by Mia Faith
He kissed her once more, then slipped out the same window he’d slipped in through. Frowning, Shelly made a note to herself to beef up security. If people could just be slipping in and out of a window in the Head of Security’s office, then they were seriously not doing a good job.
Falling back into her chair, she let herself smile. She’d worry about the security stuff later. Right now, everything was fine.
When she looked at her Picasso again, she noticed a note he’d left for her. “I stole something prettier than a Picasso.”
She let out a pleased laugh, giddy with the compliment.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The following day, Shelly had a little extra skip in her step as she headed into work. Sure, reporters were still dogging her and her boss was giving her hell as were the museums who had her system, but she was in a good mood after the previous day. Colin had given her something that no one else had given her in a while. The sense that she was beautiful as a woman, but still smart and successful. They said that the greatest aphrodisiac out there was to be wanted by someone else and Shelly fully believed in that right now.
Even when it’s the Maitre, your arch nemesis? Her mind wondered idly.
She tried to shove that thought aside, unwilling to let it ruin her mood. Sure, she was seeing—were they dating?—the man who was on the opposite side of the law as her. And sure, he was causing her all kinds of problems with his breaking into her system, but they could figure this all out. She was sure he wouldn’t break into any more of her museums now that they were together.
Or, well, she thought they were together. Maybe.
She hoped they were, because she’d canceled her appointment with the sketch artist yesterday. She was still the only person who actually knew what the Maitre looked like, but she couldn’t make herself use that information. Not yet. Not now that they had connected like this. She needed to see where this went before she made any decision like that.
“Ms. Hartness,” called Greg as Shelly headed to her office. “Wait up. You should see this.”
“Not now. I haven’t finished my coffee.”
She tried to wave him off, but he wasn’t having it. Whatever it was, Greg clearly thought it was important.
“You really should see this.”
She sighed and let Greg catch up with her. He handed her a newspaper, today’s apparently, and she read the front page news. Then nearly dropped her coffee. “It’s not possible.”
“Sorry, boss,” Greg said sincerely. “It’s another one. The one over in Cali this time.”
“Goddamnit!”
Shelly threw the paper back at Greg angrily, who fumbled as he caught it. Then she stomped the rest of her way to the office. He made a move to follow her, but she stopped him at her door. “Not right now. I need a minute. Get me every piece of information you have on what happened. I want it now.”
He nodded, his eyes a little wide, his eyebrows hiked high on his forehead. “You got it, boss.”
When he left, she slammed the door furiously. How could he do this to me?
She was so mad, she couldn’t see straight. She felt like she’d been such a fool. Stupid to think that he had honestly been interested in her, that he would reform and stop his wicked ways just because they were dating.
Her phone went off right then and it took everything she had not to throw it across the room in a fit of rage. Instead, she forced herself to look at the message. It was from an unknown number, but she instantly knew who it was.
Thanks for yesterday. Have some time today?
“You bastard,” she muttered and began texting him a reply angrily.
How could you? She demanded in her message. You have to stop this!
There was a long pause and Shelly wondered if he was going to message her back at all. Maybe now that they both realized firmly which side they were on, he would just walk away from her. Her stomach tied into angry knots at the thought of that and she secretly hoped he wouldn’t, though part of her thought it was probably for the best.
But then she got another message.
I’m sorry. But I can’t help it.
“Jesus,” she muttered, then texted him back. Then at least don’t rob museums with my systems!
The next message came almost immediately. But they ALL have your system now.
Feeling angry and defeated, she plopped down heavily into her desk chair and took a moment to wallow. Her life was falling apart and the first guy she had a real connection with in forever was the reason it was happening.
What the hell was she supposed to do?
She was trying to come up with some response for him when he sent her another text.
Have you ever thought that maybe I could teach you a thing or two about security?
She snorted to herself, then texted, Are you kidding? I’m the security, you’re the criminal, remember?
I prefer official Tester of Security Systems. It sounds more official.
Shelly rolled her eyes. You’re ridiculous.
But I’ve still broken into your systems. Which means I know their flaws better than you do. Maybe you should be taking advice from me on how to make them impenetrable.
For a moment, Shelly didn’t respond. She wanted to type him something snarky back about how she was the one that had gone to school and developed an artificial intelligence system for security that took information from real world scenarios to create an unbreakable system. But that was a lie. All of her hard work had come to nothing thanks to the Maitre and it was hard to deny that he was right in that light.
After all, he did know how to hack into her systems. Which meant, he knew where the flaws were.
Sighing, she texted him back. Alright. Maybe I’m interested. Will you tell me the weaknesses in my system?
A second later, she got another text. If I tell you that, then I’ll be out of a job.
Out of a job. She sighed. Because his job was breaking into places and stealing things. That was what he did for a living. And she was on the exact opposite side of that. It was her job to stop people like him from breaking in. If he wasn’t willing to give up his life of crime, was there even a remote possibility of a future with them?
Not likely. But there was a big part of her that still wanted to hope that maybe, somehow, they could work it out.
Which was why she asked him in a text, Would that be so bad?
If I asked you that same question, what would your answer be?
What do you mean? Shelly asked, a little confused.
If I asked, ‘would if be so bad if you lost your job because of me’ what would your answer be?
Her reaction was instant. She would be furious. So angry that she couldn’t see straight. She would be out for blood. Hell, until yesterday, she had been out to catch the Maitre. And it was because he was single-handedly ruining her career.
“But this is different,” she muttered aloud to her empty office. My job won’t get me arrested. Yours will.
There was a long pause, but eventually, he answered. Ah, so you’re asking me if I’m willing to give up everything and walk the straight and narrow for you?
I’m asking if a normal life would be so terrible.
It was the longest wait yet for him to respond to her and Shelly was on the verge of giving up hope that he would answer at all. But finally, he did.
I don’t have an answer, Shelly.
Shelly sighed. She didn’t have one either. All she knew was that they couldn’t be together if their jobs constantly put them at odds with one another. Something was going to have to give.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“The Hartness System boasts an impenetrable system, but now there have been three break-ins at different museums. How do you explain that?”
The man, young and eager with a fedora and a tweed coat on, shoved a recorder up towards Shelly’s face, anticipating an answer. His eyes flashed and there was a grin on his lips that only came when a hunter was closing in on its prey.
; Which was part of the reason that Shelly was so annoyed with him? This annoying young reporter was using the fact that her life was crumbling to his own advantage. That didn’t sound like a hunter to her.
Vulture, she thought.
“No comment,” she said as she made her way up the steps. There were others there, reports and the like, but most of them had kept their distance. She’d had several arrested the other day for harassing her, so they were wary of getting too close now. Unfortunately, it seemed like this eager beaver had missed the memo.
“C’mon, give me something I can use.”
“I said, no comment,” Shelly repeated.
She reached the top of the steps and was headed towards the entrance, but the reporter wasn’t taking no for an answer. He came around in front of her, blocking the door. “Don’t give me that crap. The Maitre has broken into three of your museums. Specifically, is he targeting you? There’s speculation that after the awards ceremony in LA that he’s out to prove that you’re a fraud—”
“I’m not a fraud,” she snapped at him, losing her patience. She regretted it immediately because he was grinning like he’d won a prize and she knew that his recorder was still going. Straightening out her blouse, she cleared her throat. “My system, at the time of its creation, proved to be impregnable. For the last five years, it has been the leader security technology—and you can ask anyone: it still is today. Do not mistake a valuable system that is learning from its mistakes for one that is incapable of mistakes. The Maitre is proving to be smart, but that doesn’t mean my system is fraudulent.”
“And is the Maitre out to get you specifically?” the reporter pressed, clearly thrilled with his luck. He was the only person to date to get a direct quote that went beyond the standard ‘no comment.’
Shelly smiled a tiny smile, trying to hold it in, but failing. Technically, yes, the Maitre was out to get her specifically. But not in the way everyone thought. “Although I’m sure I can’t say,” she began politely, “I presume the fact that he’s breaking into museums with my system in place is because all museums are now using my systems. It’s a testament to the Hartness System’s strength, not a mark of its weakness.”
With that, she pushed past the little weasel of a reporter and headed directly towards her office. She was probably going to regret that little interview later, but it was the best she could do after her little outburst.
And, she decided as an afterthought, it was mostly true, too. Her system wasn’t a fraud. But nothing lasts forever, right?
Shelly was still going over that in her mind when Greg caught up to her. She groaned. “Jesus, Greg, again? Do you ever have good news for me?”
He grinned, surprising her. “Actually, today I think I do.”
They walked together down the hall towards her office. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”
“I’ve got a few friends in the department in Scottsdale. They’ve been working with the Feds on the case since it’s across state lines now and is considered federal jurisdiction, right?”
Shelly nodded. “Sure.”
“Well, according to my buddy, the Feds are getting close.”
Shelly froze, surprising Greg who continued walking for a minute. He glanced back at her, stopping a few feet ahead.
“What do you mean, getting close?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Apparently, the Feds have a lead. They’re honing in on the Maitre. I don’t have all the gory details, but supposedly there’s been some recent evidence that’s linked him to an early case. One that might be enough to pin down who the bastard is.”
Shelly was hurrying down the hall towards her office while Greg continued. He seemed thrown off by her stopping and starting, but Shelly didn’t care. She had to get to the privacy of her office so that she could call Colin. She had to warn him. The Feds could be waltzing up to his doorstep at any second!
“See? Good news!” Greg called after her right before Shelly unceremoniously slammed the door in his face.
Realizing what she’d done, she jerked the door open and stuck her head out. “Sorry. I’ve just got to handle something right now. Make sure no one disturbs me until I say otherwise.”
Greg looked confused, his gaze wary and his mouth pulling into an uneven line. “O-kay. I’ll, uh, talk to you later?”
She nodded and closed the door again. He muttered something from the other side, but she ignored it. She had to get ahold of Colin. She tried texting him first, but she couldn’t wait for any response from him, so she tried calling his number next.
It rang and rang before going to voicemail.
“Oh, god, they’ve already found him,” she said in a panic.
Quickly, she tried calling again. Still nothing. This time, she left a message. “I’m worried. Call me back.”
…
The rest of the day, Shelly did work in a daze. She checked her phone very ten minutes, to make sure that it was on and that the volume was turned up. The phone was fine, but she hadn’t received any text messages or any return calls. It was starting to freak her out. She went through the motions at work, though she doubted how much she actually got done. Finally, she decided to leave early.
Greg watched in surprise as she headed out for the day. “Wow. I didn’t think you ever left early,” he commented.
“I’m not really feeling well.”
Frowning, he said, “You getting sick? It’s all the damn stress.”
She nodded. “Maybe.”
“Why don’t you take the day off? Call it a mental health day.”
“Maybe I will,” was all she said, then she waved him goodbye and headed out.
The guard detail had been removed at Shelly’s request as soon as she realized that the Maitre—Colin—wasn’t a physical threat to her person. Which meant that she was back to walking to and from work. Normally, that was a good thing, but this evening, it was horrible. Her mind wandered to all the things that could be happening to Colin.
Was he hurt? Had he been caught, arrested? Was he being interrogated, like in the movies with the dirty cops? Or had there been a shoot-out and now he was—?
She shook her head, determined not to think like that. “He’s fine,” she muttered to herself. “He has to be.”
As she walked home, she noticed that there weren’t a lot of people out. She’d left early enough that she’d caught that sweet spot between the lunch hour and quitting time. Normally, she’d kill for this time of day, but it only served to add to the bad feelings she was having. There was no one around to distract her from herself and her thoughts.
Turning a corner, she noticed a couple of guys leaning against the wall outside the public library. She gave them a cursory glance because there weren’t that many people out so she noticed the ones that were. But she dismissed them quickly. Just a couple of guys hanging out after work.
Continuing on, she began to get a bad feeling, however. Like someone was watching her.
She glanced behind her, noticing that the two men had pushed off from the wall and were now walking. They were still a ways back, so it was probably nothing, but the tiny hairs on the back of Shelly’s neck were standing on end. She couldn’t say why, but they were suddenly giving her a bad feeling about all of this.
Facing forward again, she discreetly picked up her pace, walking a little faster. She surreptitiously glanced behind her towards the men again and noticed that they were walking faster now and were closer to her.
Not good.
Feeling her heart begin to beat heavily in her chest, Shelly worked hard not to panic. Stay calm. Don’t let them know that you’re on to them, she told herself. But as she rounded the next corner, she ran. She took off as fast as her basic heels would let her, hoping to reach her apartment in time.
But then she heard the running behind her, too. She risked a glance back to see that one of the men was now running, too, trying to catch her.
Where’s the other one? She wondered right before she jerked
her head back around and collided with him. The second man. He reached his large arms out and grabbed her.
“No!” she cried out, hoping to get the attention of someone, anyone in the area.
“Don’t struggle!” the man hissed at her, but she only screamed again. “Damnit!” he said and slapped his hand over her mouth.
She struggled, trying to kick at him while attempting to wiggle free of his grasp. He grunted a few times, but she didn’t have a chance. A moment later his friend caught up to her, put a bag over her head, and together the two men picked her up. They hauled her into the back of a car. She heard the door slam after her and the engine rev.
“Jesus, she’s a live one,” she heard one of the men mutter.
The other one laughed. “Pretty little thing like that, too much to handle?”
“Shut up.”
They stopped talking then, turning up the volume on the radio instead. The car pulled out into traffic and all Shelly could hope was that they weren’t going to kill her.
…
Shelly couldn’t be sure how long they drove. An hour? An hour and a half? Maybe longer. It felt like an eternity to her, because she couldn’t see. They’d bound her wrists when she attempted an escape several minutes into their trip, and that left her with a bag over her head and her hands behind her back. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable trip she’d ever had. And every time she tried to ask them what they wanted and where they were going, the men would just turn up the radio. She was beginning to give up all hope when they slowed down.
Oh, god, please tell me this isn’t where they’re going to dump my body, she thought a little desperately.
She heard the doors open when they came to a stop and the car turned off. Then one of the men reached into the car and dragged her out of it.
“Where am I?” she tried again, her voice muffled by the bag. “Please, just let me go.”
“You’re fine,” one of the men said, but that was all he would say.
I seriously doubt it, she thought.
They walked her through what felt like an earthy path. It was moist beneath her feet and her heels tried to sink into the ground several times. They walked until she felt the terrain change to a more solid surface, concrete. Her heels began to click against the surface and it was a little easier to walk.