tried to take it down, just that they tried to figure out how to access it.”

  “Wouldn’t they want to take it down?”

  “Sure. They couldn’t, but they should have tried. Any reasonable company would want something like that eliminated as quickly as possible because of the fear that an outside person might have the capability of accessing it. The fact that they haven’t suggests to me that they are more interested in the information they could access with it in place.”

  “Does that mean that Johnson is behind the attacks on you?”

  “I don’t know. Either that, or the entity behind it has somehow convinced Johnson that it is in their best interest to leave it in place.”

  “What reason could they give for that?”

  Rowan studied the screen of the laptop for a moment. “Maybe someone convinced them that leaving it in place would make it easier to draw me out.”

  “What is in that security system that someone would be willing to kill to see? Or kill to not allow someone to see?”

  Rowan tilted his head slightly. “My program. Several other programs, including one that has to do with weapons.”

  “Weapons?”

  “It’s a program they were working on for the government. It’s a guidance system that is a slightly more advanced version of something they produced years ago. It’ll help the military be more efficient in targeting their large weapons.”

  It was slowly starting to make sense to me.

  “The woman in your bed, the one who was your contact with that unnamed agency? You said you did a background check on her?”

  “Yeah. She was using the name Reba Childs, but I used a face recognition software to find her real identity. She was from Ireland, part of a group that wanted to make technology free to everyone. It was this group that I was on the fringes of when I was at university, but I never actually got involved in their actions. I just went to a couple of meetings because of this girl I was dating at the time.”

  “Did she know that?”

  “When I confronted her with what I’d learned, she admitted that they knew of my affiliation with the group and that they could use it against me if I threatened to quit helping them.”

  “Is that who she was working for when she first approached you?”

  He tilted his head. “I was never completely clear on what her true motivations were. I was pretty sure she worked with an agency she mentioned on multiple occasions. But I don’t know who they were or what their true motivation was. I was wrapped up in the idea that she would make it possible for me to have the patent for my code in my own name without having to share it with Johnson.”

  He shut down the laptop and set it aside, leaning forward so that we were sitting knee to knee. He studied his hands for a long moment, clearly struggling to find the right words for whatever it was he wanted to say.

  “I came here for creative freedom. Not to change the world, not even to allow free access to any sort of technology. I came here because I wanted to change the future of robotics. I didn’t really care about the fame or the money. But when I realized how restrictive my contract with Johnson was and she offered me a way around it, I guess my ego took over. It was stupid and shortsighted on my part, but it wasn’t because of some loyalty I felt to an organization that I never really cared about.”

  He touched my knee almost hesitantly.

  “I was stupid. I should have realized what she was up to from the beginning, but I didn’t. I should have checked deeper into her, should have known her promises were too good to be true. I was greedy and this is what my greed gets me.” He sighed. “And when I got smarter about it, I still let her charm me into helping her. And she paid the price for it.”

  “I don’t know who’s behind all this, but I think she was killed to stop her from accessing the security system you set up. I think she was killed and placed in your bed to discredit you. And I think whoever was behind it wanted you to be arrested so that they would have the opportunity to use that as leverage to get you to tell them the passcode. And I think whoever shot up my condo and wrecked that bus was trying to protect you from that in some strange sort of way.”

  “It’s an odd way to protect me. All those people could have been killed.”

  “Yes, it is.” I sat back, my eyes moving to the woman and her child who were still loitering near a collection of child rearing books. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Maybe the guy with the automatic rifle is part of Reba/Rachel’s agency. Maybe he knows who’s behind her death.”

  “And maybe he can tell us what the fuck is going on.”

  There was a new light in Rowan’s eyes. It snapped as he looked up and met my eyes.

  “We’ll figure out who’s behind this,” I said, reaching out for his hand. He let me hold it, his fingers wrapping warmly around my palm. “We’ll fix this.”

  “So, I guess we have a little time before we can expect someone to show up.”

  “Yeah, I guess we do.”

  He stood up and tugged me to my feet. I followed as he made his way through the bookstore, leading me to the l
ittle corridor where the public bathrooms were hidden. He looked around for a second, then pushed me into the men’s room.

  “What are you doing?”

  His hand sliding under the bottom hem of my shirt answered my question as he continued to push me forward, stumbling a little as he pushed me into a narrow stall. He turned me to face him, his mouth capturing mine the moment we were behind the closed door, the force of his movement slamming me against the flimsy wall. I sighed, wrapping my arms around his neck, drawing him closer to me.

  “I want you,” he whispered against my mouth, his palm sliding over my ribs and up around my breast.

  I sighed as my aching nipple found a little relief in the pressure of his palm against it. I ran my fingers through his hair before slipping one hand between our bodies, pressing my fingers under the front of his pants. He groaned as my fingers brushed the top edge of his shaft. It made me ache in a way that was very physical, but in a different way, too. I’d never felt this particular sense of need before. It was soul deep, the kind of need that can only be itched by the one thing that caused it in the first place.

  His kiss was intense, his need almost overwhelming. I sighed so deeply against his lips that I felt it in my toes. I could have taken that kiss all day, could have kept up with him for as long as he wanted. But he wanted more.

  He turned me around and unsnapped my jeans, yanking them down so hard that pain burst from the hip he scraped with the heavy material. My gun fell to the ground—thank God for the safety!—forcing him to bend low and set the heavy thing on the top of the toilet dispenser.

  His fingers were seeking out that central spot that had the power to offer me more pleasure than any other nerve on my body. I felt him working himself free of his own jeans and the anticipation was almost too much to bear.

  I reached back for him as he entered me, pulling his head down close to mine so that I could steal another kiss. It was an awkward angle, but it was more than worth it. I wanted to feel close to him, wanted an intimacy that was unbreakable. He sighed against my mouth as he slowly began to roll his hips, touching me in places I wasn’t not sure I’d ever been touched before. It felt different, but just as good as before.

  He was so familiar to me now despite the fact that we’d only known each other this way a few times, despite the fact that we had only known each other a week and I was unconscious most of that time. There was just something about him, something about this connection between us.

  I didn’t want him to stop.

  I pressed my hands against the flimsy wall, pressing backward so that my hips were a solid wall against him. He moved and I stood still, letting him do what he wanted however he wanted. And it was so good! But I couldn’t … I had to move my hips a little, had to encourage him to touch those deep spaces that made my head spin and my belly tighten.

  I vaguely became aware of someone coming into the bathroom, but I was so far gone I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. I don’t think Rowan was in that place, either. He continued to move even though the wall under my hands vibrated and gave us away. I heard a snicker and then the door closed again and that somehow only made my nerves more sensitive and my body so ready to ride those waves.

  Rowan bit down on my shoulder as his movements grew faster. I leaned back into him, rotating my hips until … could anything in the world be as good as that? He cried out and our bodies shuddered together, his movements growing slightly erratic as he continued to thrust against me even as wrapped his arms around my waist and he rode the waves with me.

  Tears filled my eyes as our bodies slowly settled down to something like normal. Fear shot through me as I realized what we’d started with that damn laptop and what might be coming after us. I hoped I’d made the right choice.

  Maybe running away would have been a better choice. Maybe … maybe anything but facing reality was the answer. Anything that allowed this moment to happen again and again in the future.

  I wasn’t even sure we had a future.

  Chapter 17

  Hayden

  “They’re gone.”

  I cursed under my breath, meeting Vincent’s eyes. I shook my head and he sighed, turning away, a file folder clutched in his hand. He’d just come to me with new information he’d yet to show me when the phone rang. It was Kasey, standing in the center of Waverly’s living room in that house on the Keys. Amelia was gone.

  Again.

  “Did they leave any hint where they might have gone?”

  “Nothing. There’s no note, no ticket stubs, nothing. All we found was some medical stuff in the trash.”

  “What kind of medical stuff?”

  “Depleted IV bags. Gauze with small amounts of blood on it. An empty bottle of antibiotics.”

  I nodded even though Kasey couldn’t see me, dragging my fingers through my hair as I tried to decide how bad that meant Amelia’s injuries were. IV bags worried me. That suggested blood loss or some other large injury that couldn’t be easily treated with pills. But she’d sounded okay on the phone this morning. Strong.

  “Talk to the ferry operator. Maybe he remembers them. Check the local theft reports. They had to have changed cars at some point and found some sort of financial support. Maybe someone reported them.”

  “I will.”

  “Let me know if you get a hit.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I disconnected the phone and looked at Vincent. “Amelia’s in the wind again.”

  He inclined his head, worry creasing his forehead. “Why would she do that? Didn’t you tell her what we’d learned about him?”

  “I did, but I don’t think she believed me. Or she’s justifying it to herself.”

  “Well, she might be smarter than us.”

  Vincent opened his file and pulled out a piece of paper that he held out to me. It was the cover page to an internal memo from Johnson Robotics.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s a confession of sorts.”

  “A confession to what?”

  “That paper admits that Johnson was developing a weapon guidance system that they intended to sell to the highest bidder. When Reba Childs/Rachel O’Bannon approached McGregor, it appears to be because her organization knew about this intended sale. They wanted to stop it and they approached him because of his connection to the organization during his university days. They thought he would be sympathetic, I guess.

  “He fed them information on all the projects Johnson was handling during the past year, including this weapons system.” Vincent crossed his arms over his chest. “I think that was the reason McGregor set up the security system on his terminal, at least in part. And I think that Johnson realized what he had done recently and they wanted to get the passcode he was using to keep them out of it.”

  “His own company.”

  “They wanted to make sure he didn’t have evidence against them. And they wanted him gone. They couldn’t fire him because he was on the verge of a breakthrough that they could use to propel their company into the future—and make tons of money. But they couldn’t afford to allow him free access to their systems and this program, to gather information that could, in the future, be used against them.”

  “McGregor just put his nose where it didn’t belong.”

  “Yes.” Vincent gestured toward the paper in my hand. “That memo basically spells out their intentions to discredit him.”

  The paper I was holding basically spelled out the details of McGregor’s contract with Johnson. I wasn’t seeing what Vincent was saying.

  “They were investigating all possibilities on how to deal with him. The weapons program is mentioned, but McGregor never worked on it.”

  “So you’re deciphering this to make it say things it doesn’t actually say?”

  “No. I’m telling you that Johnson used corporate bullshit to hide their true intentions. But they’re there. I think McGregor is innocent in all this and Johnson set him up.”

  “How do we prove that?”

/>   Vincent tilted his head. “We already have Wallace on it. Her investigators have come up with some of the same things we found and they’re putting it together to take to a judge. I think we found enough to implicate Johnson in the set up. And I think the cops already have video that will prove it.”

  I shook my head, completely confused. “I thought the video showed McGregor welcoming that woman into his house.”

  “Yes, well, it turns out that there was a working camera that captured the face of the man who let that woman into the house. And it wasn’t McGregor.”

  Vincent took another paper out of his file, handing it to me. It was a still from a video camera that showed a man who was the same height and build as McGregor, wearing similar clothing to what McGregor was wearing the morning he walked into Dragon. But the face … he was definitely not McGregor.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “There’s a traffic cam just a block from McGregor’s house. I hacked the police department’s system and found this. It was taken less than a minute after the security tapes show a man getting into O’Bannon’s car and driving away from McGregor’s house.”

  “Then we have him.”

  “I’ve emailed this to the lead detective and informed him of the memo. Wallace suggested that the cops should get phone records from the CEO of Johnson. She believes he made calls to that man from his office phone.”

  “How does she know that?”

  Vincent shrugged. “We’re not the only ones who skate the edge of legality when investigating on behalf of our clients.”

  I nodded. “So Johnson set McGregor up for the murder of Rachel O’Bannon. But who shot up Amelia’s house?”

  Vincent pulled another paper out of his file. This one was another picture of a man about McGregor’s age and height. He was a ginger with a face covered in freckles, a cheerful looking guy who was smiling brightly into whatever camera had taken the picture.