“I need proof.” Her words echoed her convictions; she was proud to hear them. “I won’t say anything without proof.” Judging by the small smile that teased the corners of the man’s mouth, he approved Ava’s firm stance. After a moment, he rose and left the room.
When he returned, he had a folder in hand. “Here.” He slid it across the table, and Ava rested her hand on it. Part of her didn’t want to see its contents. Fear trickled through her body, but she peeled away the layers of anxiety just enough to steady her hand.
“Your signature is on the document, as you can see.” He cocked his head to the left just a little and smirked.
She grimaced. You’re an arrogant SOB, aren’t you? She pulled her gaze away from him and scanned the thick packet of papers. They were the same set of documents she had signed before starting her project, six months ago. All the non-disclosures and confidential agreements—the same familiar black ink that covered half the words throughout the document was still there, hiding whatever the government didn’t want her to know.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes. She needed to think.
“Ava?” The man’s icy voice caused her eyes to snap open. “What is it that you’re not telling me?”
The man crossed his arms and remained standing near the table, staring down at her, waiting for Ava to speak.
“You have cameras at the lab. Shouldn’t you be telling me what happened?” The rebelliousness in Ava’s voice surprised even her. She reached for a loose strand of her brownish-blonde hair and twisted it as apprehension coiled inside her like a snake.
“Of course we have cameras. They were disabled last night. And so were the alarms.”
“At what time?” When Ava realized he wasn’t going to answer her question, she averted her eyes and kept them trained on the table, afraid he’d notice a lie on her face.
“Ava?”
She slouched her shoulders forward; she had no intention of telling him everything—how could she? She might get Henry in trouble. But she’d say just enough to help Henry if she could.
“Henry and I were alone at the lab. We’re the only ones who work on Sunday nights. Henry insisted I go out with a friend of mine who was in town, visiting.” She stole a glimpse of the man from the corner of her eye, but his face revealed nothing. “I left around eight for Baltimore. Henry stayed at the lab until midnight most nights. He was very dedicated.” Her heart thundered in her chest—the sound of its beating traveled to her ears like a dozen stallions pounding the ground all around her.
Ava flinched at the sudden opening of the door. A tall and fit woman with silver-gray hair took a few steps inside the room. Ava thought her age to be somewhere above fifty, although she had none of the characteristics that Ava associated with women of that age. She was sharp, her green eyes bright as the edge of a knife. And the look she was giving the man made even Ava’s hairs stand up on her arms.
Good for her. Ava didn’t like him, either.
“I need a word. Now,” the woman snapped, and Ava’s skin puckered at the sound of her voice.
“I’ll be right back,” the man said as he started for the door.
Ava heard him mumble a few words to the woman before the door swung shut. Among them were “Syria” and “terrorism.” Not the greatest things to hear. Ava tapped her fingers on the table, her body burning with impatience. Nervous energy wrung her tighter than a corset.
“I’m sorry about that.” Ava focused on the eyes of the mystery man after he entered the room—alone. Too bad. She would have preferred the ice queen.
This time, the man removed his blazer and slipped it over the back of the chair before sitting down. He pressed his large hands on the desk and stared into her eyes. She wondered what response this new approach was intended to elicit.
“Someone managed to cut the alarm and video feeds without triggering a response last night,” he rumbled. “Henry is supposed to check in every hour while at the lab. It’s protocol, as I’m sure you’re aware. When he didn’t check in, a team was dispatched to the location.” He pushed his hands against his black slacks and squinted at Ava as if the sun were in his eyes, but there were no windows in the room.
“Was the place empty when you got there?” It was hard for her to believe that the lab could have been wiped spotless of furniture and all that equipment within one hour. What in God’s name had happened?
“Was Henry acting suspicious at all, lately? Did he do anything out of the norm? What was his mood like, these last few weeks?” The man rattled off questions so fast Ava could barely hear him.
Her face tightened with anger, and pained irritation crawled up her spine. Did they think Henry was behind this? “Something is clearly wrong. I’m worried about Henry. Please, what if terrorists—”
“Did you ever see Henry talking with anyone outside the lab? Does he have any known friends or acquaintances?” His brown eyes bore through Ava. He was relentless. “What was the last thing he said to you before you left the lab?”
Finally, a question she could answer. “To get drunk.” A smirk snuck to her lips at the memory, but he didn’t find her amusing. He managed to scowl at her without looking too ugly, an impressive feat. “I never go out. Ever. Kat—Katarina and Eddie take the time to let loose on the weekends, but I . . . wait, where are Kat and Eddie? Are they here? Are they okay?” Her thoughts began to scramble with concern for them, as well. Although if they hadn’t answered their phones because they were also being interrogated by this secret agency . . . well, that was better than being attacked by terrorists. Wasn’t it?
“We need to focus on Henry right now.”
“But—”
“Ava, I need to know—was the project complete? Did you solve the equation?”
“No.” She angled her chin up, crazy defiance shimmering in her eyes. “Who are you, again?”
The man scratched his short hair but never broke eye contact. “I’m the only one who can find Henry. To help him. That is who.”
“Find him? Or accuse him of something?”
Regardless of what they thought, Ava knew Henry was no traitor. He wanted the country to be safe, and he wanted to do the job Homeland Security had hired them to do—to keep America free from a chemical terrorist attack. The man was a patriot.
“Henry’s missing. The equation you were working on is gone. This is a serious matter, Miss Daniels.”
“That is why I’d like some answers. I’m worried terrorists have Henry and are torturing him for information.” The thought of Henry in captivity was one Ava couldn’t stomach. She battled a wave of nausea as she tried to focus. “Are you going to keep me here? Locked up?”
“If Henry is being tortured somewhere like you claim, aren’t you concerned about your safety?”
“Of course, which is why I need your help, but not the interrogation,” she snapped back.
“If the project you were working on fell into the wrong hands, the outcome could cause massive devastation to the U.S.” He took a second to clear his throat as he adjusted his bold red tie.
Was he kidding? “Which is kind of why we shouldn’t have been working on the project to begin with, don’t you think?” Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. Shit. Shit. Shit.
He stood up in one fast movement and was by her chair before she could blink. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she swallowed as she looked up at him. “What is it that you’re not telling me?” he asked, his voice resonating with an unspoken warning.
“Nothing, I swear. I—I just think that our project was a dangerous one.”
“Did you voice your concerns to anyone?”
She shook her head with a reaffirming no. “Of course not.” She tried to remain calm, but she wanted to shout at him, to scream at the top of her lungs. “Henry’s not a traitor. Evidently you think he did something wrong, but that’s not the case. I promise. He loved . . . loves his country.”
Something shifted in the man’s mood. He took a step back and was silent for a
few minutes. “If you hear anything from him, you must call us.”
“You’re letting me go?” she asked as her brows popped up in shock. “But you just said—”
“At the moment, we don’t think you are in danger.”
Oh God. What if terrorists are waiting at my apartment to snatch me up? “Henry is missing. The lab is empty. And I am not in danger? What is it that you aren’t telling me?”
“I can’t divulge any other information. I would like for you to take some time off from work until we rectify the situation. We’ll be in touch. Homeland will call you when they find a suitable job for you in Aberdeen. Consider your current assignment over.” He started for the door. “One of my agents will be in momentarily, and he’ll see that you get to your desired location.”
“But—” She watched the door close before she pressed her hands to her face. This has to be a nightmare, right?
Perhaps when she opened her eyes, she’d awake in her bed.
But instead, Ava was greeted by a black bag over her head—again.
Chapter Three
Ava couldn’t get herself to go inside her apartment building. Who knew what she might find? She still couldn’t believe the agent just let her go.
She thought about heading to the police station to file a missing person’s report on Henry but realized the stupidity of that. If Homeland Security and some top secret government group couldn’t find him, how could the Maryland police find him?
What do I do?
The agents had dropped her back off at Homeland Security, but they’d instructed her not to speak with Director Jeffrey right now. Even he was on a need-to-know basis. She wanted to ignore orders and go back to him, but she had the distinct feeling that the super spy agency was watching her. Part of her felt comforted by that thought while the other part was just creeped out.
She flirted with a short-lived temptation to call her parents, who lived in L.A., but she knew they couldn’t help, and they’d just worry too much. Other than that, she had no one to turn to. Her coworkers at the lab weren’t real friends. And Becca was on her way home today. Ava checked her watch, realizing that her friend’s flight had just taken off. Ugh.
She pushed her hand into her purse on the passenger seat, blindly searching for her phone. When she found her smartphone, her brows snapped together. “What the hell? I know I left this thing on.” She shook her head as she powered it on. The agents must have rummaged through her bag while she was being questioned and turned the phone off—but why?
The sudden buzzing of her phone alerted her to a voicemail—two messages, but there were no phone numbers attached to the voicemails. Weird.
She held the phone to her ear and listened to the first message.
“Hey, Ava. Crazy morning.” It was Eddie. “I got grilled by some creepy government agent about the lab. He recommended, more like instructed, that I take a much-needed vacation until this insanity is resolved. This is all surreal, but try not to worry. Anyways, I’ll be in touch.” She listened to the voicemail once more. Was he insane? He sounded like this was no big deal.
A vacation? Seriously?
She was ready to call him back right away but remembered she had one more message. Her shoulders slouched forward when she heard Kat’s voice. She was relieved Kat was okay, but she had hoped the message was from Henry.
“Hi, Ava. I’m assuming you know the lab is empty, and Henry is missing. After the agents questioned me, they told me to take some time off work. A vacation, maybe. Well, I guess I will talk to you later,” she said with a slight tremble in her voice.
Ava stared down at her phone, a puzzled expression forming, contorting the muscles in her face into a frenzied mess.
Two messages from her fellow lab assistants left within two minutes of each other, and eerily similar. And neither of their numbers had shown up. What in the hell was going on, and why weren’t they more worried?
Ava called both of them back, but the calls went straight to voicemail. She rested her forehead on her steering wheel as her brain clambered to make sense of what was going on.
Guilt slammed into her when a dim portion of her mind began to question whether Henry had wiped out the lab himself. “No.” She jerked her head upright. “It’s not possible,” she mumbled, starting her car.
She opened her visor and stared at her reflection. Her cheeks were almost crimson red with anger or maybe fear. A hollow pair of aquamarine eyes stared back at her. “What are you going to do, Ava?” She needed help and, apparently, food. Her cheekbones were a little more prominent than normal. Aside from the alcohol last night, when was the last time she’d eaten?
How can I think of food at a time like this? But if she didn’t fill her stomach with something soon, she knew she’d never be able to think straight.
Deciding what to do, Ava threw her car into reverse and left the apartment parking lot. She drove away from Aberdeen and toward Baltimore, in search of a place she’d never been to before. If terrorists were waiting to snatch her, she didn’t want to go to any of her regular hangouts.
She parked in front of some obscure internet and food café outside of Baltimore and checked her wallet for cash. She didn’t want to use her credit cards. Maybe she was paranoid, but her gut feeling was that Henry was in danger, which meant that she, too, wasn’t safe.
“Can I have a bagel, please?” she asked once inside the café.
“Anything else?” the barista asked her.
“Black coffee, please.” She paid and sat down in front of one of the computers. There were three in the café, and all were available.
“Excuse me?”
She looked up at the thirty-some-year-old man standing next to her chair. “Yes?”
“This might sound like a strange question, but are you—”
She didn’t let him finish. “No.” This wasn’t the first time someone had confused Ava for her sister. They were identical, but Ava would never parade down a runway in sexy lingerie. She preferred the modest bulk of a lab coat.
“But you look . . . you’re not dressed how I’d imagine, but I mean you look just like her. You sure you’re not just lying to me?” The guy raised a brow as his eyes flittered down to the curves of her breasts and back up to her mouth. She watched as his brown eyes seemed to darken with lust.
The same, self-conscious humiliation snuck up on her. Ava never wore anything even remotely sexy. She was boring. Purposefully plain. And still she was subjected to this.
Damn my twin.
“Seriously, you have the same hair, eyes, perfect features . . . and, um, body,” he said, tilting his head and staring at her chest again.
Oh my God. Leave me alone. “I’m busy if you don’t mind,” she said before redirecting her attention back to the computer screen. She finished typing Henry’s full name into Google.
“Here’s your bagel, miss.”
She looked up in relief to see the barista and not the gawking stranger at her side. “Thank you.” She took an eager bite of her bagel, which was smothered in cream cheese the way she liked it. Unlike her sister, she didn’t need to worry about photo shoots. Not that she was overweight—she worked out a few times a week. Her body cried out for the exercise after all the time she spent cooped up in the lab.
She inhaled the rest of her food and refocused on her search. Henry had never mentioned family, but she needed a place to start. She scoured through the results from the search engine, willing for a result—any result—that would help.
“Got you,” she said under her breath as she tapped the screen with her finger. It had taken a little digging, but she found a name. A sister. Sophia Davidson.
She Googled Sophia and got an instant hit—an address and photo. The image was a tad blurry. Judging by the graininess of the picture, the woman’s fringe bangs, and her blouse, the photo had been taken in the early eighties. Sophia was beautiful, though, with long, dark brown hair and green eyes. Or maybe blue.
So you’re Henry’s sister
, huh?
She checked the address but found only a family called the Jacobsons, who had resided in the home since 1983. Sophia must have lived there before them.
Frustration clawed at Ava as she spent the next twenty minutes trying different search terms and databases to uncover additional information on the mysterious woman.
She hadn’t wanted to use the hacking skills she’d picked up from her roommate at Berkeley, but eventually, she had no choice. She cross-referenced Sophia’s name with every hospital within a sixty-mile radius of the address that had accompanied the old picture.
Ava’s heart rate doubled when her name popped up in connection to a hospital in Poughkeepsie, New York.
She peeked over her shoulder, checking to make sure no one was watching her screen, and then quickly tapped at the keys, accessing the hospital’s database. After a few more minutes she was able to obtain a birth certificate.
Aiden Liam O’Connor. 1983. So, Henry has a nephew.
She examined the document, which must have been scanned into the hospital’s system at a later date. The father’s name was Liam O’Connor, but his place of birth and residence was in Dublin, Ireland. Are you still in Ireland?
There was no birth announcement in any of the local papers—weird.
She decided to turn her Google search to Sophia’s son, Aiden, hoping for a better result than she’d had with Sophia. But after clicking through dead end after dead end, she came up empty-handed. Damn. Who are you people? She combed her fingers through her hair, leaned back in her chair, and squeezed her eyes shut. Like mother, like son.
She opened her eyes and tapped at the keys. Guess I’ll try Liam. She bit her thumbnail and waited for the results.
“Finally.” Embarrassed for speaking out, she glanced around and spotted the man from earlier sitting at a nearby table. His eyes were on her. Did he see her use her ninja hacking skills? She didn’t think so.
She could feel the heat burning her cheeks as she redirected her attention to the archaic computer screen. Her search had pulled up an article published last July in The Boston Globe, about a bar that Liam O’Connor and his son, Aiden, had purchased and renovated. There was no picture of the two—just a photo of an Irish pub in a charming brownstone building. A flashy fluorescent green sign shone above its doors, like many of the pubs she’d seen on her visit to Ireland three summers ago.
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