Now Caleb slid the binoculars into a pocket of his cargo pants while debating between explaining first or simply taking her and dealing with her fallout later.
When he saw her move toward the back door with a watering can in hand, phone cradled against her ear, he figured now worked better than later.
Dressed in black, he moved silently around the house toward the back and struck pay dirt with the complete privacy of her enclosed backyard.
It was time to get some answers.
———
Your card has been declined.” The robotic message echoed in Vivi’s ear and she spoke back, trying not to spill her water as she walked.
“Not possible. Stupid, stupid computer.” She hung up, aware of the ultimate irony, since she was surrounded by open, lit laptops, which appeared to be mocking her.
“I wasn’t talking about you guys,” she said, as if to appease the fickle beasts, hoping to mollify their tricky motherboards into submission.
She’d deal with the credit card mishap later, because she’d paid that bill—the minimum anyway. She had more important things to do, most especially dealing with the software her father had been working on for InLine Energy. If she couldn’t produce a working program, they’d demand their money … and she didn’t have it to give them. She’d lose the house for sure.
And, judging by her lack of progress over the past months, it looked like that might happen sooner than later.
She’d begun to split her attention so she could finish up the code for the new software prototype she was designing with the Army in mind, a hybrid of her ideas and her father’s, taken from memory, because in the end, he’d been so paranoid he’d refused to put anything in writing.
The contract should come through any day now, the lawyer representing her side of the deal had promised. It was hard for a civilian to break in, but her lawyer had some pull, knew a general who knew another general who’d downloaded a sample of her newest security system and had thankfully been impressed.
Her father’s notoriety—and now hers—certainly hadn’t hurt, as the FBI had been quietly trying to recruit her into their cyber crimes division. Truth was, if she was to continue to create this type of software, she needed security. But when the offer had been extended last year and then again two months ago, she hadn’t been ready to think about working for the FBI.
God, her father must be rolling in his grave at the mere thought of his kid even considering working for the government after his experience with them. And even though she never bought into his conspiracy theories, jumping into working for Big Brother didn’t sit comfortably with her.
She threw the phone down on the couch. It missed, fell to the floor and the back and the battery fell out, and no, exercise hadn’t helped her shitty mood one bit.
She opened the sliding glass door and stepped outside, stomped around the back deck, pouring water over the stupid, stupid plants that mocked her by dying every single year.
Normally, it didn’t bother her that much. It had been the family joke when she was growing up—Vivi kills living things.
Yeah, ha-ha.
This spring, however, making sure these damned things lived meant something.
She almost added, if it killed her, but couldn’t stand the irony. “Live, dammit,” she muttered as she poured water onto the still green plants she’d bought last week, a yearly ritual that Vivi re-created in hopes that she could change her luck.
Didn’t matter that she could program software better than any Ivy League–educated man or woman in the country. The fact that she could kill a cactus was what would end up on her gravestone.
At the thought of gravestones, a chill shot up her spine and she instantly chided herself for her silly superstitions. Step on a crack, break your mother’s back, black cats in her path and Friday the thirteenth were things she took seriously. It didn’t make sense in her otherwise logic-filled, live-by-the-numbers life, but she’d had them for as long as she could remember.
She shivered again, feeling the sensation she’d had earlier of being watched. She finished watering and then, thoroughly spooked, turned to walk back into the house, when a hand clamped firmly over her mouth. An arm wound around her midsection, pinning her arms to her sides, and the watering can clattered to the wooden deck.
The hold left her legs free to kick. Which she did, but barely made contact before she was tilted on her side, suspended in the air and carried away along the side of her house, down her driveway and into the backseat of a waiting SUV.
It took off as soon as the door shut. At that point, the grip eased—she jerked away from her captor, stunned and scared, heart pounding.
She expected to see a gun pointed in her direction. Instead, she found herself looking into the calm face of a handsome man dressed all in black.
He was all dark hair, with even darker eyes. Piercing eyes, like finely polished stones, but somehow not cold. And he was broad—so very broad and ripped.
So very military.
Had she breached something? Sometimes, during development and testing and implementation, her father would accidentally go too far. Given his government background, she’d been privy to the soldier-at-the-door scenario happening in varying forms. CIA or FBI agents. The police. But it had always ended easily, peacefully.
Her father had never been taken from their home in secrecy.
She opened her mouth to speak, to yell, to do something, but the man held up his hand. “Vivienne, we’ll explain everything shortly. You will not be harmed. This is for your immediate safety.”
Then again, the times she’d been escorted out of her home in the past, the men had always identified themselves immediately. Not like this.
These men could be the ones who’d stolen the program.
She wanted to yell. Kick, scream, throw herself out of the car, which wouldn’t happen, with two men on either side of her. There was nothing stopping her from leaping into the front seat and trying to disable the driver, though.
Never let yourself be brought to a secondary location. Do whatever you need to stop that from happening.
Maybe her self-defense classes had actually paid off.
Without waiting, she lunged over the seat and grabbed for the driver’s head. The car swerved, the driver cursed a blue streak and hands like iron grabbed her.
In seconds, she was back in her seat and handcuffed to the man next to her, the car was on the correct side of the road and all three men were deadly silent.
The man she was handcuffed to was the one who’d taken her from her house. He’d handcuffed his wrist closest to the door to hers so she was basically leaning across him, unable to do anything but attempt to balance as the car took a sharp turn.
“That was really stupid,” he muttered.
“Who are you people?” she demanded, because really, she had nothing to lose at this point. “Where are you taking me?”
No answer.
She attempted to shift and his hand went to the back of her neck, touching a pressure point that left her unable to do anything. She felt dizzy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, and then she was vaguely aware of her head falling forward into the man’s lap as her eyes shut in induced sleep.
Olivia’s neighbor agreed to the deal. The old truck was worth far less than they paid but there was no getting around that.
She’d also had to pay so the woman would never tell who she sold the car to. Par for the course. Money meant nothing to Olivia now, and it meant everything here.
Now the truck jolted along the road, the muffler loud. At some point, they’d have to abandon it, but right now, it was their BFF.
They went at least an hour in complete silence. Everything had moved so quickly tonight and yet it had seemed to span days upon days, as if it all happened in slow motion.
And she was on the run yet again.
You never stopped.
“Thanks for everything back there,” she said finally.
Zane’s only response was a nod, and y
es, she knew she owed him more. But for now, it was enough.
“You seem to know this place pretty well.”
“We’re about to find out,” he muttered, and they both winced as he hit a particularly nasty hole in the road. She shifted and held on to the bar over the window so she wouldn’t hit her head on the roof again, as he asked, “How long have you been here?”
“A few weeks.”
“Before that?”
“Does it matter?”
“They’re tracking you—the places you’ve been are probably being heavily watched. So cut the tough girl crap and tell me.”
It came out harsher than he’d intended but that rendered it more effective. Liv told him where she’d been hiding and for how long, and he traced her footsteps in a mental map.
She’d covered a lot of ground—whether DMH had been following her the entire time or only relying on local intel regarding her attempts to dig in and stay in one place, it confirmed what he’d suspected.
They were screwed. Getting her out fast would be difficult. Slowing down could prove deadly.
But most of all, he needed Liv’s cooperation, no matter how pissed at him she got.
“You did good back there,” he said. She didn’t answer, and he accepted the stony silence. “Skylar says you’re an excellent doctor,” he continued. “She said you saved her life.”
“Is she in good health?”
“Yeah, she’s doing great. About to get married.”
“To who?”
“The man who rescued her from DMH,” he said, felt her eyes boring into him. He refused to take his off the road.
“Good for her,” she muttered. “I hope you’re not expecting me to be swept off my feet by you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Yeah, the bonding moment around the birth of the baby was most definitely over.
They rode for another long while in silence.
Finally, he found what he was looking for—an old shed where he could hide the truck. It was about a mile away from the house he’d scouted coming in as a just-in-case hideaway if they were forced to backtrack, but this was as far as the old girl would take them. She’d overheated half a mile back and he’d rather be able to park her in a hidden spot so tracking them wouldn’t be easy.
He got out and opened the doors to the shed, then walked around to her side and opened the door. “Might as well get out here, rather than in there.”
She didn’t argue. The dark, dank shed was no doubt a great hiding place for all sorts of creatures. Not that the tall grass she stepped into wasn’t, but she had a flashlight and a machete and could run more easily out here.
Once he pulled the car inside, retrieved all their belongings and locked it up, he grabbed his own light and began to move forward slowly.
He wore heavy boots and didn’t have an extra pair for her, but if he went first, he’d take the brunt of any angry snakes. He encouraged her to hang on to the back of his pants with a free hand so he wouldn’t have to worry if he was accidentally moving too quickly for her.
He’d traveled like this many times before—night, stealth. Danger. It was always a goddamned rush. The thrill that normally coiled deep inside him knew it was time to unfurl and enjoy.
Tonight was really no different, although he swore he thought it would be, should be, really, with Liv keeping up pretty well behind him. There were no complaints from her, and there should have been. This was unforgiving country under the best of circumstances.
And finally, over the rise of a small hill, he shined the light onto the path ahead of them and saw the house they would stay in—long abandoned and no amenities other than a tin roof. A deserted house, no doubt used by squatters. Not the best place, but there were certainly worse.
The big problem was that they’d been forced back in the other direction from where he’d originally come—hours farther from the meeting place than they’d been before. On this terrain, that could easily add half a day to their liaison.
You’ve got her. That is all that matters.
And a bonus—a working water pump outside. It was perfect.
They approached the house cautiously. He shone the light inside—they’d gotten here an hour or so before sunrise. Deeming it safe and solid, he motioned for her to come inside.
But she stood there, at the threshold, peering in with an odd look on her face. She shone her own light around, checking the corners, the ceiling. Did that three or four times and remained there as though her feet were glued to the spot.
Maybe she was in some kind of delayed shock? He wanted to urge her inside but he knew that wouldn’t work. Instead, he began doing what he needed to, creating a perimeter outside the house, and then creating another with a wider border.
She waited outside the doorway looking inside the entire time. When he finished, he stood next to her for a few seconds.
Finally, she said, “Will they find us?”
“Look, the front’s wired. So’s the back, except for this.” He moved past her to the interior, pointed to a small section that resembled a crawl space. “If they come here, head for this. Fast.”
“You’ll be here to remind me, right?”
“Couldn’t pry me away,” he told her.
For the second time since he’d met her, she smiled. He took that as a damned good sign.
It was an even better one when she walked inside and pulled the door closed behind her.
CHAPTER
5
Four hours ago, Vivi had awakened to find herself facedown in her kidnapper’s lap, which was embarrassing enough. Since then, she’d been walked into this drab room with the two-way mirror and the hard chairs and the even harder-looking man, who sat across from her.
He wasn’t one of the three men from the car. Interestingly, no one hid their faces from her, which relieved her slightly.
Unless, of course, they didn’t care if she saw them, since they planned on killing her. Which was something she was trying hard not to think about.
This stone-cold man who sat across from her wore all black, could easily be part of the military. Or not.
The thing was, she’d been answering all his questions, and in return he’d answered none of hers. She was pretty sure they’d taken all her computers and were now pouring over both her current security program as well as her father’s flawed one. She’d asked in short order for her attorneys and her contacts at Homeland Security and was given nothing in return except more questions.
Most of them centered on her father’s ill-fated software security, which had ultimately gotten him fired from his government job, and about the InLine Energy project. Every now and then, the man would ask her about her own new program, to which she would reply, “It’s a work in progress. It’s unfinished and the first person to see it when it is complete will be the U.S. Military and Homeland Security.”
Now she had to pee. And her mouth was dry. The water in front of her looked so inviting, but she crossed her legs and stared at her interrogator again.
She’d asked to use the bathroom three times. Each time, she’d been told, In a few minutes.
A full bladder wouldn’t be enough to induce her to spill secrets, if she had any, which she didn’t.
Finally, the man whose lap she’d slept in stuck his head in the room and said, “Come with me.”
Without a second glance at the man who’d been questioning her, she followed and almost sighed when he pointed to a door marked restroom.
After she’d used the facilities, she washed her hands and glanced in the mirror.
Dark circles. Pale skin. Ugh. And, God, she needed a shower.
She turned and walked out. Right into the big man. “Sorry.”
He didn’t say anything, kept a hand on her to make sure she’d regained her footing. And continued to hold her arm even after she stepped back away from him.
The memory of being handcuffed to him was far too fresh in her mind. And despite the fear uncurling in her b
elly, there was something else there, making her throat tight and heat flood her face.
Maybe it was the way he studied her—not the cold gaze like the other interrogator. No, there was heat in his eyes, and it made her uncomfortable to even think about her kidnapper in that way.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Do you really care?” He raised his brows but didn’t answer and she realized that she needed to get him on her side, not piss him off. “Do I have to go back in there?” God, please say no, please say no …
“Yes. But first, I’d like to hear more details than what you’ve given.”
He’d obviously been listening in, must’ve been watching, noticing her discomfort. “I don’t know what other details you’re looking for. I’ve freely told the other man everything he’s asked about. If there’s something wrong, can you please just tell me?”
No answer.
Someone had to believe she spoke the truth, or else.
Or else.
She was in trouble but good.
Finally, he spoke. “So tell me again, Vivienne.” He still held her, his body blocking her view down the hallway. And yes, anything to avoid that other room.
“It’s Vivi, please,” she said absently. “Do I ever get to know your name?”
He paused for a second, and then, “It’s Caleb.”
Caleb. The name fit him. Strong. Old-fashioned. He was seriously dark and deadly. And he had her in his sights. As did the rest of his mystery organization.
She had to convince him she was telling the truth, and fast. “Look, I’ve been developing security software since before college. I dropped out my freshman year because my dad …”
You will not choke up. You will not. “My dad needed my help,” she finished.
“Was he sick?”
“He never functioned well in the real world,” she said truthfully. “We worked together on private security programs from the time I was fifteen.”
And still, there was never enough money.
“What about the program for InLine?”
“I’ve been working on it.”
“What’s the problem?”
Should she tell him? Up until this point, she’d simply been insisting the program was unfinished. That wasn’t a lie, exactly—in her eyes, it was unfinished.
Promises in the Dark Page 5
