She hoped.
Their room at the new hotel was nearly identical to the last-complete with two double beds done in a generic beige print, greenish carpet and innocuous wall art flanking a central mirror. This time, though, Max had rented two adjoining rooms. While Raine sat cross-legged on one bed, he unlocked the connecting door and propped it open, mute testimony that he still considered her a flight risk.
She supposed it was an improvement over sharing one room, at the very least.
When a knock sounded at the door, she unfolded from the bed and stood, stifling a groan at the pull of bruises and sore muscles. “Pizza’s here.”
Max waved her back from the door and checked the peephole before unlatching the door. “Nope. It’s Ike.”
Before Raine could react to the cryptic statement, Max threw open the door and pulled a tall woman inside. “Hey, babe!”
“Hey, yourself!” The stranger grinned and stepped into Max’s arms. Their embrace lasted longer than dictated by simple friendship.
Long enough to have an ugly ache settling in the pit of Raine’s stomach.
The woman pushed away. “Let me look at you!” Her ten-second perusal gave Raine ample time for her own examination, and she wasn’t sure she liked what she saw.
The stranger was thin and looked whipcord strong. Her angular features were set off by a short cap of jet-black hair, and three gemstones winked in one ear. Her clothes were tight and black, and her boots had three-inch heels.
It should’ve looked overdone and foolish, but it worked, damn it. She looked slick and dangerous, and when Max half turned toward Raine, it became obvious that he and the woman made a striking couple.
Worse, the easy way they moved together made it clear that they were-or had been-exactly that.
“This is Ike,” Max said. “Short for Einstein. She’s a freelance information specialist. She’ll figure out who did what in your computer system, and when.”
“Oh.” Oh, hell, Raine thought. This was the “someone” he’d wanted her to meet.
She gave Ike a second look, hoping to mitigate her first impression now that she knew the woman was going to be part of the team.
Nope. Still didn’t like her, for no more reason than she looked good and nearly reeked of the self-confidence Raine so woefully lacked.
The faint sneer on Ike’s face suggested the instant dislike was mutual.
Falling back on false politeness, Raine crossed the room and held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ike.”
“Here, take this.” The woman slung two straps across Raine’s outstretched hand, nearly dropping her with the weight of a computer bag that had to be full of rocks. “And this.” A duffel followed before Ike turned back to the hallway and dragged a final bag inside.
The luggage was black and expensive, like the woman herself.
“That’s all of it.” Ike shut and locked the door to the hallway and took a quick look around the room. She pointed toward the small desk in the corner, where Raine had piled her sad stash of toiletries. “I’ll set up over here.” She cleared the sur face with a sweep of her arm, grabbed the rock-filled computer bag from Raine and swung it up as though it weighed nothing.
Within moments, she had assembled a computer station that looked like something out of a science-fiction movie. “Talk to me, Vasek. And talk fast, since you’ve only got me for forty-eight hours.”
“Pizza’s here,” he said apparently unaware-or not caring-that Ike had just completely taken over Raine’s space without a word.
Max dropped the pizzas on the bed nearest the darkening window and gestured for the others to join him. “Let’s eat while I bring you up to speed.”
Feeling excluded, Raine sat at the head of the bed, leaning back against the headboard with her legs crossed, wishing she could shower and change.
All she had left were the jeans and shirt she’d picked up that morning, but she was sore and bedraggled. She felt especially grungy in comparison to Ike, who scooted the desk chair over to the side of the bed and smiled in silent victory when Max grabbed a second chair and arranged it next to hers rather than sharing the bed with Raine.
“I gave Ike the general rundown over the phone,” he said. “Basically, we have five things to explain-the drug-related deaths, the fire, the airplane ticket, the database entries and the office bombing. I can think of three explanations that cover most or all of these events. One, the drug is a killer and someone is trying to cover up that fact in order to buy time.” By someone, Raine knew he meant her. She stiffened but didn’t bother to protest her innocence yet again-he either believed her or he didn’t. There was nothing else she could say. After a moment, he continued, “Two, the drug is a killer and someone-likely a bereaved family member or loved one-is out to get revenge on Raine and her employees. But that doesn’t explain the plane ticket or the database unless we stipulate that Raine knew Thriller use carries a risk, and was trying to cover it up.”
“Or three,” Raine snapped. “Someone is out to get me.”
“Not necessarily.” Ike reached for a slice of pizza. “Could be that they want your drug off the market and you’re merely collateral damage.”
Raine started to snarl a response, but checked herself because Ike was right, and at least her explanation didn’t start with the words the drug is a killer.
“I think we can rule out the first two options,” Max said. He shot Raine a look before he said, “While I’m willing to believe you might fudge some paperwork on behalf of career and company, and we both know you’re capable of taking off when things get tough, I don’t see you setting the fire or bombing your own office. It doesn’t play.”
Tired of defending herself, Raine said only, “Where does that leave us?”
“Trying to figure out what’s the real target here-you or Thriller,” Ike answered for Max. Ignoring the pizza, she balanced a small handheld computer in her palm and held the stylus poised. “So give us something to start with. Who has it in for you?”
Raine simply stared at her. “Who are you again, and how are you going to help?”
When Max drew breath to answer, Ike waved him quiet and said, “My official title is communications director of Boston General Hospital, but I dabble in providing information to outside clients, as well. I know a little bit about everything.” She reached over and patted the mean-looking laptop, which purred like an expensive sports car. “You give me an hour and a name, I’ll tell you things even their own families don’t know about them.”
Raine glanced at Max. “I wish you’d talked to me before hiring a consultant.”
“You’re my client, not my boss,” he said, expression shuttered. “You want me to figure out what happened with those women and your drug? Stay out of my way and let me do my job-which involves you answering Ike’s question.”
Stung, Raine said, “I don’t have any enemies.”
Ike’s lips curved. “Everyone has someone who doesn’t like them. You got a family member who thinks you got the inheritance he deserved? Bitter ex-husband? Psycho ex-lover? A former coworker? Fired employee? Think a little. You’d be surprised.”
“I doubt it.” At the uptick of one of Ike’s carefully shaped eyebrows, Raine blew out a breath and said, “Fine. Give me a few seconds to think.” As though she hadn’t been thinking about it for days now, trying to figure out who might be after her. Two minutes later, she was no closer to having a suggestion. She didn’t have many friends, but she didn’t have many enemies, either. She didn’t consider herself the sort to inspire strong emotions. Killing emotions.
She shrugged. “I haven’t got any family. I never knew my father, my mother lost custody when I was very young, and I grew up in the system. I haven’t kept in touch with any of the foster families I stayed with, and wouldn’t say I made much of an impression either way. Same with college and work. I’m…” Unremarkable, she wanted to say. Wishy-washy. But wasn’t that what she’d tried to combat these past few years? So instead she sa
id, “I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt me.”
“What about your ex-husband?” Max asked.
“Rory?” Raine paused to buy herself a moment. Then she shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not because I have any great faith in his moral fiber, but because this is too elaborate for him. It would’ve required too much planning. Too much effort.”
She pictured her ex-husband as she’d last seen him, the morning after the stupid bout of goodbye sex that had gotten her pregnant.
An aging musician she’d met waiting tables, Rory had never made it as a rocker, never managed to be anything else. He wasn’t a bad man, or an evil one. He’d tried to take care of her, tried to protect her from a world that had given her too few breaks. But he hadn’t been able to manage his own life, never mind theirs.
If their split hadn’t been amicable, it had been necessary once she’d grown up enough to realize that security without ambition wasn’t security at all.
Max was watching her intently. “Your ex might have resented the fact that you would have been a huge financial success if Thriller sales took off.”
“I still could be a success,” she countered. “I will be. Thriller is safe. You’ll see.” When Max raised an eyebrow and Ike smirked slightly, Raine grimaced. “Rory would be more likely to complain to his buddies over beers rather than actually do anything about it. Besides-” she shrugged “-when the money starts rolling in, I fully expect Rory to sue me for alimony. That’s his style.”
And she’d probably give it to him, partly for old times’ sake, partly out of guilt that she’d never intended to tell him about the pregnancy.
“Then who could be after you?” Max leaned forward, eyes intent on her. “Your old boss? You left Falco in the lurch when you took off. Think he’d want to get back at you?”
Raine shook her head. “Unlike some people, Erik forgave me without hesitation. He understood that sometimes it takes distance to put things in perspective. And no, before you ask, I can’t think of any coworkers or former employees who might have it in for me, either. I told you, I don’t have any enemies.”
“What about Jeff?” Max asked.
Ike’s eyes sharpened. “Who?”
“No,” Raine said immediately. “It’s not him.” More accurately, she didn’t want it to be him.
“Your receptionist seemed to think otherwise,” Max countered. “Tori said he’d been hanging out with the FDA investigators and computer techs way more than he normally did.”
And there had been two bodies recovered from her office, not three. Raine grimaced.
“Let Max and me decide who is and isn’t a suspect,” Ike ordered. “That’s why you’re paying us. What is his full name? Stats?”
Raine sighed, but didn’t bother protesting anymore. “Jeffrey Wells. He graduated with degrees from both MIT and Harvard last year, with every honor imaginable. I wouldn’t have been able to hire him, except he wanted a flexible schedule and had his heart set on a position at a start-up pharmaceutical company.”
Ike paused in her note-taking. “Why was the schedule important?”
“He’s got a younger brother with some medical problems. Jeff is-was?-putting Joey through school while they waited for a transplant.” Raine recalled the picture Jeff kept on his office desk and found herself wondering who had talked to his family. What had they said? Was Jeff dead or alive? She swallowed hard. “I still can’t believe-”
“I’ll check him out,” Ike interrupted. “Anyone else?” When Raine shook her head, Ike said, “Okay then, let’s look at our final option-corporate sabotage. Who would benefit from keeping Thriller off the market?”
“At least three other companies have comparable drugs in development,” Raine answered. “Pentium, TopCat and Pyramid. But the rumors say their versions aren’t nearly as effective as Thriller, and the nearest is at least a year away from being brought to the open market. I’m not sure what they’d gain from trying to-” She broke off and swallowed, struck anew by the sheer scope of what they were talking about. “God, can you even imagine it? Whoever it is, they’ve gone to a ton of trouble. Product tampering to kill those women, breaking into my place to change the computer records, then setting it on fire. Blowing up the office…” She trailed off as nausea swam in her gut at the awfulness of the list. “Who would do something like this? Why?”
“That’s what we need to figure out.” Ike slid her chair back toward the computer. “I’ll start looking at those companies, along with Jeff Wells.” She glanced at Max. “Anything else?”
“Get me the names and addresses of the dead women’s next of kin,” Max said. He stood, scooping up one of the two pizza boxes. “We’ll need to conduct interviews and figure out what the women had in common. We need to identify the risk factor connecting them.”
Irritation flared through Raine. “I’m telling you, Thriller is safe!”
He lifted one shoulder. “Whether they were killed by the drug or murder, there has to be a reason those particular women died. There’s some connection there. It’s up to me and Ike to find it.”
Raine lifted her chin. “And what will I be doing?”
Ike snorted. “Staying the hell out of my way, hopefully.”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Max said. Pizza box in hand, he backed toward the connecting door. “Both of you be ready to roll at 6:00 a.m. We’re registered under a safe name, but I don’t want to stay put any longer than necessary. Just in case.”
Raine stood and stalked past him into the other room. “Can I have a word with you?” When he followed, she shut the door. “What in the hell is going on here?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I think it’s better this way, don’t you? Besides, with William busy on other cases, I need an info tech to do the computer stuff.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need a baby-sitter.”
“Maybe I do.” The energy between them shifted, gaining an unexpected edge.
“Oh.” Heat flared, pooling hot and hard in her midsection as he leaned toward her, eyes intent. “I-”
“Sorry to interrupt, but I think you should see something,” Ike’s voice said from the doorway. Max and Raine froze, then stepped apart as Ike held up a computer disk in a jewel-toned case and raised an eyebrow in Raine’s direction. “Care to explain this?”
The label read Database Remote Access Software.
Chapter Seven
“Where did you find that?” Raine demanded, with an edge in her tone that set off all of Max’s warning buzzers.
“In the pocket of your blazer. You have anything else on you that we should know about?” Ike’s voice carried a similar edge.
Instincts humming on a faint twist of betrayal, Max crossed the room, took the disk from Ike and scowled at Raine. “This is the disk the computer tech handed you when we walked into your office. Why would he give you the access software?”
Raine shook her head. “I don’t know. He told me it was a backup copy of the clinical trial database. I didn’t look to make sure. Maybe he just reused the case?”
“There’s one way to find out.” Ike plucked the disk from Max’s fingers and retreated to the other room, where she clucked over her computer, talking to it like a trusted friend.
Max moved to follow. As he passed Raine, she snapped, “I’m not lying, damn it. What do I have to do to make you take me at my word?”
He stopped and looked down at her, noticing the purplish smudges beneath her eyes and damning himself for caring that she was exhausted and nearly at the end of her reserves. “To be honest, I’m not sure. But I know it’s going to take more than you telling the easy truth a few times.”
“Well, this is one of those times,” Ike said from the other room. “She’s right. It’s the clinical trial database.” Moments later, her voice climbed a notch. “Wait a minute. It’s time-stamped this morning.”
Max was at Ike’s side in an instant, leaning over her shoulder so he could see the laptop
screen. “As in, after the data ghosts were uploaded last night, but before the explosion kiboshed the entire system?”
“If we’re going on the theory that Ms. Montgomery’s home invader inputted the files, then yes.” Ike nodded without looking at him. “And before you ask, yes, I might be able to find the ghosts and backtrack them to their source. Maybe.” She frowned and tapped a few keys before glancing up at him. “What’re my priorities?”
Max muttered under his breath, knowing he only had Ike’s undivided attention for forty-eight hours. She’d gotten the time off from Boston General easily enough-the head administrator, Zachary Cage, had benefited from her information enough times that he was pretty lenient with her schedule. But she was booked for the weekend, starting Friday. Max would’ve used someone else, but she was the best.
And, he acknowledged, Ike was the antithesis of Raine. That might have had something to do with how hard he’d leaned on his old friend to drive down from Boston on short notice. He’d needed someone he trusted to buy him some space and remind him not to be an idiot.
Ike had been the originator of the term DIDS. If anyone could keep him from falling prey to a damsel with an agenda, it would be her.
“Hey.” Ike elbowed him. “Sometime today would be nice.”
“Sorry. Get me the info on the next of kin first, then see what you can dig up on Jeff Wells and the three drug companies Raine mentioned. Leave the database stuff for last, because it could be a hell of a lot of work.”
She nodded. “Will do, sexy pants.”
Max snorted at the reminder of a particularly embarrassing lab incident, and shook his head. “I’ll see you two first thing in the morning.”
He headed through the connecting door, then stopped and turned back to Raine. “Promise me that you’ll stay here with Ike until tomorrow.”
Raine narrowed her eyes. “Where are you going?”
One of the things he’d liked most about her in Boston was the combination of quiet reserve and a razor-sharp mind. Now that the quiet reserve was all but gone, the quick wit was almost irritating. Or so Max tried to tell himself.
Under the Microscope Page 8