Code Conspiracy

“No. No police or ambulance.” She clutched at Gray’s shirt with both hands. “He’s getting away. Don’t let him get away. He has Amit.”

He cupped her sore face with one hand. “I’m not leaving you in this alley by yourself. He might have an accomplice.”

She struggled to stand as her attacker staggered to his feet and limped off at a surprising clip, holding his arm.

“Is there a problem? What’s going on?” Two men peered over Gray’s shoulder, and he slipped the switchblade into his pocket.

“That guy was assaulting this woman.” Gray jerked his thumb over his shoulder, but her attacker had already made it out of the alley and had turned the corner. “Now get lost.”

The men immediately drew back in unison and muttered to each other as they took a hike.

Gray helped her to her feet. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can take you to the emergency room and you can tell them you had a fall. You’re good at covering up.”

She hopped up on one foot, hanging onto his shirt. “I’m not okay. You just let the guy who was following Amit and attacked me escape. He has Amit and we let him walk away.”

“He was limping away and how do you know he has Amit?” He rubbed her arms, brushing the dirt from her jacket.

“He texted me from Amit’s phone. How do you think I wound up out here?” She gestured with her arm and winced.

“What I’m wondering is why the hell you scurried out to a dark alley based on a text without telling me.” He ran his fingers through the hair hanging over her shoulder. “Dirt.”

“I did tell you I was going outside. I guess you didn’t hear me because you were so focused on ordering your chocolate croissant.” She started toward the street, pressing one hand against her midsection.

“Where are you going and where are you injured?”

She leveled a finger at the street, teeming with traffic just beyond the alley. “I’m gonna look for the guy who bruised my ribs.”

“You’re not going to find him now, Jerrica.” He patted the pocket of his shirt. “But I have his fingerprints. He wasn’t wearing gloves.”

She stopped and leaned against Gray’s shoulder. “You’re right. I’m not going to find him out there.”

His arm came around her, and she put more pressure against his body, soaking in his warmth and power.

He squeezed her and his voice roughened as he said, “He had that knife. How’d you get out of it? When I got here, you had the upper hand.”

“My senses were already on high alert. When I saw him out here instead of Amit, I knew something was wrong, so when he came at me I was ready. All those years of martial arts paid off. I gave him a quick shot to the face, and it startled him into dropping the knife.”

Gray kissed the side of her head. “Ever think of trying out for Delta Force?”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds just to inhale the scent of him, all that clean masculinity making her feel soft and protected—even though she’d just kicked some guy’s ass—almost. Feeling soft and protected was a dangerous place to be. The last time she felt soft and protected, her whole world had blown up.

She stepped back and shook her head. “They’d never have me.”

“Let’s go back inside. There’s a slice of lemon loaf in there with your name on it.”

He tugged on her arm and she went willingly, even though she couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder.

She asked, “What do you think he did with Amit and why?”

Gray opened the back door of the coffeehouse and ushered her inside, the smell of coffee replacing the stench of garbage and fear that permeated the alley.

“I don’t know. What did he want with you? Did he say anything? Was he trying to get you to go with him or was he trying to…kill you?”

“I’m not sure.” She flipped her hair over one shoulder. “I didn’t stop to ask him.”

Gray seated her at a table, and keeping one eye on her, he retrieved two plates from the counter. He slipped the piece of lemon cake in front of her. “Eat.”

She sawed off a corner. “This all has something to do with Amit looking into that arms stash in Nigeria. I’m sure of it.”

“Which means it probably has to do with Major Denver. But why come after you?”

“Maybe because Amit called me, so they had my number. Maybe Amit didn’t give them anything, and they thought they’d try me. They’d want to stop whatever hacking Amit is doing into that system.”

“Stop how?”

“Get into Dreadworm’s space and shut it all down. If the government is behind this, they’ve been wanting to shut down Dreadworm for years.” She popped the bite of cake into her mouth and the taste of the sweet, tart lemon on her tongue almost erased the ashes left there by the conversation.

Had Amit divulged Dreadworm’s location? If so, she’d have to mobilize Olaf’s army to back up all the programs and data and physically move the computers before they were destroyed.

“Why don’t you call Amit again—just for fun. Let’s see what happens.”

Jerrica caught a crumb of lemon cake from the corner of her mouth with her tongue and pulled out her phone. She scrolled to her recent calls and tapped Amit’s name. Her stomach churned as she listened to the ringing on the other end. “No voice mail coming up. They must’ve turned off his phone. Do you think…?”

“No.” Gray dabbed a flake of chocolate from his plate and sucked it off his finger. “They can’t get anything out of a dead man.”

“They can make him stop what he’s doing. If they know he hacked into this classified system, Amit’s death ensures that stops immediately.”

“But it doesn’t, does it?” Gray planted his elbows on the table on either side of his half-eaten croissant. “If he wrote a program to get into this secret database, that’s going to keep running whether or not Amit is there to monitor it. Am I wrong?”

“You surprise me, Gray Prescott.” She hunched forward and rubbed her thumb across a chocolate smudge on his chin. “You really were listening to me.”

“I always listened to what you had to say, Jerrica. You’re one of the most fascinating people I know. Why wouldn’t I?” He placed the tip of his finger against his chin where she’d just cleaned it off.

“Because you hated everything I did, everything it implied.”

“Hate?” He rubbed his knuckles against his jaw. “That’s a strong word. I didn’t believe what you were doing was right…or necessary.”

“And now?” She folded her hands, prim as a schoolgirl, waiting for her absolution.

“I’m still not sure it’s right, but it sure as hell is necessary. If people within the government are actively working against the interests of the US, those people need to be outed and stopped. Dreadworm can do that.”

“It’s worse than that, Gray, and you know it. These moles in our government aren’t just working against us, they’re working with terrorists to kill our fellow citizens. It’s happening. We have all the pieces. Major Denver has all the pieces. We just need to fit them together to discover the who, what and when.” She swiped a napkin across her mouth and crumpled it in her fist. “And we need to save Amit.”

“Amit’s going to have to save himself. Does Dreadworm have some sort of protocol in place that tells you what to do if one of you is…captured like this?”

“For communicating, but nothing for an abduction.” She tossed the mangled napkin onto her plate. “You know Olaf went into hiding when he felt the snare tightening.”

“It was worldwide news. Of course, I know.” He reached across the table and entwined his fingers with hers. “When I heard that, all I could think of was you and your safety, and now here I am contributing to the danger.”

Her heart fluttered when Gray said things like that to her, but pretty words didn’t mean much. She hadn’t been able to count on him before. He’d bolted once and he might do so again when he got what he wanted from her. It might be even worse this time if he felt guilty over his complicity in hacking into secure systems, but this time those systems belonged to rogue government employees, not the good guys as Gray had assumed.

Just because his family was so plugged into government service didn’t mean all those nameless, faceless bureaucrats roaming the halls of Washington had the best interests of this country as their number one priority…or as any priority.

She disentangled her fingers from his. “You’re not endangering me. I was onto this conspiracy before you arrived in New York, although I have to admit the data I stumbled on piqued my curiosity even more when I realized the person at the center of this swirling controversy was none other than your commander, Major Denver.”

Gray cocked his head to the side. “You surprise me, Jerrica West.”

“Why?” She slid her hands from the table and tucked them between her bouncing knees. Had she revealed how crazy attracted she still was to him?

“You remembered my Delta Force commander’s name. I guess you were listening to me.” He brushed his fingers together over his plate, a smug little smile playing about his lips.

Listening? She’d hung on to every word out of his mouth, never quite believing he was truly hers or would stick around. And she’d been right.

“You had some interesting stories, yourself.”

“I thought…” He shrugged his broad shoulders, and a tide of color rushed into his face.

She narrowed her eyes. “You thought what?”

“Once I learned about your line of work, I thought your interest in me had more to do with what I could reveal about our defense than me personally.” He thumped his fist against his chest.

“You said something like that before and it’s idiotic.” She grabbed her purse and shot up from her chair. “Let’s go.”

He followed her toward the door so closely she could feel his warm breath stirring her hair. For a good-looking guy, Gray had a surprising number of insecurities. His well-connected family had mega bucks, and she’d figured it always had him wondering if women wanted him or his family’s wealth and connections.

With her own stash of cash in the bank from the settlement and the modest way she lived, he’d never been able to accuse her of going for the gold, so he’d made up another reason that she’d be interested in him.

She tossed her head and flicked her gaze at the many women tracking his progress out of the coffeehouse. Did the man have a mirror?

When they hit the sidewalk, she took his arm. “I’m worried about Amit. We have to find him before they hurt him.”

“Or break him.”

“That’s not going to happen.” She pulled him toward the subway station. “Olaf’s army is loyal. We don’t break.”

“You may not break under the gentle, monitored, legal questioning of the government, but that’s not what we’re dealing with here. If these are government agents, they’re not your mother’s government agents.”

She tripped to a stop at the top of the stairs leading to the platform. “Your mother’s, maybe. They’re exactly my mother’s and my father’s.”

As she trotted downstairs, tears blurred her eyes and Gray put a steadying hand on her back.

He ducked his head to hers. “Sorry. Stupid thing to say.”

When they boarded the train, she gripped the pole and swayed toward him as the car moved forward, her eyes locking onto his dark blue ones.

She shuffled closer to Gray, almost whispering in his ear. “Amit’s in danger, isn’t he?”

“You’re both in danger.”

“I have to tell Olaf. Maybe we should go to the Dreadworm offices now.” She chewed on her bottom lip, all the sweetness of the lemon cake gone.

“And get followed? Not a good idea.” He pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Stop doing that. You’ll make it bleed.”

“You’re right. Now is not the time to go running off to Dreadworm. That’s what they’d expect.” She slid a gaze to the side. “Someone could be on our tail now.”

The train squealed as it rolled into their stop and the force threw her against Gray’s chest. She rested there for a few seconds, long enough for Gray to balance his chin on top of her head.

“We’ll figure this out. We’ll find Amit.”

As she pulled away from him, strands of her hair clung to the scruff on his jaw, connecting them for seconds longer, seconds she needed to collect herself.

They hustled down the sidewalk, shoulders bumping, and she’d never felt so safe—except for the last time Gray had been with her in New York—before he found out what she did.

When they reached her building, one of the other residents pushed through the door and held it open for them, nodding at Jerrica. She gave him a hard stare.

The door closed behind them and Gray watched her curiously. “You don’t know him?”

“I do, but he’s never seen you before in his life. How’d he know you were with me?”

Gray raised his hand clasping hers. “Maybe this is a hint.”

“You never know. I could be your captive.” She studied Gray’s face, but he didn’t even roll one eye. That attack had scared him as much as it had her.

They clumped up the stairs, their boots filling the staircase with noise. Jerrica placed her hand against her door and turned the first lock.

She froze as icy fingers played up her spine. Then she hissed between her teeth. “Someone’s been here.”

Chapter Four

Gray’s muscles tensed and he stepped between Jerrica and the door. He bent his head to hers, his lips brushing her ear. “How do you know?”

“This lock.” She circled a piece of tarnished metal with her fingertip. “It locks from the outside with a key. I locked it when we left, and now it’s not locked. The other two lock automatically when the door closes.”

“Unlock the rest and stand back.” He hovered over her shoulder as she shoved her key into two more locks, clicking them open.

Earlier, he’d taken one look at that line of locks on Jerrica’s door and figured he’d have better luck coming through the window. Had someone else come to the same conclusion and then left through the front door?

Or was that someone else still waiting inside?

As he pushed into the room, he clutched the gun in his pocket and tensed his muscles. A breeze ruffled the curtains at the window—the same window he used earlier.

“You didn’t leave a window open a slice, did you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Stay back.” Nobody had jumped out at them or appeared with guns blazing, but that didn’t seem to be their style. The guy in the alley had had an opportunity to stab Jerrica when she first went out there, but he’d wanted something else.

He pulled the gun from his pocket and followed it into the room, raking his gaze from side to side. Jerrica’s possessions, in place and undisturbed, belied the presence of an intruder.

Tipping back his head, he scanned the loft. From his vantage point, nobody had disturbed Jerrica’s neat space. If it weren’t for that lock and the window open a crack, they’d have no reason to believe anyone had compromised her apartment.

Together, they walked into the guest bedroom downstairs and Gray checked the closet and the bathroom.

Jerrica gasped and his finger tightened on the trigger.

“My laptop’s upstairs.”

Lunging after her, he reached out to grab her but she twisted away from him and stomped up the rest of the stairs. He had no choice but to follow her, his panic causing him to pant.

As Jerrica dove for the laptop on the nightstand, Gray threw open the closet doors. The mostly dark-colored clothes shimmied on their hangers. His hands plowed through the materials, skimming leather and denim and soft cotton, but no intruders crouched in the recesses of the closet.

He took a step back and bumped into the foot of Jerrica’s bed where she was sitting cross-legged, hunched over her computer.

“They didn’t take your laptop? That’s weird.” His eyes darted around the neat, bare room, as impersonal as a jail cell, and he took a deep breath. “Are you sure someone broke in?”

She raised her gaze from the laptop and her green eyes narrowed. “I knew right away. I always secure that lock. They underestimated me if they thought I wouldn’t notice that, the window…or other things.”

“Such as?” Again, his gaze wandered around the spare room.

“I can’t explain it to you—it’s the placement of a book, the angle of a cushion. They didn’t want to leave a mess. Didn’t want me to think they’d been here.” She dug her fingers into her black hair, and pulled it back from her face with one hand. “That’s why they left my laptop.”

“If they didn’t take anything and didn’t want to scare you by tossing your place, then what?”

She flicked her fingers at the computer. “They’re going to track me through this.”

Gray’s heart jumped. “How would they do that? Can they do that?”

“Keystrokes.”

“You lost me, just like you always do with this stuff.” He sank to the bed and an unexpected flash of desire scorched his flesh as he remembered the last time they’d been on this bed, in this room.

Jerrica gave no sign that the memory had crept into her databank. She ducked her head, her straight hair creating a curtain around her face as her fingers flew across the keys.

“The intruders probably loaded a program on my laptop that’s going to send anything I do straight to them—anything I look up, any emails, any programs I run. That’s what I’d do. It’ll be like they’re looking over my shoulder while I work.”

“You think you can find it?”

She peeked at him through the strands of her hair and snorted, causing the black curtain to flutter about her face. “No problem.”

As Jerrica sank farther into the zone, Gray slid from the bed and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to head downstairs and see about securing that window so nobody, including me, can get into your place that way again.”

Jerrica murmured without looking up.

He’d been in this situation with her before and knew better than to disturb her.

Jogging downstairs, he skimmed his hand along the bannister and jumped off the last step. He curled his fingers under the window and shoved it open the rest of the way. He leaned out, looking down into the street from the third-floor drop.

The tree abutting the building offered wily climbers, like him, access to the ledge running along the side of the apartment building. He couldn’t get rid of the tree, but he could do something about the ledge and the window itself.

He pivoted away from the window and into the kitchen. He threw open a few cupboard doors until he found a bottle of olive oil. Too bad Jerrica didn’t have cooking spray, but he didn’t expect to find anything that unnatural in her kitchen.

He unscrewed the lid of the bottle as he walked back to the window and then drizzled the contents along the ledge below. A slick surface wouldn’t allow someone the grip he needed to hang onto the side of the building. He set the empty bottle on the counter and tipped back his head, calling up to the loft.

“Do you have a hammer and some nails?” He had to yell twice before Jerrica emerged from her fog.

“What?”

“Hammer and nails? Where do you keep your tools…if you have any?”

“Toolbox on the floor of the front closet. Why? Never mind. Carry on.”

Crouching before the closet, he clawed through the coats and scarves hanging to the floor and wrapped his fingers around the handle of a metal toolbox. He dragged it out and flipped open the lid.

Jerrica kept the toolbox as neat as everything else in her life—every nut and bolt had its place. He messed them up before selecting several long nails and a hammer, wrapping his fingers around the black rubber encasing the handle.

He returned to the window and nailed it shut. As he tapped the final nail into place, Jerrica appeared behind him, her hands on her slim hips.

He met her gaze in the window’s reflection.

“You just nailed my window shut.”

“That’s right. Nobody can get through it.”

She reached over his arm and traced a nailhead with her fingertip. “Someone could smash it.”

“And crawl through jagged glass? I don’t think so.” He turned to face her and they stood chest to chest, neither of them moving or pulling away. “Besides, I poured oil on the ledge. Nobody is going to be able to hang on it or stand outside the window long enough to be able to break it or cut it.”

Her eyes widened and he got the full effect of those green orbs. “You poured oil on the outside of my building? What is this, 1066 and you’re defending the castle?”

“It wasn’t hot oil. It’s an effective method—as long as it doesn’t rain several days in a row.” He pulled on his earlobe. “Your building manager isn’t going to suddenly power wash the building, is he?”

“Did you actually get a look at my building while you were scaling it? I don’t think it’s been washed in a hundred years. Wait. What kind of oil?” She spun around, her black hair lashing his cheek.

He rested his hand on her shoulder as he pointed to the bottle on the counter. “Olive oil.”

“Are you securing my building or making hummus?”

“Hummus?” He sniffed. “Why would I make hummus? It’s the only oil I could get my hands on. If you were a normal person, you’d have some cooking spray on hand. That would’ve been a lot easier to use.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Cooking spray has chemicals you don’t want anywhere near your food.”

“I’m sure it does.” He raised his hands. “Don’t ruin cooking spray for me like you ruined red meat.”

“Does that mean you gave it up?” Turning her head, she raised one hopeful eyebrow.

“Not quite. I just try not to think about you while I’m ripping into a juicy steak.” He snapped his mouth shut and sealed his lips. Had he just admitted to her that he thought about her? A lot?

She shifted away from him and reached for the empty bottle. “I guess I’ll have to put olive oil on my grocery list.”

He cleared his throat. “Did you get done what you needed to get done up there? Did you find the bug or the program or whatever?”

“I did not. Nothing was loaded on my computer.” She sucked in her bottom lip. “Maybe they weren’t smart enough to do something like that.”

Gray methodically surveyed the small, neat space—not a cushion was out of place. “What did they do here, then?”

Shrugging, Jerrica splayed her hands in front of her. “I don’t know. I would think they’d want to hit my laptop. They want to know what we know—or what we’re going to discover. But they couldn’t break into it and didn’t want to take it and alert me.”

A knot formed in the pit of Gray’s stomach as his eyes darted around the room. Maybe the intruder didn’t take anything. Maybe he left something behind.

“Gray.” Jerrica grabbed his arm. “What are we going to do about Amit?”

His gaze shifted to Jerrica’s face, her forehead creased and her mouth turned down. His fingers itched to smooth the lines from her face, to turn up her lips. “Unless you want to call the police, there’s not much we can do right now. Do you have his girlfriend’s number?”

Her frown deepened. “No. I wish she would call me. Maybe we could get some info out of her. Maybe she saw someone or something.”

“Would she call the police if she doesn’t hear from Amit?”

“I’m not sure. He lives…”

Gray put two fingers against her lips and shook his head.

Her eyes got round but her mouth tightened with understanding. She grabbed his hand. “It’s late and I’m tired. I’m going to soak in the tub for a bit before I go to bed. Do you want to join me?”

Even though he knew it to be a ruse, his heart thumped at the thought of sharing a tub with Jerrica. “Lead the way.”

She headed for the stairs and he followed her, his gaze dropping to her derriere outlined in a pair of tight black jeans. Jerrica didn’t follow the latest fashions, but her urban guerilla style pushed all his buttons. This time his buttons would remain pushed…no release. The sexual tension coiled in his gut until he gave himself a mental shake when Jerrica pushed open the bathroom door.