Snapped (29 page)

“We done eating?” he asked.

She nodded.

They walked back to the motel, not touching or even talking. She seemed moody now. He wasn’t the greatest at reading women, but he could tell she had something on her mind.

Maybe it was the promise he’d made her—that he didn’t intend to go back without her. Or maybe she was having second thoughts about sleeping with him.

When they got back to the room it was cool and dark, the A/C still rattling away in the corner. Jonah tossed the key card on the dresser and pulled her against him. He tucked his hands inside the back of her jeans and felt the warm skin he’d been craving for an hour.

“You’re not a diversion,” he said.

“I’m not?” Her hands slid up, over his chest, to link behind his neck. “And here I thought I was pretty diverting.” She settled her breasts against him, and he knew she was doing it again—making it all about sex—but at the moment he didn’t care, because all he could think about was taking her to bed.

“I’m still hungry,” she whispered.

Jonah laid his Glock on the dresser. And then he pulled her down with him onto the squeaky bed.

“It’s Sharpe.”

Silence. “Is this a secure line?”

“What do you think?”

“You said yesterday. I wanted a status report yesterday.”

The man dropped the cigarette on the asphalt and let it smolder. He glanced at the fireworks stand across the street. Twenty Thunder Snaps for a dollar. It was a business model he hadn’t figured out. They operated only a few days a year and practically gave the shit away.

“What the hell’s going on? You said you’d be finished.”

“I will be.” He ground the cigarette with the heel of his boot. “Everything’s on schedule.”

More silence. He could picture this guy at his fancy, glass-topped desk, getting red in the face.

“There was an article today in the newspaper. A car crash out near the lab, then an explosion. Was that you?”

The man clenched his teeth.

“
No
fatalities. That’s what it said in the paper. So if it
was
you, you may want to rethink your battle plan.”

Rethink your battle plan
. When had this fucker ever seen a battle plan? He didn’t know the meaning of
battle
or
combat
or
country
, for that matter.

“Fear and intimidation,” he answered calmly. “That’s what this is. I’ve got her attention now. She’ll think before she opens her mouth again.”

Two kids left the stand with an armload of Roman candles. He and his dad used to make their own and set
them off down by the river. He’d learned to shoot down on that river. Learned to build bombs. Thirty years later, he was doing the same shit, only now he’d elevated it to an art form.

“So, if she’s intimidated … maybe we don’t need to kill her after all?”

Squeamish bastard.

“We need to.”

“Are you sure? We’re already at three. Maybe it’s better to scare her enough to guarantee her silence. I mean, she might not even know anything. Maybe she was just running her mouth off to that reporter.”

The man pictured her behind the wheel of that black Tahoe. He could still see the blond hair, the stylish black sunglasses. If he’d gotten that good a look at her, she’d definitely seen something.

“She dies,” he said. “That’s your guarantee.”

Pop
.

Sophie bolted upright, looking around frantically. Her heart leaped into her throat, and she nudged Jonah, a giant dark lump in the bed beside her.

“Did you hear that?” she hissed.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

She started to lunge for her purse, but he caught her arm.

“Firecrackers.”

She stopped to listen. It was silent now, but she replayed the sound in her head. She shook off Jonah’s grip and went to the window. She parted the curtains and peered out at the parking lot.

A long whistle.
Pop!

“See?” Jonah sat up in bed. “Bottle rockets.”

Sophie took a deep breath. She couldn’t see them, but she recognized the sound. She checked the lock on the door. Then she took her bag off the dresser and dropped it beside the bed.

“Come here.” His voice was rough from sleep. She slid into bed beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him.

She tugged the sheet up and rested her head on his chest. She listened to his heart. It was a steady
thump-bump
. Pause.
Thump-bump
. Hers was racing. Her breath felt shallow. She could feel her chest tightening, like it did sometimes. She closed her eyes and hoped she wouldn’t have a panic attack.

“You okay?” His breath was warm against the top of her head.

“I’m fine.”

His hand stroked slowly up her arm, then down again, and she took a deep breath. She nestled against him and breathed in his scent. She felt her chest loosen. And her pulse slow. Seconds ticked by. Minutes.

He reached under the covers and found her knee, then pulled it up so her thigh rested across his stomach.

“Better?”

She laughed. “No.”

He stroked his hand lazily over her leg, her hip, then back to her knee. She heard the low hum of the air conditioner across the room. She heard the fireworks, too, but they didn’t bother her now.

Her head felt good against his chest. Too good. His arms were strong and warm around her. The solidness of him put an ache inside her.

“Better now?”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat, felt her stomach flutter. “Sometimes I have trouble sleeping.”

“You told me.”

“I did?” She looked up at him.

“At breakfast that time.”

“Oh.” She laid her head back down and closed her eyes.

“You ever seen a doctor or anyone?”

“You mean a shrink?”

He didn’t answer, but she knew that’s what he meant. “My mom tried to get me to see a therapist, but I don’t know. I don’t know what good it would do.”

Nothing would erase it. No matter what she did, she’d always remember coming to in that cold, dark space and realizing she was trapped in the trunk. She remembered the metal vibrating under her body. She remembered her aching wrists, which had been bound so tightly she couldn’t feel her fingertips. She remembered the icy grip of panic as understanding dawned and she realized she couldn’t scream and she couldn’t move and she couldn’t do anything but listen to the tires spinning over miles and miles of highway.

Jonah stroked her leg some more, and she absorbed the heat of him.

“It’s just … You never think it can happen to you. And then when it does, you know anything can happen to you.”

She lay her hand on his sternum and felt his heart thud under her palm. He was listening to her, and for once she didn’t mind talking about this.

“I’m different now. Some expensive doctor’s not going to change that.”

“different how?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. Less carefree, I guess.” Less happy. Moodier. Bitchier. But she didn’t want to run down the list of all her flaws, so she tried to focus on something good. “I don’t take things for granted now. Not a day. Not a breath.”

He didn’t say anything as the moment stretched out. She turned and pressed a kiss to his chest. She wanted him to know she didn’t take him for granted, either, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him outright. Maybe he knew. Part of her hoped he did and another part of her panicked at the thought. He stirred up such strong emotions in her, and she wasn’t sure what she stirred up in him beyond simple lust. But even if that was all it was, she’d take it—for now, at least. He made her feel more alive than she had in ages, and she liked it.

He pulled his arm out from under her shoulders and shifted himself over her, pinning her to the bed with his hips. It was a nice, heavy feeling, even though he propped most of his weight on his elbows. The intense look in his eyes made her pulse quicken.

“So, this insomnia thing.” He kissed her neck. “I think I can help with that.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

His voice was serious, and she smiled.

“I bet you can.”

Allison trailed the bulky security guard down the windowed corridor.

“That dock belong to d-Systems?” Sean asked beside her.

The guard glanced out the window, and Allison followed his gaze. At the base of a green lawn that sloped down toward the water was a dock with several pontoon boats.

“The property covers all twenty acres from the bridge to the greenbelt area to the west.”

“Guess that means the boat dock, too, then,” Sean said. “You all use those boats for parties? Corporate picnics? Must be nice working for a place that has money to burn like that.”

The guard didn’t respond, and Allison could tell he didn’t appreciate being grilled all the way up here from the lobby. He swiped his way into a reception room using a security badge, then crossed the empty seating area to a pair of wood-paneled doors.

“Wait here,” he said, before rapping lightly on the door and entering.

Allison looked at Sean. “What gives?”

He gave her a “Who, me?” look.

“You’ve had a burr up your butt all morning. What is it?”

The wooden door opened. “Mr. Maxwell will see you now.”

Allison stepped into the inner sanctum of D-System’s CEO and nodded her thanks to the guard. Sean followed, without the nod. He was in a pissy mood, and she hadn’t figured out why yet.

She turned her attention to the room. Or, more accurately, to the man seated behind the glass-topped desk. Ryan Maxwell leaned back in a black leather chair and gave them a cool once-over.

“Have it to me by Monday,” he said into the phone clipped to his ear. He had a lean, tan face and short brown hair with a touch of gray at the temples. Allison put him at forty, which struck her as young to be in command of one of the biggest tech companies in the state.

After ending the call, he unhooked the ear clip, tossed it on the desk, and stood up.

“Detectives, good to see you this morning.” He stepped out from behind the desk and thrust out a hand. Like so many young Austinites, this guy sported the cyclist look, complete with biker shorts, a spandex shirt, and a yellow bracelet.

Allison shook his hand. “I’m Detective Doyle, and this is Detective Byrne.”

Sean shook hands and nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Thanks for seeing us on a weekend,” she added.

He shrugged. “Weekend. Weekday.” He gestured to the pile of papers on his desk beside the computer. “The
work doesn’t stop. I’m sure it’s the same for you guys. What can I do for you?”

Allison cut a glance at Sean, but he remained mute.

“We just have a few questions this morning about Eric Emrick.”

A grave expression came over Maxwell’s face, and he shook his head. “Terrible news. We’re still in shock around here.”

“Yes, I saw the flag at half-staff on our way in.”

“Eric will be missed. He was well liked by everyone on our staff.”

“I didn’t see you at the funeral,” Allison said.

Maxwell’s mouth tightened. “Yes, well. I didn’t know him personally. He was an intern. A contingent of his coworkers attended, though.” He glanced at Sean. “Can I offer you some refreshment?”

“We’re good, thanks,” Allison said.

“How about a seat?” Maxwell gestured them to a black leather sofa and chairs in front of a huge floor-to-ceiling window that offered a panoramic view of the lake. Allison took a chair. Sean stepped over to the window and looked out at the scenery. Maxwell gave him a mildly curious look before taking a seat himself.

“So, what did Eric do for you here?” Allison pulled the notebook out of her jacket and flipped to a clean page.

“He was in our R and D group. Research and development for some of our software applications.”

“Maybe we should back up a sec and you can tell me what exactly your company does.” She smiled sheepishly. “I’m not much on computers. You make software or something? Is that what I read?”

Maxwell smiled. “We create an array of leadingedge
software solutions for a wide range of customers.”

“And your customers are?”

“Blue chips, mostly—computer manufacturers, cellular phone companies.”

“The defense department?”

Allison glanced up at Sean, startled by both the question and the sharp tone.

“We have, in the past, worked with the department of defense.” Maxwell looked at Allison. “Most of our software utilizes GPS technology,” he explained. “It has some useful military applications.”

“Okay. And did Eric work on any of those?”

Another smile. “I’m afraid Eric didn’t have the security clearance for anything that sensitive. Anyway, we’re no longer working for the DoD.”

“Is that right?” This from Sean.

“That’s right.” The smiled flickered but stayed in place. “We’ve currently got our hands full with projects for our private-sector clients.”

“And Eric was working on which project?” Allison held her pencil poised above her notepad.

“Some of our cell phone applications. We create programs that essentially serve up various services to the user, and we like to test-drive them, so to speak, before we take them to market.” He nodded. “That’s where our interns come in. We recruit people who are smart, tech-savvy. In Eric’s case, he’s also got the engineering background.”