Christmas Data Breach

by K. D. Richards

  They declined Felix’s offer of water and settled in on the ancient leather couch. Felix pulled a chair from the kitchen into the living room and settled in across from them.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Mya said.

  “I guess I should be saying the same to you. God, I can’t believe it.” Tears pooled in Felix’s eyes. “I mean, I’ve never known anyone who was murdered before.”

  “It’s always difficult to lose a loved one. If you don’t mind, maybe you could tell us a little bit about Rebecca.”

  Lines formed across the curve of Felix’s nose. “What do you want to know?”

  “When was the last time you saw or spoke to her?”

  “The cops asked me that too. We spoke on the phone yesterday around 6:00 p.m. I’d gotten paid and was feeling like treating myself a little, so I stopped off at Francesca’s, an Italian place a couple blocks from here.” Felix snatched a tissue from a box on the coffee table between the couch and his chair. “I called Rebecca to see if she wanted me to grab her something for dinner. She loves...loved that place.”

  Gideon waited for Felix to blow his nose before continuing. “And did she?”

  “What?”

  Gideon beat back his impatience with the younger man and posed the question again. “Did Rebecca want anything from the restaurant?”

  “Oh, no. She said she wouldn’t be home until late.”

  Mya scooted to the edge of the couch. “Did she say why?”

  “No, but she sounded winded. I asked her if she was alright, and she said yeah, she was about to be as alright as anyone could possibly get.”

  “Did you ask what she meant by that?” Mya followed up.

  Felix shrugged. “Not really.”

  Gideon took out his phone. “Could you give me her phone number?”

  “Rebecca’s number?”

  At Gideon’s nod, Felix rattled off a phone number. Gideon entered the number on his phone.

  “Rebecca was cool, but she always had something going on, you know.”

  He saw Mya glance at him out of the corner of her eye before she asked, “Something like what?”

  Felix’s gaze skittered to the front door. “I don’t know, really.”

  Gideon leaned forward, keeping his eyes trained on Felix for several uncomfortable seconds before Felix finally met his gaze. “You must have meant something.”

  “I don’t want to talk bad about the dead.”

  “Mr. Ucar, I don’t know if the police mentioned it, but Rebecca was found in the basement of my house. She may have been a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If that’s the case, my life could be in danger. If you know something that could help us figure out who killed Rebecca, please, you’ve got to tell us.”

  Felix sighed. “I don’t know anything. Not for sure. Rebecca was a nice girl and supersmart, but she wanted more than she was willing to work for—you know what I mean?”

  “Not exactly,” Mya’s expression reflected her confusion. “Rebecca was a really good worker.”

  “Sure, sure.” Felix waved the hand holding the used tissue absently. “But I mean, she was always looking for easy riches, you know. Like she tried selling travel club shares.”

  His lips twisted with displeasure. Felix clearly didn’t think much of Rebecca’s career choice.

  “What are travel shares?” Mya asked.

  Felix rolled his eyes. “I told her it sounded like a pyramid scheme, and like, everybody we know is in school or just graduated. Who has the time or money to travel? But Rebecca just said that was the beauty of it because by pooling our money, we would all save and get to go to cool places.”

  “I take it the venture wasn’t successful.”

  Felix snorted. “Ah, no. She got the job at your lab not long after. I think she had to buy a bunch of the travel shares to get started with the company, and she needed the job at your lab to pay off the debt.”

  “Rebecca only worked at the lab part-time. She probably would have made more as a research assistant to a professor on campus.”

  Felix tilted his head to one side. “They only hire students for those positions.”

  Gideon stole a glance at Mya before addressing Felix. “Rebecca wasn’t a student?”

  “I mean, she used to be. That’s how we met. I needed a roommate, and she answered an ad I posted in a student’s only chat. But I don’t think Rebecca finished a whole year. And I know for a fact she wasn’t currently enrolled.”

  “What did she study while she was in school?”

  “She was an English major. That’s another reason I was surprised she took the job at your lab, but I guess a job is a job. I work at a bakery. I don’t even like sweets.”

  That would explain why Rebecca hadn’t known as much about chemistry as Mya had expected. It also raised the question of why she’d been so interested in Mya’s research.

  “If you’re working at a bakery and Rebecca had debts to pay off, how did you two swing that new flat-screen?” Gideon motioned toward the television.

  Felix raised a hand as if on a swear. “I didn’t afford it. That’s all Rebecca.”

  Gideon’s stare hardened on Felix’s face. The young man shifted nervously. “Look, when she came home with the new fancy coffee maker at the beginning of the month, I just figured she’d gotten her Christmas bonus early or something.”

  Gideon glanced at Mya. She shook her head in the negative. If Rebecca had come into some extra money, it hadn’t come from her job at the lab.

  “But then the TV showed up,” Felix continued. “No way a bonus paid for that.”

  “Did you ask her about it?” Gideon pressed.

  “Yeah, I mean, of course.” Felix scratched his nose. “She just said not to worry about it. Her exact words were, ‘it didn’t fall off the back of a truck.’ And she laughed.”

  “And that didn’t make you suspicious?”

  “Look, I pegged this as a don’t ask, don’t tell kind of situation. I got to watch a flat-screen instead of the old clunker I got in my room, and Rebecca paid for cable.”

  Felix had little else to add, and they wrapped up the conversation minutes later.

  “Now what?” Mya asked when they were back in the car.

  “Now we find out where Rebecca got her influx of cash.”

  Mya’s phone rang.

  “It’s Brian,” she said, answering the phone on speaker. “I’m sorry. I haven’t found us a lab space yet. Actually, I don’t know when I’ll be able to do that. Have you spoken to the police?”

  “They called, but I didn’t answer. I don’t know anything about the fire.” Brian’s words came out in a rush.

  “Brian, I’ve got some bad news—”

  Gideon laid a hand over Mya’s. He shook his head when she looked his way. He didn’t want her to mention Rebecca’s death if Brian didn’t already know. Gideon wanted to speak to the man in person and gauge his response.

  “Ask him to meet you,” he mouthed silently to Mya.

  She frowned and spoke into the phone, “Where are you? Can you meet me somewhere now? There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “I—I can’t right now.” Tension oozed from the voice on the other end of the phone. Brian had been anxious when they’d run into him in the TriGen parking lot earlier that morning, but this was next level.

  Gideon couldn’t help but wonder what had gotten the man into such a state.

  “Meet me at 1:00 p.m. tomorrow at Prospect Park,” Brian said.

  “Can’t you meet sooner? It really is—” The line went dead. “Important,” Mya finished to dead air.

  “That was strange.” Mya tucked her phone back into her purse.

  “He’s hiding from the police.” Gideon guided the Tahoe through the streets toward his house.

  “I would
n’t say hiding.”

  He glanced across the car at her. “I would, and did. You can bet Kamal has been looking for Brian. If he hasn’t spoken to the police yet, it’s because he doesn’t want to. What I want to know is why?”

  Mya massaged her temples in the seat next to him. “There’s got to be a reasonable explanation.”

  Gideon worked his jaw. For Brian Leeds’s sake, he hoped so.

  Chapter Nine

  Mya opened her eyes and blinked at the darkness. She’d gone straight to the guest room, pleading exhaustion, when she and Gideon made it back to his house. She’d intended to rest for only a few minutes. But when she rolled to her side, the clock on the bedside table read 7:20. She’d slept for nearly an hour.

  Mya stretched and swung her legs over the side of the bed. It was both strange and familiar waking up in Gideon’s childhood bedroom. She and Gideon had had hundreds of sleepovers in this room growing up. As a single mother, Francine Rochon had had to work two and sometimes three jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Grandma Pearl had stepped up to help, becoming as much of a grandmother to Mya as she was to Gideon—picking both kids up from school, providing dinner, and ensuring homework got done. Grandma Pearl had always waved away the few dollars Francine tried to pay for babysitting saying it was easier to watch two kids than one. But Pearl’s heart had so much love inside she couldn’t stop it from spilling over onto anyone who came into her orbit. Mya had cried for a full week when Pearl died.

  Mya splashed some water on her face and descended the stairs, the smell of lemon and rosemary beckoning. She’d noted the renovations that Gideon had done on the house earlier, but now she noticed just how much he had changed.

  Grandma Pearl’s design esthetic had encompassed color, bold prints and eclectic furnishings. Every room had been a different color, and the couches, tables and shelves had been a mishmash of thrift store finds and handed-down antiques. House plants sat on every surface and in every corner. And pictures of Gideon, his father and even one or two of Mya had smiled out from frames in every room. Pearl’s home had been awash in life.

  Gideon’s tastes appeared to run completely counter to his grandmother’s. Seemingly every wall in the house was painted a builders’ grade gray, designed to be pleasing to the greatest number of people possible. The living room and dining room were showroom perfect without a single painting on the walls or a photograph in sight. It didn’t look as if Gideon had ever so much as set foot in either room.

  Mya headed for the kitchen expecting to find Gideon there and was surprised to find it empty. The lemon smell led her to the oven where a roasted vegetable medley warmed.

  Through the French doors leading onto the patio, she watched a light snowfall leaving a mist of white on the patio table and chairs. Gideon stood in front of a propane grill in a thick black sweater.

  He glanced her way, his gaze landing on hers with enough interest that her entire body flushed hot. He hadn’t lost his ability to say more with a look than most men could with a thousand words, but she no longer trusted herself to interpret his expressions.

  Something intense flared in his eyes—desire? Or was that only wishful thinking?

  Gideon had been nothing but professional since she’d shown up uninvited and in a truckload of trouble on his doorstep. And yet, she couldn’t help but wonder if, despite everything, this could be the start of a second chance for them. She hadn’t known what to say when he’d asked for a divorce years ago, and if she was honest, pride had played a part in not fighting for their marriage after he walked out. But, at this moment, it was clear to her. What she wanted. Gideon.

  Something on the grill sizzled violently, drawing Gideon’s attention and breaking the moment.

  She grabbed the white afghan from the back of the living room couch, and wrapped it around her shoulders before stepping out onto the patio.

  “It’s freezing out here,” she said, taking a half step away from the door.

  Gideon shot an amused look over his shoulder. “Then go back inside.”

  She ignored him. “Can I ask why you’re grilling in subzero temperatures?”

  “It’s not that bad.” He turned back to the meat on the grill. “I felt like steak tonight, and the only way to properly cook steak is on a grill.”

  “There are thousands of restaurants that would disagree with you,” Mya answered, pulling the afghan more tightly around her.

  Gideon shot another look over his shoulder. “Then there are thousands of restaurants doing it wrong.” He clicked the tongs in his hand. “Go back inside. Relax. Meat is almost done. I’ll be in in a minute.”

  Mya frowned. She didn’t enjoy being ordered around, but she wasn’t an outdoorsy person under the best of conditions. And freezing temperatures and snow were far from the best of conditions, in her opinion.

  She went back inside but ignored Gideon’s instruction to relax. She headed for the small wine rack tucked under the countertop island and pulled out a merlot to go with dinner.

  She opened cabinets until she found his wineglasses and poured them both a glass.

  The French doors opened, and Gideon stepped into the kitchen carrying a covered tray as she carried the glasses to the kitchen table.

  “That smells wonderful.”

  “Exactly. Cooked on a grill.” Gideon set the meat on the table and went to the oven for the vegetables while Mya grabbed plates and utensils.

  Exhaustion had taken precedence over eating when they’d arrived back at Gideon’s, but now she was ravenous. She ate two-thirds of the food on her plate without stopping to utter a word.

  “I’ll make sure we eat earlier from now on,” Gideon said. Having chosen to eat at a much more civilized pace, he still had quite a way to go before making it into the clean plate club.

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “I’m not sure why I’m so hungry all of a sudden. I’m used to leaving work late and eating even later.”

  Gideon took a sip of wine before speaking. “You’ve been through a lot in a short period of time. Your body’s been running in part on adrenaline. That takes a lot of energy.”

  “I guess, but you know, waking up in your old bedroom was the most refreshed I’ve felt in a long time. I think it’s because this house has always been a sanctuary for me. Grandma Pearl always made me feel like I was home when I was here.”

  Gideon smiled. “There were never any visitors in Grandma Pearl’s house. Only family.”

  “She was a special woman.” It had been years since Grandma Pearl passed, but Mya felt a familiar lump growing in her throat. She knew Pearl wouldn’t want to be remembered with sadness, so Mya kept her building emotions at bay. “You’ve made a lot of changes to the house.”

  Gideon looked around as if he were looking at the space for the first time. “Yeah, Grandma Pearl tended to the big issues, but she didn’t see much need for upgrading the interior.”

  Mya let her gaze flow over the stainless steel and a white-marbled kitchen. “You’ve definitely changed things.”

  Gideon frowned. “You don’t like it?”

  “No, everything is beautiful,” she rushed to assure him. And it was. It just lacked personality.

  “But...”

  “It’s not very homey. It looks—” Mya shrugged “—well, it looks like you went to a furniture store, pointed at a couple showrooms and had everything there delivered.”

  “I don’t spend a lot of time at home.” He poured more wine into both their glasses, then took a sip.

  “No. I guess you never really have.” She hated the bitterness in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. He’d hurt her deeply when he’d left. Time had softened the edges of that wound, but it hadn’t healed completely. She wasn’t sure if it ever would.

  An awkward silence fell over the table.

  She drank a long gulp of wine. Then she figured
, since she’d already made things awkward, why not ask the question she’d been dying to have answered?

  “I was surprised when my mom told me you’d left the military. I’d thought you were in for the long haul.”

  He froze, his eyes on the empty plate in front of him. “Things change.”

  The cool response lit the fuse of frustration in her. Gideon had given her the impression that the military, the multiple tours and his dedication to making a career in the service was the impetus for their divorce. But a little more than a year later, he’d declined to re-enlist. “What things changed?”

  Gideon remained silent so long she’d begun to think he wasn’t going to answer. Slowly, he raised his gaze to hers. His brown eyes were several shades darker than normal and clouded. “I’d seen too much to stay.”

  The words hung in the air between them. Mya wasn’t sure how to respond.

  A moment later, Gideon rose, picked up their plates and carried them to the sink.

  An ache drummed in Mya’s chest, as much for the pain she’d seen in Gideon’s eyes as for what had been lost between them. There was a time when they’d talked to each other about everything and anything. Now, she wasn’t sure what to say.

  She carried their empty wineglasses to the sink and stood beside Gideon, watching the naked branches of the maple tree sway slightly in the wind.

  “You remember when we tried to build a treehouse in that tree?” Mya pointed to the large maple occupying most of the small backyard.

  Gideon gazed through the window over the kitchen sink, a smile on his face. “Of course. I don’t know what we were thinking trying to make a treehouse out of what were basically twigs.”

  “It made perfect sense to our eleven-year-old selves. It’s a wonder we didn’t break our necks.”

  “If I remember correctly, you fell out of the tree, and twisted your ankle.”

  She laughed. “I did. Trying to make a door out of that gigantic piece of wood we found next to the house.”