Covered in Darkness

by Heather Sunseri

  “So… On Liam’s Watch is okay?” I asked.

  “He’s going to be fine. Superficial cuts. The vet has already cleared him for light training tomorrow.”

  I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the texts I’d gotten from Romeo. I handed Declan the phone.

  He read through the texts. “Why would he do this?”

  “Because he’s crazy? Sociopathic? He gets off on manipulating me and others?” I unpacked the turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich Carrie Anne had sent and gave Declan half. “Have you been back to the farm? Was there much storm damage?”

  He took a bite of the sandwich. “Not much. Just some downed limbs. A gutter blew off the cottage on the back of the farm, according to David.”

  “The cottage? The cute one just inside the back gate?”

  He thought about it. “I guess it is cute, isn’t it? It needs so much work, I’ve never given it much thought. But yes, that one.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Nothing but random furniture and junk, currently. It needs to be cleaned out and remodeled.”

  “Hmm,” I said, taking another bite. I handed Declan the bag of chips. “Sounds like a fun project.”

  Declan lifted his eyebrows. “Is this something I don’t know about you? You like do-it-yourself projects?”

  “I’m just a sucker for taking something old and damaged and making it new again.”

  “Interesting. Well, we’ll take a walk, or a drive, and see the cottage the next chance we get. I think you’d like it.”

  “You kicking me out of the mansion?”

  He smiled. “Not a chance. But since I moved to the farm, I haven’t taken much time to update anything other than the main house and the working barns.” He tossed a chip into his mouth. “Back to the subject of Romeo… You’re not letting your guard down, right?”

  I cocked my head. “Hardly.” I thought about my conversation with Anya. Wondered if she’d be able to help me. But I kept that to myself for now—no point in discussing that investigation unless it produced something.

  “It’s a step in the right direction that you at least told me he texted,” Declan said. “Before, you might have withheld that information.”

  “Before, he would have been contacting me about one of my cases or to let me know he was watching me. This time he went after you. You needed to know that.”

  “Either way, I consider that progress.” He nodded toward the white bag. “I know Carrie Anne sent a pickle. Are you hiding it?”

  I smiled. At his desire for the pickle, and at the way he’d just handled me.

  Our relationship had progressed into something new, something stronger, since I’d almost burned to death in the cottage fire. And since he’d confided in me a bit about his past history as a contract intelligence expert.

  But it wasn’t Declan’s past that made me feel compelled to tell him more about Romeo. It was the fact that Romeo seemed to not like Declan, and I was growing afraid that Romeo might go after him. I wanted Declan on his guard.

  “You carrying?” I asked. I ran my fingers down his chest and felt around his waist.

  His lips curved into a sly grin. “You’re not even close, but you’re welcome to keep looking.”

  Over Declan’s shoulder, the governor appeared on the television. I quickly reached for the remote and turned up the volume.

  Declan feigned disappointment, so I reached in the bag and handed him the pickle. “This should cheer you up.”

  We both leaned against my desk and listened to what Governor Kale had to say.

  It was a short statement. He made no promises about how quickly Louisville’s power would be restored, and he didn’t speculate about the power grid in the surrounding counties. He simply informed everyone that a state of emergency had been declared for the affected areas, and that he had activated the National Guard to reinforce the police and other emergency workers, as well as to help with the needs of the hospitals.

  When he was done, Declan started cleaning up our mess from lunch. “That was short and sweet,” he said. “What’s he hiding?”

  “You’re quite perceptive, Mr. O’Roark.” I sat in one of my guest chairs. “Mac and I listened to a couple of Louisville Power executives feed us some bullshit about how the storm took down one of Louisville’s key substations, which started a chain reaction to all their other substations.”

  “Sounds reasonable. You’re not buying it?”

  “I still need to talk to Carson, but I’ve always been under the impression that the electric grid in the United States doesn’t work like that. Taking out one section of it doesn’t necessarily mean that other parts of the grid will go down with it. And if that were the case, why would it stop with just LP’s electric? Why didn’t it affect Indiana’s power right across the river?”

  “Okay, but why would the execs at Louisville Power make a false claim?”

  “I’m not sure—but Mac agreed with me that they seemed less than forthcoming.”

  “Who exactly did you speak with?”

  “Ryan Saltzman, the CEO, and Frank Gentry, the VP of Power Production. Ryan’s daughter, Blake, was there too. She’s their PR person, and is preparing a rosy statement about how a hard reboot of their system will get power back up within twenty-four hours.”

  “But if the substations are damaged, how will the hard reboot take care of restoring power?”

  I pointed at him with a smile. “Exactly. I asked them that precise question.”

  “And what did they say?”

  “Pretty much told me to leave the electricity business to them.”

  “Told you to piss off?”

  “More or less. But then I asked them why they brought their head of cyber security into the office, and though I might have imagined it, I could have sworn I saw a moment of panic on their faces.”

  “So what are you planning?”

  “About them? Not sure. I’m going to keep asking questions of my own experts. Try to get a better understanding of how our grid works for now. Beyond that, I’m going to make sure that law enforcement and medical facilities have everything they need to keep casualties to a minimum. And I’m going to touch base with other parts of the state to assess the needs there. After those storms, Louisville’s power outage isn’t the only problem Kentucky’s facing.”

  “Sounds like the commonwealth is in good hands.” His words were meant to lighten the mood in the room, but I knew Declan well enough to know he was thinking hard about what I had just said. He tossed our lunch trash into the garbage can, then wrapped his arms around me. “You need some sleep, Miss Fairfax.” He pressed my head against his chest. “You think you can get away from here at a reasonable time?”

  “I think so.” I pulled back. “As long as I feel like all our major concerns are getting addressed, and the governor has relaxed a bit, I can transfer all calls to my cell phone. The key thing is to make sure that emergency responders and law enforcement, including the National Guard, have what they need. They’re the ones doing the real work. Once they’re taken care of, all we can really do is wait.”

  “We both know how good you are at that.”

  Just as I smiled up at him, there was a knock at my office door.

  “Come in,” I said.

  Ty opened the door. “We’re ready for you in the fusion center.” He looked at Declan. “Hi, Declan.”

  “Hello, Ty. Can you make sure this one leaves at a decent time?” Declan crooked a finger under my chin. “She got little to no sleep last night, as I’m sure you didn’t either. You all could use some rest in case the power still isn’t back up tomorrow.”

  “You think I have the power to make her stop working?” Ty laughed. “Have you met Brooke Fairfax?”

  I looked up into Declan’s eyes. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” I had a feeling this situation was going to get much worse before it got better.

  “Hard to make good decisions on little sleep,” Declan said.

  “The
analysts who didn’t work last night have volunteered to man the fusion center tonight,” Ty added. “They’ll call us both if anything happens.”

  “Okay,” I said and pulled back from Declan. “As soon as I meet with Carson and Jude, I’ll head back to the farm. You can whip up some comfort food for dinner.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  Ty rolled his eyes. “You two are disgustingly cute. Brooke, I’ll see you in the fusion center.” He closed the door behind him.

  I smiled and kissed Declan. “And I’ll see you back at the farm.”

  “You still can’t say it, can you?”

  “Say what?” I looked down at his chest.

  “You can’t call Shaughnessy ‘home.’”

  Several beats passed before I met his gaze again.

  I was about to speak when Marti poked her head in. “Senator Thad Reiner is here to see you.”

  I stared. “Did he say why?”

  “No, but he’s in the conference room.”

  I faced Declan again. “I’d say that’s strange, but after the short conversation last night, it’s probably not a coincidence that the very politician who’s obsessed with the weakness of our power grid security shows up the morning after a major blackout.”

  “Especially since you don’t believe in coincidences.” He tapped my nose.

  “I guess I’d better go. And please watch out for signs of Romeo, Declan. I don’t like that he’s set his sights on you.”

  Declan opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. He leaned in and kissed me instead. “I’ll see you at home.”

  Chapter 8

  “Hello, Senator Reiner.”

  Senator Thad Reiner turned as I entered the fusion center conference room. Marti had cleaned up from lunch, but the smells of paninis and onions lingered.

  “This is my first time seeing the fusion center in action,” he said, pointing to the other side of the glass, where Jude, Carson, and Alli were all typing away at workstations. The screens were lit up with national news feeds and feeds from various parts of Kentucky.

  “What can we do for you, Senator?”

  “Oh, right. I’m sure y’all are extremely busy,” he said with a slight Kentucky twang.

  “We are, but we can make time. Please… sit.”

  Ty entered behind me. “Oh.” He stopped short when he saw the senator. “I didn’t realize—”

  “Senator, have you met Tyler Jamison? Ty is the deputy director of Homeland Security.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tyler.” The senator shook Ty’s hand.

  “Please, call me Ty.”

  I gestured to the chairs.

  The three of us sat, and the senator faced me. “Given the circumstances, I thought we should talk sooner rather than later.”

  “You wanted to speak to me about the security risks to our power grid.”

  “That’s right. And I think the power outage in Louisville has nothing to do with the storm.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked. I was hesitant to feed what could be simple paranoia—on both our parts.

  “I’ve studied the United States electric grid for years, Miss Fairfax, and though our grid is much safer today than it was five years ago, every day new threats arise. I don’t have to tell you just how many people there are in the world who would like to attack America in some way.”

  “Are you suggesting that the electric grid going down in Louisville is some sort of cyber attack?” Ty asked. “Something terrorist-related?”

  I attempted to keep my face neutral. I didn’t doubt that terrorists were constantly looking for ways to attack America, and I was confident that our grid was a target they’d love to hit. But I couldn’t help but wonder why a terrorist would pick a soft target like Louisville. That I hadn’t quite bought into—yet.

  “I’m suggesting it could be,” the senator said. He paused and took a breath. “Listen. The owners of the big power companies will all tell you that our grid is secure. They aren’t going to admit that they’re vulnerable, because in doing so, they would have to admit that they haven’t dedicated the necessary resources to properly secure the grid.”

  Ty and I traded looks.

  “For the same reason, if this is a cyber attack, they wouldn’t want to admit it,” Senator Reiner continued. “Because that would expose their failure. As a privately held company, LP would be looking at major problems across a number of fronts, from panicked stockholders to PR backlash to the very real threat of increased government regulations. The federal government is not going to stand back while terrorists discover ways to weaken our critical infrastructure. And LP’s stock would plummet if there’s even a suggestion that the government is coming in to take control.”

  Ty nodded. “And the feds might threaten to take control at even the suggestion that this might be the work of terrorists.”

  “And the stock price would plummet, even if it turned out later that there was no terrorist activity at all,” I said.

  “Exactly,” said Reiner. “And the top executives and shareholders alike would lose their proverbial shirts.”

  “Senator Reiner,” I said, “if you were head of Louisville Power right now, and you thought that terrorists might be behind the power failure, what would you do?”

  “Well, first, the power would have to be restored, of course. There’s no question that’s their first priority. But I’d also have all my cyber security experts working around the clock to examine all the computer and cyber activity that occurred shortly before the grid went down. If an attack did occur, I’m willing to bet someone in that company knows it.”

  “You really do believe that terrorists are behind this,” Ty said.

  “I’m just saying it’s a definite possibility.”

  “What did you make of that?” Ty asked when Senator Reiner was gone.

  “Either the good senator is a conspiracy theorist, or that bad feeling I had earlier just got a hundred times worse.”

  “What should we do?”

  “I think Declan was right.” I squared my shoulders. “We need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day.”

  Chapter 9

  I woke with a start and sat straight up in bed, breathing hard. The room was dark, and it took me several seconds to remember where I was. I had been dreaming about Romeo. He was standing in the dark shadows of a building—a barn at Kensington, I thought. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it was him, hanging out in the darkness. The whites of his eyes gleamed with a sense of longing for what he watched, studied, desired to control.

  Declan stirred beside me. He touched a hand to my arm, and I flinched.

  “I’m sorry,” I said when he pulled away.

  When he touched me again, his hand felt warm and smooth against my arm. “You okay?” he asked in a gruff voice.

  I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The clock glowed four a.m. “Yeah, sorry.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Go back to sleep.” I moved to get out of bed, but he grabbed my hand.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll be back. I’m just going to check on things.”

  The disappointment in his eyes, even there in the dark, was enough to make me rethink leaving. But the desire to get Romeo out of my head and to think about the rest of the world’s problems was greater.

  I slipped into a long silk robe, dropped my phone into the pocket, and climbed the spiral staircase to Declan’s office. On three different screens, I turned on CNN, Fox News, and MSNBC—all with the volume down low—to check out who was reporting what. I grabbed a blanket off the back of the leather sofa and curled up on one end, wrapping myself in the comfort while I studied the crawlers at the bottoms of the screens.

  All three stations were reporting that the electricity was still out in Louisville and that chaos was breaking out in the riverfront area. Looters were ransacking grocery stores and gas stations. The National Guard was making sure hospitals had what they needed, but it was proving to be more
difficult than they had anticipated, and they were stretched thin. And with the heat wave expected to continue today, Governor Mac Kale was worried about widespread heat stroke, especially among the elderly and the young, overwhelming medical facilities. He had ordered dozens of “cooling stations” to be set up inside giant army tents at parks throughout the city, powered by portable generators.

  CNN was hosting an expert who gave a rundown of all the risks that came from being without electricity for more than twenty-four hours. He painted a very smelly picture of how much food would be spoiled in people’s homes and inside all of the grocery stores and restaurants. Cell phone towers were now failing across the city, which meant people without a two-way radio or satphone were having more difficulty getting in touch with family and friends. Owners of cell towers were working to bring in portable generators now that the backup batteries on the towers had run out.

  Even fire, police, and medical professionals had trouble communicating with each other because of their disparate communications systems.

  “Interoperability,” I whispered.

  “Hey.”

  I jumped at the sound of Declan’s voice as he climbed the stairs. “They can’t communicate with each other,” I said, nodding toward the televisions.

  “Who?” He sat beside me. He was dressed only in pajama pants. I couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles were accentuated by a suntan left over from an extra-long summer.

  I shifted when he sat and draped my legs and the blanket across his lap. When he noticed I was staring at his chest, he smiled. “Enjoying the view, Miss Fairfax?”

  “Always,” I said, then pointed to the television. “But to answer your question: law enforcement and first responders in Louisville. They’re all on different types of radios. Police can communicate with each other, but not with the fire department. Ambulance drivers can communicate with hospitals, but not with police or fire. They don’t have interoperability. Different suppliers have equipped the different entities. You’d think they’d have learned from Hurricane Katrina and 9/11. This is horrible.” It was a problem I would have to deal with after this crisis was over. At least we might be better prepared in the future.