Nanny 911 (12 page)

“Murdock?” Holmes was calling her on the walkie-talkie again. “You there? Are you and Fiona safe?”

She pushed the button to answer. “We’re safe. Go ahead and call Captain Cutler—and your chief, Damiani—to report the guy taking pictures. Ask if there’s any follow-up we need to do.”

“I’ve already got Damiani on the line. Say, Murdock?”

“Yes?”

“You know, you didn’t have to panic like that.”

Panic? Miranda steamed. That nincompoop of a snail was accusing her of panicking at the intruder?

“If you get locked out of the house, there’s an override on the second-story windows. The boss designed it that way in case there was a fire, so no one would get trapped inside. The steel shutters up there are built on a flexible hinge. Just jimmy it with something small like a screwdriver, and the shutter will pop open.”

“Jimmy it with a screwdriver. Got it.” It might have been nice to let her know that before this place locked down like a prison. Weren’t they all on the same team, trying to protect this family? “Murdock out.”

She looped the camera strap over her shoulder and picked up Fiona, taking care to hold the picture so it didn’t sustain any further damage and there was some chance the crime lab could analyze it. With each step back to the house, her pace slowed as her protective temper abated and those familiar doubts crept back into her head. Did she really have room to complain about the quality of Gallagher’s security force?

She hadn’t noticed the spy until he’d already taken several pictures, either.

“W
ORKS LIKE A DREAM
,
BOSS
.” Ozzie Chang hit the print command and rocked back in his chair in the GSS computer lab. “In theory, anyway.” He pulled a pen from his spiky black hair and marked a couple of reference points on the printout. “Although, I still don’t get why you wanted to run a simulation program on the old electronic locks. Are we really going to start building these again? This is like two models and a whole bunch of out-of-date source codes ago.”

Quinn squeezed Ozzie’s thin shoulder as he checked the time on the clock. 11:32. Just in time before the noon deadline. He needed to get someplace private and send the updated design to the anonymous email address. “Thanks, Oz. I’m just feeling sentimental,” he lied. There was no need to involve anyone else in this game he’d been forced to play. “I wanted to see if there was any value in revitalizing the old program.”

“Yeah, but over Christmas? I figured you were a workaholic, man, but even I took the day off to play a marathon of ‘Zombie Apocalypse’ with my buds online.”

To each their own way of celebrating the holidays. Although he was anxious to be on his way and get the job completed by the deadline, Quinn grinned at the young man. “Did you win?”

“Kicked their butts into the New Age, sir.”

Quinn breathed out a reluctant sigh and pushed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. Had he ever been that young and carefree? Growing up had been about working to help his mom make ends meet. It was about learning to outrun the bullies, then learning to outwit them as he got older. A few times, it had been about a four-eyed kid learning how to fight—to defend himself, and to defend his mother from some of the desperate choices she had made.

It had rarely been about holiday celebrations and playing games where the biggest consequence was developing sore thumbs from too many hours at the game controller.

There was a lot to envy about Ozzie’s young-at-heart attitude. He was glad to have that kind of young energy working at GSS. “Would you email the data to my office address?”

“Sure thing, boss.” With a spin of his chair, Ozzie was typing at the keyboard again. “Email sent. Anything else?”

Quinn swiped his key card and punched in the code to leave the lab. But he paused at the open door. “Yeah. Go home. Call your folks. Call your friends. Do whatever it is you do that makes you happy. I don’t want to see you again until after the New Year. And look for a bonus in next month’s paycheck.”

“Sweet.”

“Can you lock up the shop?”

Ozzie grinned. “Yes, sir. Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year to you.”

Quinn didn’t wait for the door to close behind him. He jogged to the bank of elevators and got inside to press the penthouse office button.

As soon as he was in his office, he logged into the company server and pulled up the email from Ozzie. Then, with a grim sense of foreboding, he emailed the file to the anonymous email address he’d been given and waited.

He wasn’t quite sure how updating the design specs on an old security system, and proving it still worked, would make things “right” for his tormentor. He had a feeling the task had been more about busywork, a diversion of some kind. But he wasn’t going to argue the inanity of the task. He was simply going to do it and pray it would be enough to remove Fiona as a target in this anonymous bastard’s scheme.

His phone vibrated in his chest pocket and he inhaled a deep, steadying breath before answering it. There were still four days to go until the New Year. He’d been threatened by too many bullies growing up to believe this was actually going to stop without some kind of major fight.

He read the text message on his phone screen.

Nicely done, Mr. G. Your daughter gets to live for another day. You will be hearing from me tomorrow. And trust me, the message will be loud and clear.

Chapter Eight

3 Days until Midnight, New Year’s Eve

Louis Nolan paced the sitting area of Quinn’s office. The receding points of his hairline wrinkled with the tension radiating off him. “Nervous investors are bad for business, especially when we’re about to start a new fiscal year. We’re talking millions of dollars here, Quinn. He’s come all the way from Europe. The least you can do is hear him out.”

“I’m a little busy right now, Louis.” Quinn glanced up from the printout where he’d been reviewing the simulation data provided by Ozzie Chang. He’d been an idiot—a full-fledged, too-smart-for-his-own-good-so-he’d-overlooked-the-obvious idiot. The reason for the busywork and the noon deadline yesterday was hidden right here, in the thousands of lines of code that ran the program. He and Ozzie had provided the means for a talented hacker to get into the GSS network.

It was impossible to tell how successful the break-in had been from this printout. He’d already made certain that the thousands of home security systems they monitored hadn’t been compromised, so this wasn’t about a spree of pending burglaries. And it would be a long, painstaking process to go through all of GSS’s data files and employees’ personal computers to see if any of them had been tapped into, downloaded or stolen.

This was his own damn fault. He’d been so distracted by the Kalahari explosion and the trespasser taking pictures of his daughter and the sick threats against his family that he’d made an amateur mistake. The hacker had tapped into the GSS mainframe through the trapdoor created when he’d run that simulation program. Now he needed a way to backtrack to the source and eliminate any other inroads into GSS and its systems.

You will be hearing from me tomorrow. And trust me, the message will be loud and clear.

Tomorrow was now today, and Quinn didn’t want any more surprises. If he could figure out the target inside the GSS mainframe, then maybe he could finally get ahead of this creep and stop him. “This is where my talents are best put to use today. I trust you to handle the situation with Titov.”

His attention drifted to the tiny brunette playing at the far end of his office, and the tall blonde sitting dutifully still while Fiona listened to her heart with a plastic stethoscope and put bandages all over Miranda’s dark blue sweater. He’d hired the best security in the city—heck, he’d invented and developed some of the best security technology in the world. And yet he couldn’t shake the irrational fear that letting Fiona out of his sight meant not being able to protect her.

Finding out who’d dared to threaten his family, and stopping him, were the only things on Quinn’s to-do list right now.

Louis slapped his palm on Quinn’s desk the moment he returned his attention to the printout. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t know that I
can
handle it. I’ve reassured him every way I know how, but Nikolai insists on talking directly to you.”

“You’re the one who has the rapport with him. You’re the one who brokered the deal to keep his money in GSS after we closed the plant in Lukinburg.” No matter how influential an investor was, or how much clout he carried in the European market, nothing was more important than his daughter’s safety. Until Quinn could determine whether or not the attack on the GSS security network was part of that threat, or another distraction that was diverting his attention from his daughter, his focus needed to be right here. He summoned up a reassurance for his COO. “You’re my right hand in this company, Louis. I know you can handle Nikolai Titov.”

“As your right hand, you’ve always trusted me to take care of the business side of things—no matter what else is going on with your life. I kept things running for months while you dealt with Valeska’s murder. I’ve helped you weather wars and economic crashes. I know you’re worried about Fiona right now.” Louis’s bushy silver brows lifted with a friendly beseechment. “But this company is her future, too. A short meeting to alleviate the concerns of one of our most important partners is all I’m asking from you right now. Ten minutes of your time this morning, and I’ll be able to keep the European market afloat for us while you see to the needs of your family.”

It was Louis’s job to put the company first. As much as the timing stank, Quinn was a smart enough man to listen to the experts he’d hired.

“You know, Louis, anyone else talking to me like this would be downright irritating. But I know you’re thinking of the bigger picture when I can’t. All right. Ten minutes.” He slipped the printout into the top right drawer of his desk and called his assistant. “Elise? Show Mr. Titov and his associates into my office.”

“Yes, Quinn. Right away.”

Pushing back his chair as he stood, Quinn rolled down his sleeves and buttoned his cuffs. He circled around his desk to grab his suit jacket off the back of one of the sofas and kept on walking until he reached Miranda and Fiona. He buttoned his collar and tightened his tie before squatting down to Fiona’s level. “Hey, sweetie. Daddy has to do a little work now. Why don’t you and Miranda go check out the break room and get a snack? Do you remember the way?”

Fiona grinned from ear to ear. “Soda pop.”

“That’s right. It’s where the soda pop machine is.” Quinn shook his head and directed his wishes to Miranda, who was on her knees peeling off bandages. “Make sure she drinks juice. Go to the elevator and follow the hallway around.”

“I saw the room during our search on Christmas Eve.” Miranda stood, her expression concerned behind Fiona’s back. “Trouble?”

Quinn hugged his daughter and set her on her feet before standing. “Business.”

When he took Fiona’s hand and pressed it into Miranda’s, his fingers brushed against hers. His sensitive fingertips tingled at the brief contact, remembering where a simple holding of hands had led them the night before last. Just as quickly, he pulled away before he could get sucked into a distraction like that again. He needed a clear head to deal with Titov and Louis’s concerns so he could be done with them and get back to his investigation into the hacked computer system.

Still, when a woman had a green mermaid bandage stuck to her shoulder, it was a gentleman’s duty to remove it for her. He peeled the strip of plastic off Miranda’s sweater. The movement brought him close enough to look over her shoulder to see the bulge of her gun at the back of her waist. Right. Tingling skin and remembered kisses had no place between them. As much as he hated the idea of a gun being so close to his daughter, the idea of a three-year-old being completely defenseless against an unseen threat frightened him even more. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“I won’t.”

“Right this way, gentlemen.” The office door opened before Miranda and Fiona reached it. Elise Brown, who’d interrupted her visit with her parents to come in this morning, made Quinn think this was any other day at the GSS offices—for a moment. The last few days had left his brain in perpetual turmoil—solving riddles, being stymied by Miranda’s sexy quirks and, unpredictability, protecting his daughter. Elise’s stylish suit, cordial smile and efficient manner added a touch of normalcy to the room that Quinn needed in order to deal with a man like Titov. Nikolai and two of his associates came in, and Elise gestured to the seating area in the middle of the office suite. “Make yourselves comfortable wherever you like.”

Quinn was shaking hands and being introduced to Nikolai’s accountant and a Lukinburger stock analyst when a dark-haired dynamo dashed back into the room.

“Petwa!” Fiona darted through the middle of the gathering to retrieve her doll from the box of toys where they’d been playing.

“Sorry, sir,” Miranda apologized from the doorway. “We forgot her sidekick.”

“She doesn’t go anywhere without Petra. Her mother made it for her when she was born.” Quinn passed his hand over the silky crown of Fiona’s dark waves as she zigzagged back through the towers of amused adults in her path.

Before she reached Miranda, Nikolai Titov picked Fiona up in his arms. Quinn was more startled than his daughter seemed to be, but Louis’s calming hand on his arm stopped him from taking more than half a step toward them. Miranda was moving right up behind Titov. Quinn still had her in his sight. Despite the emotional jolt that quickened his heart rate, logically he knew his daughter was safe.

“What a beauty you are.” Nikolai offered Fiona a fatherly sort of smile as he tucked a curl behind the little girl’s ear. His accented voice trilled the
r’
s and punctuated each consonant. “She looks so like your Valeska, does she not, Quinn?”

Quinn met the sincere appreciation in Nikolai’s gaze and nodded. Had it been that long since he and Nikolai had met face-to-face? That last dinner together on the Plaza, when Val had been pregnant with Fiona? No wonder Louis was worried about Titov and his foreign investors losing faith in GSS.