Charley wrinkled her nose. “I still don’t understand.”
“The neural network allows a person to mentally control the robot. Let’s say there is a situation we never foresaw, which could happen a lot, how would the robot know what to do? With the neural network, we, a person, soldier, whoever,” she waved a hand in the air, “could instruct the robot what to do through telepathy.”
“Gilly calls it a mental Wi-Fi,” Lucas chimed in.
“Okay, I’m beginning to understand. It all sounds very interesting and I can see why you like working on it. How or what is needed to make that happen?”
“Sensors on the robot, some programming, and a helmet or visor for the person controlling the robot with similar receptors that emit the brainwaves.”
Charley lifted one silk clad shoulder and let it drop. “That sounds like something Troy and his engineers could come up with on their own if they had been so inclined.”
Gilly smirked. Charley was good, knew there was more.
“So what is it?” Charley whined as if a girl waiting on baited breath for the big secret.
Lucas kneaded her shoulder, whispered in her ear. “Tell her.”
She inclined her head. “I don’t require a visor or helmet to emit the brainwaves.” There. It was out. Straightening her shoulders, she stood tall, and prepared for rejection.
“Oh my gosh! I think I’m getting a woody. That is so hot!” Waldo announced.
Leave it up to Waldo to break the tension in the room. She tried to hold it in but when Charley doubled over in a fit of laughter then Lucas and Mickey started laughing, she could not hold back. She giggled loud and uncontrollably, tears sprang to her eyes.
“Do they make female robots?” Waldo asked and another round of giggling ensued.
“So they were after you? Alive.”
She spun to face Mickey. “What?” Her voice squeaked with incredulity. “That’s ridiculous,” she denied.
The room went deathly silent. Mickey’s question sobered everyone and now all eyes were on her. She felt Lucas’s hand slip from her shoulder and watched him as he stuffed his hands into his back pockets. He refused to make eye contact with her, instead focused on the tops of his shoes.
“Lucas?”
He peered up from his feet, his face set in a hard mask, emotionless. “You already had that thought?”
He nodded once.
“And you didn’t bother to tell me? Damn you! How could you?” Gilly held her hand up palm out in front of his face. She shook her head. “If that were true then why call and threaten me to not deliver the robot?”
“Excuse me?” Both Lucas and Mickey closed in on her.
Uh. Oops! Trapped like a cat in a corner.
Lucas grabbed her upper arm and spun her around so she faced the hard set of his jaw. “What the hell do you mean you received a threatening call? What was the threat?”
“Yes, Gilly, please do tell.”
The cold, flat tone of her boss’s voice sent icy rivulets chasing down her spine. One man hot, the other cold, she felt trapped between hell and Antarctica.
“It was a man’s voice.” She swallowed the lump of regret for opening her big mouth and ’fessed up. “He said that if I delivered the robot, my boyfriend would be dead.”
“He’s already dead,” Mickey stated.
Gilly watched as the words replayed in his mind and clarity sank in. He turned his gaze to Lucas.
“Yes,” she whispered answering his unasked question then restrained from covering her ears as he rattled off a string of ear-numbing expletives.
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Doesn’t matter?” Lucas and Mickey squawked in unison.
“Fine. I admit it. I should have said something. I didn’t, so shoot me.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Lucas muttered.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. The guy is sitting in the other room.” She pointed at the two-way glass. “We can ask him.”
“We?” Mickey asked with one arched brow.
She swallowed her nervousness then lifted her chin. “Yes. We. I want, no, need to be part of the interview.”
Mickey glanced over at Charley who shrugged. “Works for me. Just let me set the tone and then you can come in as follow-up.”
Gilly nodded, grateful for her understanding and support.
“Well,” Charley said clapping her hands, “let’s get this show on the road.” With long, purposeful strides, she moved to the door, picking up a box from a table along the way.
“Cookies?” Waldo asked licking his lips.
Charley chuckled then turned and lifted the lid. All three of the men pulled out a cookie before she started to leave.
Hand on the knob, Charley looked back and spoke to her. “I’m envious of your talent. It would have been very beneficial at my former job.”
She smiled at the other woman feeling as if she just made a friend for life.
“I’ll be back to give you instructions before you join in the fun.” Charley turned and left the room.
* * * *
For over an hour, Gilly switched between plastering herself to the glass staring at the interrogation session between Charley and the owner of Robotics FX to pacing and listening to the questioning. Troy had not admitted to anything, nada. Could they be wrong? Could he truly be innocent?
“Will you please stand still? Your pacing is getting on my nerves.”
She stopped and looked at Mickey. “Why hasn’t he confessed, admitted anything?”
“Gilly, it’s only been an hour. Besides, Charley is subtle in her approach. No one will confess to wrongdoing out of the gate. She has to build him up to spilling the beans, ease him into it. Give her time. Charley is good.”
Yeah, well her nerves were about shattered. She wanted in the room, wanted to shake his hand and know that he murdered Jimmy and Daniel, and threatened Lucas.
“Did you hear that?” she asked and spun toward the interrogation room. Hands pressed against the glass, she looked over her shoulder at the three men seated in chairs of leaning against the wall. “He just revealed he participated in corporate espionage?” Her heart tapped a happy dance inside her chest as she waited and listened for him to admit more. “Thank goodness,” she whispered with her forehead resting against the two-way.
“She’s leaving the room? Why is she leaving the room?”
The door swung open and Charley stepped into the room. “Whew. I need a break.”
“But he’s cracking. Why would you leave him when he’s telling you stuff?”
Charley took a sip of the bottled water. “He is just getting started. Now it’s time to shuffle the deck and play a different hand. If you keep pushing with the same questions the same way, the answers will never change.”
Charley winked over at Mickey and to Gilly’s surprise, he grinned back. She always thought of Mickey as tough and somewhat stalwart. Yeah, he had a sense of humor but when it came to business, he was all work and no play.
“You ready to go in there?”
Sweat beaded on her upper lip as the thought of meeting Jimmy’s killer face-to-face sunk in. She touched her abdomen when a wave of queasiness flip-flopped in her belly. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“What about me?”
“No.” Everyone answered Lucas in unison.
He shrugged, but it was not a shrug of dismissal. The motion signified his patience to wait it out. If they did not succeed, Lucas believed he would. Gilly could read his thoughts, not that she had to. His body language spoke volumes. He wanted in the interview room not to talk with Troy, but to pound the heck out of his pretty face and get answers.
After Charley pulled her aside and gave her instructions on how to conduct herself in the interview, tips and tricks so the face and body gave nothing away, they discussed a list of questions Charley had prepared. Before picking up her notes from the table, Charley gripped her hand and spoke low.
“I know this is very personal to you, but do me
a favor, do yourself a favor, keep a barrier between you and him. Do not let it get personal. That’s what he wants and it would be unsuccessful in the long run.”
Gilly nodded.
One minute later, she stood in the gray room across the table from the man who stole her company’s information and murdered three other people.
“I believe you two know each other,” Charley said.
“No, we have never met,” Troy replied and got to his feet.
“No.” He was shorter than she had pictured, a good four inches under Lucas. “I’m Maureen Gillman, Jimmy Ross’s partner.”
Prepared for an onslaught of visions, Gilly held her breath and took the offered hand, letting Troy clasp it. Nothing. No, that could not be, she had to feel something, see something. Concentrating, opening herself up did not help. No visions. No violence. Not Troy.
* * * *
Gilly endured the interrogation session. The last thing Charley had to worry about was her showing any emotion. Troy High might be guilty of corporate espionage, a white-collar crime that will probably land him in some pretty and posh facility, but he was not their shooter. Jimmy’s killer was out there, on the loose, and still a threat to the people she loved. To Lucas.
“I’ve got to go—get some air,” she told Charley as soon as they stepped out of the interview room. Without giving her a chance to respond, Gilly sprinted down the long marble tiled hallway, shoving open the double glass doors at the end. Hand on her knees, she sucked in air and felt the sting of smog and car exhaust burn her lungs.
Her gut clenched with guilt, fear, and worry. Lucas. Standing, she shoved her hands in her pockets. When her fingers encountered the keys to her grandfather’s vehicle, she started walking and did not look back.
THIRTY-THREE
Lucas stood at the two-way glass and stared. Not at the man they all believed to be a three-time murderer, but at Gilly. His gaze intent on her face, he watched as she shook Troy’s hand. He waited.
Her face was blank, void of emotion. Either Gilly masked any sign of recognition, of visions extremely well or something was wrong. In the forty-five minutes she and Charley questioned and spoke with Troy High, his gaze remained on Gilly’s. Not once did she give away the turmoil that had to be going on inside her head, her heart.
The green-eyed monster reached out and took a firm hold of his heart, giving it a good squeeze. He swallowed the bile of jealousy and concentrated on Gilly. Even though she told him she did not say yes to Jimmy’s marriage proposal, nor would she have if he had still been alive, she had cared for him, worked closely with him. That involvement, however brief, would hurt like hell if she met the killer face-to-face. He should know. He wanted to rush the room and the man who sat there so prim looking and beat him to a bloody pulp. His hands fisted against the glass.
How did she hide the anger so well?
They were getting up to leave. Lucas straightened and masked his own emotions, a mixture of hatred, jealousy, and concern. He waited for Gilly to open the door and tell him everything she felt, saw, and read in the killer’s mind.
* * * *
“Where the hell is she?” Lucas asked in a panic. When Gilly had not returned ten minutes after she went for air, he went in search of her. Not only was Maureen nowhere in sight, but her grandfather’s truck was not in the parking lot.
“Shit!” He kicked the tire on Mickey’s car. “I knew I should not have given her the keys.”
He spun on his heel and stormed back inside the building. The viewing room door banged against the wall when he flung it open. “She’s gone,” he announced.
“What do you mean gone?”
“Well, don’t just stand there, go find her,” Waldo demanded from the corner.
“I intend to,” Lucas said through gritted teeth. “Why?” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Why did she bolt? What happened in there?” He directed his question to Charley.
“I don’t know. She gave no inclination that something was wrong.” Charley inhaled then let it out slowly.
“What?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“What?”
Mickey laid a hand on his shoulder. “Charley was just summarizing the interview for us.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I don’t believe Troy High is a murderer.”
Lucas took a sharp intake of breath. “What? That’s not possible.”
“Listen to her,” Mickey said. “This is Charley’s expertise and she knows what she’s talking about.”
“The guy is definitely a criminal, but he is not a killer.” Charley peered straight at him with clear blue eyes. “Did you watch Gilly, see her reaction to Troy?”
Lucas nodded.
“What did you see?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Me neither. Lucas, no one is that good at hiding emotions. If she felt anything, I…we would have known.”
She stepped to him and placed a small hand on his arm.
“You would have known.”
Hell, yes, he would have known! He had known. “Damn it! Where did she go? Why did she leave?”
“Why is easy.”
Lucas glanced over at his boss, waited for him to continue.
“She left to protect you.”
“She—” He clutched his head between his hands and tugged at his hair. “What the hell was she thinking? She didn’t bolt when she received the call, why now?”
Waldo chimed in. “Because now she knows the shooter that showed up at your place wanted you dead, not Jennifer and that shooter is not the boy in the other room.” He shrugged wide shoulders.
“Then who?”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass. The only thing I care about is finding Gilly and keeping her safe. She has three days before the robot has to be turned over to DARPA.”
“You think Gilly intends to deliver?”
Lucas considered the question. Yes, Gilly wanted to protect him and the logical reason as to why she took off. Would she still deliver the robot?
“We had an argument about coming here. She did not want to take the time, but I manipulated her into it. Anyway, she said that catching Jimmy’s killer was only half what she owed him. The other half was to finish the DARPA project.” Straightening, he grinned at Charley. “Oh yes, she intends to deliver that robot. She wants to catch the damn killer herself.”
“She probably believes that by leaving you behind, the killer would think you and she were no longer an item.”
“HA!” Lucas slapped his thigh. “No cold-blooded murderer would give a damn who he shot and whether I was her boyfriend or not. He would use the guilt to get her to rollover and do as he commanded.”
“Then she would walk right into his trap,” Mickey said, completing his own thought.
Lucas nodded. “Three days. We have to find her or the person behind this mess before then.”
* * * *
“What should I do now?” Gilly’s voice echoed off the inside of her grandfather’s 1967 Ford Bronco.
She needed a little time and distance from everyone she cared about. She had to make certain they were out of harm’s way while she finished the tweaks to DANGR. Then she had to figure out a way to get the robot delivered to DARPA without any repercussions.
“Great.” Tears blurred her vision. Gilly swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and focused on the highway.
Why was this happening to her? To Lucas? Why did someone kill Jimmy? She shoved at her unruly hair then raked it with her fingers. Did someone want her alive? For what? Were all these people dying or in danger because of her freakish nature?
“Damn!” Gilly slammed the palm of her hand against the steering wheel. “Once again this so-called gift wreaked havoc on my life.” After all these years of diligently keeping her freakish nature a secret from everyone, one little slip and all hell broke loose.
She rubbed at her forehead, desperate to put the puzzle together. “What had Lucas told he
r about Jimmy?” Sometimes men do stupid stuff to try to keep their women safe. Well, okay, that’s not verbatim, but that was the gist. Did Jimmy know something was wrong and that was why he left her the business?
Horns blasted behind her when she jerked the steering wheel to the right and took the exit ramp. “When in doubt, start at the beginning.”
After winding her way through the small side streets, Gilly parked a couple of blocks from the restaurant where Jimmy had proposed and died. As she slipped the keys to the Bronco into her pocket, she glanced left and right, then crossed the street and stepped onto the sidewalk. At the corner, she noticed crime scene tape. The fancy restaurant was still closed. Plywood covered the broken windows, tables still lay on their sides, and… Covering her mouth, she swallowed the taste of vomit that crept up in her throat at the site of Jimmy’s blood. “So much blood.”
Gilly bent down to pick up the chair and set it right when something blue caught her attention. Lying under the table in a pool of dried blood sat the little blue velvet box that once held her diamond. On her haunches, she held onto the edge of the tipped table and grasped the box. The contact of the velvet against her fingers sent a mishmash of images slamming into her.
In her mind, she saw Jimmy reach across the table for two and lift the lid on the clamshell box. Her heart fluttered just as it had that evening when he revealed a beautiful princess cut solitaire. He removed the ring out of its velvet case and held out his other hand for her. She swallowed hard and wiped her nervous, clammy palms. What would she say?
“Will you marry me?” Jimmy asked as he clasped her hand.
Like looking through a crystal ball, she watched herself smile and then listen to the squeal of tires and an engine gunning. Jimmy! She tried to tug her hand back, when she heard the crack, saw the bright orange flash of a shot, and Jimmy’s head exploded.
Gilly blinked, blinked again, and then replayed the image.
“No!” she cried out as she felt the killer’s presence.
She jumped and spun, drawing her weapon and shoving the muzzle against the man’s throat. Shit! She had been so lost in the vision she had blocked out her surroundings.
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