Where was Mason? She’d expected him to run out after her, maybe already firing off bullets. That would have been good. As a Plan B, considering her team was late. Instead of rescue, the gunman…robber…whatever this guy was, opened the trunk of the car. Was he going to sell her again?
“Get in.”
She reared back. “No way. You aren’t taking me anywhere.”
“You think he had nasty plans for you before? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” He flashed teeth at her in a way that resembled a wild animal fighting for his piece of meat.
Talia scrambled away and tried to run. He would probably shoot her, but she wasn’t going to just comply. Even if it resulted in her death, she couldn’t just do nothing. Coming with him had been the worst idea ever. Why didn’t she just let Mason take care of him?
Where was her team?
He grabbed her. Arms banded around her waist and he lifted her from her feet, then deposited her by the car.
Visions of that basement flashed in her mind, and she choked on a sob. The smell. The screams. She couldn’t go back there. She wanted to be strong enough. But she wasn’t.
Hot breath brushed her cheek. “Get in.”
She felt the gun press to her side and hitched a breath. She had one move left. After that she would be dead, or she would wish she was.
She turned around. Talia grabbed his elbows and brought her knee up, fast. Where it would hurt the most.
. . .
Mason followed the two of them almost right after they stepped outside. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it and focused instead on his pursuit.
Snowed by a pretty face once again. His dating history—the relationship with his wife notwithstanding—should have taught him that much. But life, or God, seemed insistent on reminding him one more time. Because apparently he hadn’t learned his lesson.
They were up ahead on the sidewalk. He’d had to frown. The gunman who’d attempted to rob the bank electronically dragged Talia along, all the way to a car parked on a side street. And she fought him the whole way to the rusty beater. She stumbled, clearly in distress. Wasn’t she his partner?
Mason didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t even know if any money had actually been taken from the bank at this point.
He followed them and stayed out of sight at a discreet distance. The gunman had a weapon pressed to Talia’s side. Running up behind them and loudly announcing himself, or just tackling the guy, might cause the gun to go off unintentionally. He didn’t want to surprise the guy into hurting or killing her.
He moved after the two of them all the way to the car where Talia kneed the guy. Mason winced in sympathy. He’d thought she was in on it.
But now the gunman was bent over, recovering from the force of her knee. Or trying to recover.
Mason came out from behind the dumpster. “Talia!”
She whirled around and ran to him. He held out his hand for her but kept his attention on the bank robber. He could hear the breathy cry as she raced over on those heels.
The bank robber started to lift his gun.
“Don’t!” He yelled the word as loud as he could, already taking steps toward the guy.
Talia grabbed his hand. He tugged her behind him, but then let go. She needed to stick close. He felt the touch of her hands on his back and realized she’d huddled behind him for protection. She was scared. A victim, and not the perpetrator in this incident. Only she snagged her hands in his shirt.
“Let go,” he ordered.
But the gunman had already chosen his next move. The man turned and ran away, down the alley.
Mason glanced back. “Stay here.”
He didn’t wait around for her response. He had to trust the fact she’d do as he ordered. Or she would get picked up by whatever law enforcement personnel arrived on scene first.
He had to capture and arrest this guy.
At the corner, he slowed a fraction. He didn’t want to get blindsided if the man had chosen to wait out of sight so he could attack Mason. A car horn blasted. Mason spotted the guy in the middle of traffic, two lanes going in both directions. He pulled his badge and prayed, even as he waited for a good-sized opening. Then he ran across the street.
The driver of a white construction truck honked his horn. Mason nearly glanced off the front bumper but managed to avoid getting hit.
Same on the other side. Narrow misses and honked horns.
He didn’t have time to explain, or apologize. Something he’d never liked about anyone else, as far as characteristics went. Some people seemed content to do whatever they wanted and deal with the fallout later. That wasn’t in his makeup. And yet now, he was the one doing it.
Mason jumped the curb on the far side and slid between two ladies. “Sorry.”
He chased the guy along the sidewalk to the alley he’d ducked down.
It was empty.
Mason went to the far end and looked both ways. He checked hiding spots the bank robber might have used and then tried the doors to the adjacent buildings. Nothing. He’d run—and fast.
Now he was gone.
Mason made his way back to the bank, past the car where Talia was supposed to have waited. A crowd of law enforcement and civilians crowded outside the bank. The manager saw him, and as he approached, pointed toward a couple of feds Mason knew.
Mason talked to the Secret Service agents who had responded, two guys from the office upstairs. He told them about the car the bank robber had abandoned. It needed to be impounded and gone through with tweezers. Surely some evidence lay inside.
Witness statements. Physical—and electronic—evidence. The rest of his day was going to involve a whole lot of grunt work. Mostly he figured there were good and not so good parts to any job, and everyone had to endure that balance.
Then he spotted her.
Talia clutched a phone to her ear and gestured widely with her free hand as she spoke to whoever was on the other end of the phone.
He trotted around a police officer escorting Crampton’s assistant. She clutched her hands to her chest, tissues balled in her grip. She spotted him. “Special Agent—”
He said, “One second,” and kept going. Mason moved in front of Talia.
She flinched the second she saw him out the corner of her eye. Then relaxed when she realized who it was. Anyone would be jumpy after something like this. Still, given how she’d acted since he met her a few hours ago, he couldn’t help thinking of the strong façade she showed the world. And that the reality underneath was comprised of something altogether more fragile.
He wanted to know what had happened. About as much as he wanted to know how to help her.
Mason needed to get her to open up to him. Would she tell him what she’d been through? He wanted to believe they could establish trust between them. But he had no idea if that would turn out to be anything. Maybe they would never see each other after today.
“I’ve got to go.” She hung up her phone before the caller could even reply. “I need my purse, I think it’s still behind the counter. My tablet…” She didn’t explain. But then she didn’t really need to, did she?
He nodded. “Let’s get your things, and then we can head back to my office.”
“I’m not going with you. My team is picking me up.”
“You won’t be here, because you need to give your statement to the Secret Service.” She knew procedure. Still, he felt the need to ease off on her a little bit. “It’s also lunchtime, and I’m hungry. So we’re going where my sandwich is.” Then he added, “I’ll make sure you get something.”
Just because she needed to provide him with a written statement of everything that had happened, and what she knew about it, didn’t mean they couldn’t both be comfortable during the process. And if she wasn’t who she said she was—if she really did have something to do with this—then maybe he could get her to relax enough she would let something slip.
Incriminate herself.
Talia touched
a hand to her stomach. “I don’t think I can eat anything.”
“Coffee?”
She nodded, then blew out a breath. “That was…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what that was.” Her fingers shook, threatening to send her phone to the sidewalk at her feet.
“Who was that guy?” They were getting ahead of things, and he’d have to ask her later—in an official capacity—but he wanted to know now.
“I have no idea. I’d never seen him before in my life.” Her face was open. No sign of subterfuge. Could he trust her expression as honest?
“He seemed to know who you were.”
He’d called her by name. He’d had some of the same hardware—or just the same skillset—that she had.
She bit her lip. “I know. That’s the part that worries me.”
Chapter 5
“What else did he say to you?”
Mason sat across from her in the conference room. The Secret Service office in Seattle was small—they didn’t need a huge detachment. Talia had met his boss. The assistant director was a bald Caucasian guy in his fifties who looked more the part of a jaded old homicide detective than someone rising in the ranks of a cutting edge federal agency.
She smoothed down the fold she’d made in the sub sandwich wrapper, then slid it ninety degrees and made another fold. “That’s all of it.”
Not much, as far as he was concerned, but it had to be enough because she had no intention of telling him more.
She had to check her tablet again, to see if Haley had come up with anything on the ID of the man whose photo she’d taken. There had been no word about that when she’d checked all her devices on the way over. Only a whole string of messages about the bank robbery. Lots of concern, in all caps, asking what was going on. Nothing about the ID.
“Talia.”
She didn’t want to, but she looked up. “Yes?”
“There’s more.” He paused. “You can trust me with it.”
When he looked at her like that, she wanted to. Talia had to bite back the urge to spill it all. But then she’d end up crying over the sandwich shop napkins. Her makeup would run. Mason would realize she was nothing but a horrifying mess. A blubbering lunatic who couldn’t get over what had happened. He’d wrap this up, a total professional, and then watch her walk away.
She shifted her hand on the table and her watch clinked against the surface. She looked at the face of it. Where was Victoria? How could it possibly take this long to get to the bank, realize she wasn’t there, and then drive here?
“Somewhere you need to be?”
She shook her head.
“Talk to me, Talia.”
She didn’t quit shaking her head.
Mason sighed.
She didn’t like disappointing him. The weight of it rested on her and threatened to buckle her under its pressure. “I don’t know who that guy was. I don’t know who put that money in my account, or why anyone wants to target me.”
“Maybe that’s true.”
He thought she was lying? Talia said, “I’m not lying.” She just wasn’t telling him the whole truth. She couldn’t, not until after she talked to Victoria.
“Who did you call?”
She frowned.
“Outside the bank, when I walked up to you. Who were you talking to?”
“My boss.”
“And he’s someone you talk to?”
“She.”
“Does your superior at the NSA know what this is about?”
Was he going to go above her head? “My boss isn’t NSA. She’s a Director with the State Department.” His brow furrowed, but she waved off his question. “I’m attached to the Northwest Counter-Terrorism Task Force.”
“So this is about terrorism?”
“I have no idea.” They’d been chasing someone with computer skills. A person who had sold VX gas to a militia in the Washington backwoods. But they’d caught Clare Norton, neutralizing that threat. Then they’d traced the money to fake scholarships for a research college just out of Portland.
She’d gotten too close.
That had to have been why hired men kidnapped her and delivered her to traffickers. People who would post her for sale on the dark web. As a hacker with government clearance, she’d fetched a high price.
Victoria had brokered a deal that meant she was the one who bought Talia back. Did the hacker know her boss had rescued her? She figured the person behind it was tech savvy enough, he knew exactly what had become of her.
“How did you get this bank assignment?”
“I wanted to do something…normal.”
The things she’d seen in captivity had stayed with her. In her head. She couldn’t get rid of them if she wanted to. She’d wanted to use her qualifications to do something solo. Get her confidence back. A quick win that would set her on track to who she’d been before her whole world was shattered.
And now—
A loud crash from the office made her yelp and spin around. She twisted her head so fast her neck tweaked. She hissed and couldn’t stop her shoulders from lifting as her body curled in on itself.
“Hey.” His voice was soft and right beside her.
She looked over at him, crouched beside her. Compassion written all over his face. He didn’t touch her, which was good. She wasn’t sure what she would do if his warm, strong fingers wrapped around hers. She wanted to be brave all by herself. Confident.
If he tried to help her she would just crumble.
Her fingers shook as she swept hair back from her face. This was so embarrassing. He’d seen her lose it, and now he was going to have more questions. Ones she did not want to answer.
Talia had to do this herself. She’d been targeted, and he was still messing with her.
“I don’t like that look.”
She shook her head. “Sorry I can’t make you feel better.” Did she even want to? It wasn’t up to her to relieve him of his concerns. He had no idea what had happened to her, and if she managed it herself, then he never would.
Where was her team? She needed to get out of here.
Mason stood. She saw the expression on his face before he turned away. Disappointed. But there had been no way to avoid that.
He was a strong man, one whose tendency was to protect and safeguard other people. Why else would he have become a Secret Service agent? She knew the type because she worked with agents like him every day. But in this, she didn’t need the help. She wasn’t about to let other people get caught up in the fallout of whatever this guy did next.
Mason pulled out his phone and occupied himself. Probably checking email—or Facebook messages from his mom. Then again, if that was his work phone then it probably wasn’t about social media. Real-time update emails would be more like it.
Normal stuff. The kind of things her team hated because it meant they were part of the federal behemoth.
More people she wasn’t about to allow to be hurt by this person.
She needed to do this alone. To solve it alone. Otherwise, she would never believe that she’d be strong enough to go up against him herself—strong enough to face her demons. And where would that get her? She’d be here in this place, stuck under the fear, for the rest of her life.
Talia couldn’t live like that. If she did, she wouldn’t survive it. She had to beat this, get past it.
She had to beat him.
Mason’s phone buzzed, still in his hand. “I need to go speak with the assistant director.”
Talia nodded. “Could I have my tablet?”
She needed to get going with this search. Bring the fight back to the arena where she had the most ability. Not to mention, ask her team what was taking them so long to get here. “I’d like to get to work while I wait.”
“No.” Mason turned, already at the door. “Sorry, but I can’t give you your tablet.”
She got up, fully prepared to argue her case.
He shut the door behind him before she could.
. .
.
“Well?”
Mason met his boss outside the assistant director’s office. “There’s something going on, but it’s not that she tried to steal money from that bank.”
Assistant Director Elliot Stanton leaned back in his chair. “You’d stake your career on that?”
If he did that, it would be a personal move made on a case that was personal. This was not. “When we’ve collated all the information and put together a report, I’ll let you know the findings.”
Diplomatic, yes. But this was about evidence, not his gut feeling that Talia had gone through some serious trauma. It was almost like she had PTSD.
The alternative was paranoia, and he just hadn’t gotten that sense from her.
“Very well.” His boss nodded in approval and looked down his long nose. The man was six-four and probably weighed one-seventy-five. There was a pool going on in the office of when he would finally crack and partake of the break room donuts, but so far they weren’t getting anywhere on it and the money was piling up. It could fund somebody’s vacation at this point.
“And the money from the theft?”
Mason said, “Nothing was actually stolen from the bank, according to our techs. The two million that was transferred to Talia’s account was put back, as she said it was, and the bank robber appears to have been bluffing. Our techs said there was nothing running on the phone he had that could possibly have penetrated the bank’s computer system.”
“So it was a nonstarter?”
“It appears that way.” And where did that lead them? A man who’d done nothing except wave a gun around and implicate Talia. That meant she’d been specifically targeted.
If she’d put the money back, did that mean the bank robber enacted his plan after she did so? Possibly as a reaction to the fact she’d immediately sent the money back.
It was worth a thought.
“The National Security Agency finally called me back.”
Mason felt his eyebrows rise. “Did they fill you in on Talia Matrice?”
“She joined the agency fifteen years ago.”
Third Hour Page 4