Deep Dark

by Laura Griffin

  Laney put her computer to sleep and returned to the kitchen, this time for a look at her pantry.

  Her phone chimed. Butterflies flitted in her stomach as she retrieved it from her bag and stared down at Reed’s number. Should she answer it or not? She couldn’t decide.

  And then she decided she was being an idiot. She answered the phone.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.”

  She could tell from the background noise that he was in his car or maybe outside.

  “Are you alone?” he asked.

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to see if you’d like to have dinner.”

  The butterflies were back. “What, you mean now?”

  “Yeah, tonight.”

  She picked up a bottle cap from the counter and spun it around. He was asking her out. Right now. It sounded like a date, but it wasn’t. There was a tightness in his voice that told her something was wrong.

  So not a date, then. She spun the bottle cap some more and considered it.

  It was almost certainly a bad idea. They’d left things how they’d left them, and that was good. She had what she wanted, a clean break.

  Not that there had been anything to break, really. They’d spent a night together, which wasn’t exactly a relationship, but—

  “You there?”

  “I’m thinking,” she said.

  “You’re making this too hard, Laney. Have you had dinner or not?”

  “Not.”

  “Then have it with me.”

  He sounded so confident. Not at all like a man nursing a wounded ego, and Laney’s pulse picked up, because she liked that. Damn it, she was going to cave.

  “Where did you want to go?” she asked.

  “I was thinking Bangkok Palace.”

  It was her favorite restaurant. How on earth had he known that? Of course, he hadn’t. It was a lucky guess, probably because it happened to be in her neighborhood.

  “I prefer Jimmy’s,” she said. “It’s a little sports bar located—”

  “I know it. Okay, Jimmy’s it is. I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

  “Twenty,” she said. “And I’ll meet you there.”

  • • •

  Laney’s words from this morning ran through Reed’s mind again.

  What else did you want?

  It was a good question. What did he want? He wasn’t looking for a relationship. He hadn’t been. They’d spent the night together, and she’d let him off the hook, and he should be good with that. Relieved. But he wasn’t good or relieved, he was pissed.

  He wanted to see her alone again. He wanted to make her talk to him and spill her guts and tell him everything behind those dark, solemn looks.

  He walked into Jimmy’s and spotted her right away. She was perched on a stool at the far end of the bar and already had a beer in front of her, even though he was right on time. She wore a strappy black top—this one was cut lower than the others—and black jeans with biker boots. Reed stopped to watch her as she leaned forward to say something to the bartender.

  He watched her moves, her body. How had he ever thought she looked girlish? She was all woman. And he knew now that those slender arms were strong, and those legs were powerful enough to make him lose his mind. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to do this, but he wanted her again. Now. Tonight. He needed to rein in his thoughts before—

  Too late. Her gaze zeroed in on him as he crossed the bar. He reached her stool, and she watched him as she tipped back her beer.

  “You want to get a table?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  She motioned to the bartender to let him know they were moving, and Reed steered her to a booth. She ignored the menus tucked behind a green banker’s lamp.

  “What’s good here?” he asked.

  “Wings. But only if you like hot.”

  The waitress stopped by, and they both ordered wings. When she was gone, Laney leaned back against the seat and watched him, her expression unreadable. She wore heavy black eyeliner, and she’d used makeup to conceal the bruise on her forehead.

  She seemed content to let him kick off the conversation, so he started with what had to be on her mind.

  “How’s Edward doing?” he asked.

  “Same.”

  Same wasn’t good. Last Reed had checked, the man was in critical condition.

  “I talked to his brother a couple hours ago.” She turned her beer on the table. “He may need another surgery.”

  “His face?”

  “His kidney. It’s not responding like they wanted, so they might have to remove it, which is bad because he had kidney disease when he was a kid, so he’s down to one already. They may need to do a transplant.”

  Reed watched her talk, unsettled by the pain he heard in her voice. She obviously cared about this guy.

  “A transplant—that’s serious but survivable.”

  “I know.”

  The waitress brought over Reed’s beer.

  “You know, if he makes it, the feds are going to want to interview him,” Reed said.

  “They’re wasting their time. He won’t talk to them, not unless he’s doped up on painkillers or something. He hates cops.”

  “What about cops trying to solve his case?”

  “He probably won’t cooperate with them, either. He despises law enforcement.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s part of his antiauthoritarian philosophy. He hates all the federal antihacking laws, believes they’re a form of thought control because they dictate what sort of code people can and can’t write.” She turned her beer on the table. “Computer code is really just language, so limiting it or banning it is like banning free speech. Scream thinks cops, especially federal ones, are essentially the thought police.”

  “What about you?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a fair point. Any program I write is essentially numbers and letters. It’s a form of expression. Some people would even say it’s an art form, like poetry.”

  “No, what do you think about cops?” He very much wanted to know.

  “Depends,” she said. “Some are good, some aren’t.”

  The waitress appeared with two baskets of wings and dipping sauce. Reed watched Laney dig in.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She nodded at his plate.

  The wings were fire-hot, and he chased the first one down with a swig of Shiner.

  “How’s your investigation going?” she asked.

  He tipped his eyebrows up.

  “The murder investigation,” she clarified.

  “We’re making progress.”

  “I saw a news story that Isabella’s ex-husband was brought in for questioning?”

  “He was,” Reed said, keeping his tone neutral. It was a purely routine interview, and Reed knew he had Erika to thank for the carefully leaked news tidbit. It was a decent strategy, but she wouldn’t be able to keep the attention on the victim’s family for long, not with another homicide still so fresh in everyone’s mind. And the minute the press got wind of the Olivia Hollis connection, forget it.

  Laney wiped her hands on a napkin. “What is that, spin?”

  “What?”

  “It’s standard procedure to interview the husband,” she said. “So this focus-on-the-family thing, I’m guessing that’s something your ex-wife cooked up?”

  Reed stared at her. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  “I’ve been around investigations.” She picked up a wing and dipped it in sauce. “It won’t work, you know. At best, it buys you a couple days’ time.”

  He turned his attention to his food, not sure why he felt annoyed to hear her state the obvious. “We’re developing other suspects.”

  “When?”

&nb
sp; “Right now. As we speak.” As he sat here having a beer with the woman who’d rocked his world last night. The woman he couldn’t stop picturing naked. The woman whose soft, pleading sounds had been playing in his head all day.

  Meanwhile, Jay and Jordan were still at the station toiling away on the case.

  Laney was watching him now, her look intent. Could she read his thoughts? Just what he needed. Time to get to the point.

  “This thing with Edward Gantz, the FBI believes it has to do with his business,” Reed said. “They believe a corporation he hacked, or possibly one of his rivals, is out to kill him. Me? I believe they’re wrong.” He paused to watch her reaction. “Gantz’s phone records tell a different story.”

  She didn’t say anything or even move, but he could see her wheels turning.

  “Any ideas on that?” he asked.

  “Edward’s phone records,” she stated, her brow arched in disbelief.

  “That’s right.”

  She leaned back against the booth. “Edward has a no-contract phone. And I happen to know it’s virtually untraceable.”

  “Virtually?”

  “No, you’re right. It is untraceable.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Whose phone records are we talking about here?”

  Reed watched her. He’d succeeded in getting her back up, which was his first objective. His second objective was to pin her down. She’d lied to him multiple times. Some of it was by omission, but still he couldn’t let it go. Why wouldn’t she tell him the full truth?

  “Yesterday Gantz texted you,” he said. “He said he had something for you.”

  “I can’t believe this.” She shook her head and looked away. “You didn’t guess my favorite restaurant, you’ve been snooping through my goddamn phone, my emails. Violating my privacy. Have you pulled my credit card, too?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

  “You think?” He held her gaze. “Because from where I’m sitting, it seems totally believable. When you consider how we met.”

  Her eyes simmered, but she didn’t argue. She didn’t give a flip about privacy unless it was hers.

  “Gantz gave you his address and told you to come at nine,” he said. “You were early.”

  Fear crept into her eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “I believe Gantz’s attacker knows about you. I believe he knocked on Gantz’s door intending for him to think it was you. I believe that person planned to kill Gantz before you showed up to hear about whatever Gantz knew. And then, when the shooter entered his apartment looking for any evidence of it, he was surprised to find you already there.”

  Her face was pale, her eyes big with dread. But she didn’t look surprised.

  She’d known this or at least suspected it. All he was doing was confirming her fear that someone was spying on her communications. And that she was a key reason her friend was near death right now. He saw the pain on her face, but there was no getting around it, and it was better this way, like tearing off a Band-Aid.

  Or a strip of duct tape.

  “I asked you to back off this case, Laney. But you didn’t. I told you it was dangerous, and you ignored me. Now I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” He leaned forward. “Stay. The fuck. Away from this.”

  Something changed in her eyes. He watched it happen. The fear he’d been using to help drive home his point morphed into something else.

  Defiance.

  “You need me on this case, Reed, and don’t act like you don’t. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know about Mix.”

  “This thing goes way beyond that.”

  She scowled. “How?”

  “Think about it, Laney.” He stared her down, determined to get through to her. “What is the one thing that all these crimes have in common, including what happened to you and to Gantz? And it’s not a dating site.”

  She just looked at him.

  “This person is a hacker. Your boss said it himself—he inhabits the darknet.” Reed waited a beat. “So do you. Look at your job. Look at how you got that job in the first place. Don’t you see it?”

  “See what?”

  “You and this UNSUB operate in the same world. You crossed paths with him somewhere. You were one of his early targets, and you were lucky to survive that time, but now you’ve caught his attention again.”

  She was trying hard not to react, but he could tell his words were having an effect. He was scaring her, and he meant to. She was so damn headstrong, and he needed her to hear him.

  “What do you expect me to do, Reed? Just walk away?” She sounded angry now. “This investigation needs me, and we both know it. Who are you going to get to do what I’m doing? Jay? Paul?” She shook her head. “You don’t have the resources to find this guy. You don’t even know where to look.”

  “Wrong,” he said. “As of this morning, we’ve confirmed we’re dealing with a serial offender. We can get FBI resources. We can use Quantico.”

  She sneered. “Right. Your chief—the same guy who’s been trying to downplay this—is now suddenly willing to call in the cavalry?”

  “It might take some convincing, but yes, he will be.” Reed planned to make sure of it. “So we don’t need your help anymore, Laney. You or the Delphi Center.”

  The look in her eyes chilled. Her mouth compressed into a thin line.

  This date was going south fast. But it had never really been a date. From the moment he’d walked in here, he’d been working her into a corner, trying to force her to listen to him.

  She picked up her purse.

  “So that’s the end of the conversation?”

  She glared at him. “Nothing I say is going to change your mind, so why bother?”

  “Laney, you know I’m right.”

  She pulled her wallet, and his temper heated.

  “That’s it? Things get uncomfortable, so you’re leaving again?”

  The again part pissed her off. He could see it.

  She slapped some bills on the table and stood up. “You do your job, Reed. And I’ll do mine.”

  CHAPTER 23

  After Laney left him high and dry at the bar, he returned to the station house, hoping to work out his frustration on a mountain of reports. No dice. Around midnight, he drove home to his empty house, where his bottle of Jack was still out on the counter and Laney’s ice cream spoon sat beside the sink. He ignored everything and went to bed, but her scent was all over his sheets. Finally, he gave up on sleep and parked himself on the couch, where he watched ESPN and was luckily spared a recap of his investigation on the local news. He figured his luck wouldn’t last long, though, probably not past the morning staff meeting.

  When he arrived at work and saw Erika in the lobby, he knew he’d been right. She strode over and greeted him with a perky smile.

  “Good morning, detective.”

  “Hi.”

  “That’s it? ‘Hi’?” She batted her lashes at him. “How about a little thanks for the present I gave you yesterday?”

  “Thanks.”

  She followed him toward the elevators, and he halted. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have around other people.

  “Why are you here, Erika?”

  “I’ve got a meeting with the chief.” She tipped her head to the side and smiled. “How’s your little girlfriend?”

  Little. Erika was six feet in heels, which made her a head taller than Laney. But she was referring to age.

  “Who would that be?” He checked his watch.

  “The pretty young techie I met back at the crime scene?”

  Reed just looked at her. Had she actually met Laney? Reed hadn’t seen it. But then, he hadn’t been around Laney every second. He made a conscious effort to give her space when other people were around, someth
ing he seemed incapable of doing when they were alone.

  “Did you need something?” He checked his watch again. “I’ve got a meeting in five.”

  “So do I. I just wanted to mention, that nice media diversion I kindly provided for you? That’s not going to last.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “You might want to think about getting some actual suspects together. You know, before the case goes cold? We’ve got classes resuming at the university in two weeks.”

  “It’s on my calendar, honey. I’ll be sure to have things all wrapped up by then with a nice red bow.”

  “Stop being a smartass. I’m simply reminding you of the time frame. The mayor wants an arrest before school starts.”

  “Yeah? Well I’ve got three dead women to think about, so I’ve got a different time frame. I want an arrest before he does it again.”

  She watched him steadily. Shit. He’d just confirmed her suspicions. And she knew him too well for him to gloss over it.

  “That’s off the record,” he said.

  “You’re telling me that? Like I’m some reporter?” She shook her head. “You’re really amazing, you know that? I’m trying to help you. You guys are in some serious shit, Reed. You don’t have anything, do you? Not even a suspect.”

  “Erika.” He sighed. “Our team’s busting ass on this thing, working around the clock.”

  “I’m sure you are.” She gazed at him with fake sympathy. “Really, I can see it. You look tired, Reed. I’m sure it’s tough keeping up with those young members of your team, isn’t it?” She smiled sweetly. “But hey, good news for you—they have a pill for that.”

  Fuck the elevator. Reed took the stairs. He reached the bullpen and nearly bumped into Veronica charging out of the break room.

  “Whoa. Where’s the fire?”

  “Have you seen Hall?” she asked.

  “No. What’s wrong?”

  She cast a furtive look over Reed’s shoulder. “I just got the ballistics report back on that shooting,” she said in a low voice.

  “And?”

  “It isn’t good.”

  • • •