Snapped

by Laura Griffin

  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.”

  “Had,” Sean said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “He had the engineering background. Before he was killed.”

  “Yes, well …” Maxwell floundered. “These college kids have a feel for what people want. A finger on the pulse of the market, you could say. That’s why we hire them, and sometimes offer them jobs after graduation.”

  “How about an example?” Allison asked. “For someone who doesn’t have her finger on the pulse of all that.”

  “Well, for instance, say you’re driving past a movie theater on the evening the new Matt damon movie comes out.” Maxwell leaned his elbows on his knees, warming to the topic. “You’ve used your phone in the past to look up movie times for some of the Jason Bourne films, so we know you’re a fan of the actor.”

  “You do?”

  “Our software stores the information digita
lly. Anyway, so now you’re driving by this theater, and the GPS on your phone sends a message to our software, which in turn checks the movie listings and overlaps that with your past movie preferences, and ping.”

  “Ping?”

  “You get an e-mail letting you know it’s opening night for a movie you might want to see. You can even buy your tickets with a few keystrokes.”

  It sounded invasive to Allison. “And what if you don’t want to be ‘pinged’ with this advertising?”

  “Some people don’t, which is why it’s optional. If you don’t want it, simply set the preferences on your phone to block the capability.”

  Allison jotted some notes. “So Eric was working on this?”

  “Well, this particular feature isn’t really new. He was working on some added functionality. Along with the rest of his team.”

  “And was any of this sensitive?” Allison asked. “The stuff Eric was working on?”

  “He was a college junior, Detective.”

  She looked at him expectantly.

  “In other words, no. We don’t let our interns have access to sensitive projects.”

  An electronic bell chimed. Allison glanced around for the source of the noise as a baritone voice came over an intercom.

  “Your nine o’clock appointment is here, sir,” the security guard announced.

  Maxwell smiled and stood up. “That takes care of your questions, I hope?”

  Allison traded looks with Sean. They were being dismissed. And she’d bet a thousand dollars this appointment was as phony as Maxwell’s persona.

  The guard was waiting in the reception room to escort them back to the exit. He took a route that bypassed the lobby, depriving Allison of the chance to get a look at Maxwell’s nine o’clock.

  They exited the glass-and-steel building and walked silently to the parking lot, where Sean had parked his battered Buick within dinging distance of the silver Land Rover that probably belonged to Maxwell.

  “What did you think?” Allison asked as Sean started the car. It was a hundred thousand degrees, and she reached over to crank up the A/C.

  “Interesting.”

  She sighed. “You want to be more specific?”

  “He didn’t like us there.”

  “I got that part. The question is, why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Sean pulled out of the lot while Allison looked out her window, admiring the landscaped office park with its hike-and-bike trails. Twenty acres on a hill overlooking the lake. D-Systems had to be doing well.

  She looked at Sean. “That software they make—sounds very Big Brother.”

  “Yep.” He glanced at her. “You know what D-Systems stands for, don’t you?”

  She waited.

  “Defense Systems. Their original name, back in the eighties. They were founded to do top-secret projects for the Pentagon, but funding dried up after the Cold War. They changed their name and started developing software and technology for the American consumer. Much more lucrative.”

  She looked at him, impressed. “You’ve checked into this.”

  “I’m an investigator.” He slanted a look at her. “That’s what I do.”

  “So, you think Eric was on to some top-secret project? Seems unlikely. I mean, he was an intern making four hundred bucks a week. He probably would have been a nobody over there if his death hadn’t made headlines.”

  “Just think it’s interesting.”

  Allison drummed her fingers on the door beside her. “You know, it isn’t what he said that bothers me, so much as what he didn’t.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Maxwell didn’t make a single comment about our case,” she said. “To most people, our investigation ended when Himmel put that gun in his mouth. So, why are we still going around asking questions about the victims?” She gazed out at the lake. “Just strikes me as weird, that’s all. He didn’t seem all that surprised to see us.”

  Maxwell watched the Buick wind its way up the drive. He took out his phone and dialed the number he’d been given for emergencies.

  “The police were just here,” Maxwell said.

  Silence.

  “Well?”

  “What did you tell them?” Sharpe asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t insult me,” Maxwell said. “But they were here, and I didn’t like their questions.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Goddamn it, this is getting out of control!”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he repeated, and the line went dead.

  Sophie woke in an empty room. It was eerily quiet, but darker than it had been the day before. The curtains were drawn. Her clothes were strewn across the floor. Jonah’s gun was gone from its place on the nightstand, and she felt a spurt of panic.

  She heard the door click, and he stepped in carrying a cardboard coffee cup in each hand and a small sack between his teeth. Sophie sat up. He deposited the cups on the dresser and tossed her the bag.

  “Breakfast,” he said.

  She put the bag on the nightstand without looking inside, then tucked the sheet under her arms as she eyed him critically. He was in the clothes he’d worn yesterday, including the holster. He didn’t look at all like someone who planned to hit the beach today.

  He checked his cell phone, muttered something, and stuffed it back in his pocket. Then he looked at her. “We need to get going.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “We are going back to San Marcos.”

  Calmly, she slipped out of bed and picked up her sarong. She wrapped it around herself like a towel before striding toward the bathroom.

  “I’m going to the beach today.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Have a safe trip.” She started to close the door on him, but he stuck his boot in the opening.

  She snatched her toothbrush off the counter, turned on the faucet, and started brushing her teeth. Jonah squeezed his way into the minuscule bathroom and stood behind her.

  “Do you mind?” She bumped him back so she could bend down to spit into the sink.

  A swift snap, and the sarong disappeared.

  “Hey!” She glared at him over her shoulder, but he was too busy looking at her in the mirror. He lifted her arms up and examined her body. The bruises had taken on a sickly green hue, and Sophie pulled her arms down.

  “How are you feeling?”

  The concern in his voice made her stomach flutter. “I’m fine.”

  “Did you take one of your pills?”

  “Not yet.”

  He disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a cup of coffee. He held a blue pill in his big palm.

  “Thank you.”

  She downed it with a sip of coffee, reconsidering her strategy. He was acting all sensitive now, and it was going to be tougher to argue with him—which was probably why he was doing it.

  His hands settled on her hips, and his gaze met hers in the mirror.

  “I understand why you came down here,” he said.

  She didn’t reply.

  “You’re freaked out, and you needed to pull it together. I was mad at first, but I get it now.” He looked at her steadily. “You should be freaked out, Sophie. Someone planted a bomb in your car.”

  Her stomach clenched. “Is that confirmed?”

  “As of this morning, yes. They found traces of residue at the crash scene. The explosion was intentional.”

  “I could have told you that. I did tell you. I told everyone there—that person ran me off the road.”

  Jonah nodded. “Probably the same person who drove Jim Himmel’s car to campus. This person left it there, along with a box full of extra equipment—a knife, a gun, grenades—that Himmel never intended to use. This is the person you saw, Sophie. He wants to emphasize the whole idea of the crazed gunman up there shooting people at random before killing himself. But there was nothing random about it. It was a targeted hit.”


  Sophie watched him in the mirror. A lump formed in her throat. He was talking to her candidly, like a real person, not some outsider who couldn’t be let in on any information.

  And he believed her.

  “Who was the target?” she asked.

  “We’ve got some ideas on that. You can help us.”

  “I can?” She turned to look at him over her shoulder.

  “I’ve got you an appointment with a forensic artist today at one o’clock. She’s the one who did the postmortem drawing of Himmel.”

  “But—”

  “She’s the best there is, and Reynolds offered to spring for the expense. The task force needs your input, Sophie. If you saw anything, even briefly, this artist can probably get a sketch.” He waited a beat. “It would really help the investigation.”

  “It would also help you get me up to your deer lease.” She turned to face him, grabbing a towel off the rack as she did so because it felt strange having this conversation while she was naked and he was fully dressed. She leaned back against the sink and held the towel over herself.

  He looked annoyed by her sudden modesty. “What have you got against a deer lease, anyway? I can come out there at night when I get off work. And compared to this rat hole, it’s practically a resort.”

  “I don’t care about that,” she said, although she did. Her father and brothers had a deer lease, and primitive was an understatement. “It’s your dad.”

  Jonah’s brow furrowed. “What about him?”

  “I met him the other day at your house. Didn’t he tell you? He came by with his tomatoes, Jonah.”

  “So?” He looked baffled.

  “He’s retired. He’s old. And he’s so sweet and— Why are you laughing?”

  Jonah leaned back against the wall, silently cracking up.