by Dee Davis
“So who’s Milo?” Harrison asked.
“I already told Tucker. He’s a friend. George hooked us up.”
Harrison’s eyebrows rose, mouth twitching as he suppressed a laugh.
“Well, not like that, obviously,” Alexis said, feeling the heat of a blush. “But over the years he’s been a big help. And after I got back from California I was pretty shaken, and the first thing George instilled in me is to change everything when something goes wrong. So I threw out the phone I’d been using, and when Milo offered a new one, I took it. I trust him.”
“Well, looks like you shouldn’t have,” Harrison said, looking up from his computer screen. “Someone’s embedded a pretty sophisticated tracking program in the phone’s software.”
“Like GPS?” she asked, her gut clenching at the thought that she’d been played for a fool. “A lot of people have that, right?”
“Yeah, but this program is a different animal altogether. It’s like the ones put in computers for anti-theft purposes. Or even some cars. Only this one was buried so deep in the software it’s pretty damn certain it wasn’t supposed to have been discovered.”
“So you’re saying Milo purposely gave me a phone that could be tracked. That he’s the one responsible for these people finding us all the time?”
“Pretty much.” Harrison shrugged, looking apologetic.
“Well, first thing we need to do is get rid of it,” Tucker said.
“Easily done,” Harrison said, “but I’m thinking if we really want to fuck with their heads, we’d be better off giving the phone a new itinerary.” He nodded at the trucks lined up in the parking lot outside the restaurant’s window.
“I like the way you think.” Tucker leaned back with a smile. “And once we’ve relocated the phone, preferably to a truck heading due west, I’m thinking we need to head back to New Orleans and have a little chat with Milo Alozono.”
“But what about Dryker?” Alexis asked, still not sure she believed her friend had betrayed her.
“Not a problem. We’ll stop in Austin on the way. If we’re right and he’s been following us, he’ll be occupied elsewhere, and we’ll have easy access to his computers and files.”
“Assuming there’s something there to find.” Alexis hadn’t meant to sound so negative, but despite the fact that they kept eluding Dryker and his men, they were still nowhere closer to understanding what was really going on.
“Well, whatever we find or don’t find at Dryker’s, I’m thinking we’re better off discussing it on the move. Because until we relocate this puppy”—Harrison patted the phone still linked to his computer—“we’re sitting ducks.”
CHAPTER 15
The house sat on the top of a hill, a field of wildflowers between it and the county road. A whitewashed gray with a limestone chimney, the structure looked at home amidst the twisted cedar and live oaks. The yard was overgrown, but at some point, someone had cared. A scrawny yellow rose twined around a stone column, tenaciously clinging to life. A black Lexus sat in the driveway, the fancy car looking out of place in the rural setting.
“You think someone’s here?” Alexis asked. Tucker had tried to get her to wait in the car, but there was no reasoning with the woman. She definitely had a mind of her own, and if he were honest, although at times it drove him crazy, he had to admit it was one of the things that made her so appealing.
“Well, the house is certainly sending mixed messages.” He indicated the newspapers on the lawn as well as fliers stuffed in a mailbox at the gate.
“Maybe Dryker’s just not much on reading material,” Harrison said, as they cautiously made their way up the drive, guns at the ready.
“I don’t like the feel of this.” Tucker stopped on the steps leading up to the front door. “If there’s a car here, you’d think someone would have picked up the mail.”
Motioning for Alexis to stay put, he and Harrison walked up the steps and onto the porch fronting the house.
“I feel like we’ve been here before,” Harrison said, referring to the condition in which they’d found Atterley’s cabin. “I’m not sure I’m up for another bombing.”
“Well, there’s definitely been someone here before us. The door’s open. You want to go first or should I?”
“Age before beauty,” Harrison quipped. “Seriously, I’ve got your back.”
“Okay, we go on my count. Three… two… one…” Tucker pushed the door open and swung into the foyer, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees to be sure there were no threats. “We’re clear.”
Harrison nodded but didn’t lower his gun.
Tucker motioned to Alexis, who had followed them up onto the porch. She stepped inside, chewing the side of her lip. He’d noticed she did that whenever she was nervous. “Let’s check the back.”
He and Harrison moved forward again, this time down the small hall that led to a dining room and kitchen. Both were empty. Although, based on the dishes in the sink, someone had been here quite recently.
“I feel like we’re in the middle of a scary movie,” Alexis said, stepping into the kitchen. “Like any minute, the guy with the hatchet is going to jump out of the closet.”
“You’re just now getting that vibe?” Harrison asked. “Not when we were being chased by gun-toting men through a hotel, or when we were counting down a bomb blast in Colorado?”
“Yeah, well—I don’t know why, but this feels creepier.”
“It’s the unknown,” Tucker said, heading for the stairs. “We need to check the upper floor. Alexis, why don’t you stay down here until we’re sure everything’s clear?”
“No way. That’s exactly how you wind up dead. Get separated from your friends and it’s all over. I’m coming with you.”
“Fine.” He allowed himself a smile. “But stay between us.”
She nodded, and they started up the stairs, Tucker in front, leading with his Sig Sauer, and Harrison in the rear, his attention on the rooms below them as he watched their backs.
The landing at the top opened into a square, with three rooms opening off the hallway. Moving slowly, back to the wall, Tucker swung into the first room. A bedroom. At first glance nothing seemed out of place, but as his gaze swept the room a second time, he saw a streak on the floor.
Harrison, who’d followed him into the room, knelt to run his finger across it. “Blood. Fairly fresh. It’s still wet.” He lifted his finger to show the tip stained red.
“I’m telling you this feels like Freddy Krueger,” Alexis said, pressing close beside Tucker.
“Yeah, well, I’m starting to be a believer.” Tucker frowned, trying to find a secondary stain or maybe some spatter. But there was no evidence of either. And nothing in the bedroom showed any sign of a struggle.
“Looks to me like whoever made this stain was heading that way,” Harrison said, motioning behind them to the door. “See how it starts heavier and then trails out. As if someone was dragging a foot or maybe even a body.”
“So let’s check the other rooms. And just for the hell of it, let’s all stay together. All right?”
“You’ll get no argument from me.” Alexis tried for a smile but missed, her eyes wide with anticipation.
They walked into the hall, and Tucker moved left, toward the second door. This one was a bathroom. And although it, too, lacked any signs of disturbance or struggle, a bloody handprint on the door frame and a second stain on the hallway floor indicated that the person who’d been bleeding had headed this way.
The last door opened out into an office. And this time there were multiple signs of a struggle or at least a search of some kind. Papers lay scattered around the floor and a filing cabinet had been upended on the far side of the room. A desk in the corner was covered with cables and cords, but the computer they’d been hooked to was missing.
“Someone’s clearly been looking for something,” Harrison said, stating the obvious. “But I don’t see any sign of our blood trail.”
“It�
�s here,” Alexis said, her voice a strangled whisper. “He’s here.”
She was standing in the doorway of the closet, her fingers splayed on the frame, her knuckles white as she braced herself against the wall.
Tucker rushed to her side, Harrison right behind him. Peter Dryker lay on the floor, a pool of muddied red spreading out beneath him.
“Is he dead?” Alexis murmured, her eyes still locked on the body.
Harrison knelt down beside the man, reaching over to feel for a pulse. “Definitely dead. But not too long. He’s still warm. Looks like it was a gunshot. Through and through near his groin—which explains the blood on the floor. Dude probably crawled in here and bled out.”
“I should be relieved, I suppose, but…” She shivered again, and Tucker slid an arm around her.
“Death is never a good thing. And a violent one is the worst of all. Even when it’s an enemy.”
She sucked in a breath. He could almost feel her struggling for control. “I’m sorry,” she said, pulling free of his embrace. “I’m all right now. I just wasn’t expecting to find him here—like this.”
“Any chance that whoever did this is still around here somewhere?” Harrison asked, pushing back to his feet.
Tucker shook his head. “My guess is that if he or she were still here, we’d have already had a run-in.”
“Well, that’s something, at least.” Alexis offered a weak smile. “I wasn’t really relishing a run-in with a real-life Freddy Krueger.”
“One thing bugs me,” Harrison said, eyes narrowed as he studied the body.
“Just one?” Tucker lifted an eyebrow.
“Okay, one major thing. Why no bomb? We’ve got a guy that’s killed Alexis’s family, George, and potentially Duncan Wallace that way, not to mention damn near blowing us up at the cabin. Why not blow this guy up?”
“Maybe we’re dealing with different entities. Makes sense when you consider the attacks at Alexis’s house and later at the apartment and the hotel. No bombs involved then, but the shooters were definitely aiming to kill.”
“Okay, if we are talking about two separate killers, then that begs a second question,” Harrison continued. “Why the hell are the bad guys killing each other? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. It just changes the complexion of things.”
“So does Dryker being dead mean that I’m in the clear?” Alexis asked, her eyes still on the body.
“No,” Tucker said. “I think it means that whoever was behind the attacks at your house knows you’ve got help. And that we were getting close to finding Dryker. That’d explain someone taking him out.”
“So we couldn’t talk to him.”
“Seems likely,” Harrison agreed. “There was definitely a computer—the cables are still here. And I’m guessing any files that might have helped will be missing as well.”
“So what else do we know about Dryker other than the fact that he worked for DOD?” Tucker asked.
“Not much. DOD can be pretty dodgy about that sort of thing. I went back in to do some digging after my initial discovery, but his personnel file only had the basics, and all of that was dated.”
“What about after DOD?”
“He worked security jobs at a couple of private companies. Most of them out west. And most defense related. Anyway, a couple of years ago he just fell off the grid. It took a hell of a lot of digging just to get a current address.”
“Well, as soon as we land somewhere, seems like you should do a little more digging into Dryker’s background. But right now we need to see if there’s anything here that might give us an idea as to why specifically he’s been after Alexis.” Tucker turned to have another look at the room.
“Agreed.” Harrison nodded. “Although I think we have to accept that one or both of our assailants is connected in some way to Omega. And that at least one of them believes that Alexis is in possession of something tied to her father and his work.”
“But I don’t have anything,” she protested.
“Unfortunately, someone out there isn’t as sure of that fact as you are,” Tucker said. “And it may all be a moot point anyway.”
“Meaning?” she asked, her jumbled emotions playing across her face.
“Meaning that in the beginning they may have wanted to kidnap you, but now, I’m afraid, they want to kill you. And I’m afraid my involvement may be why their intent changed.”
“Well, that doesn’t make any sense.” A small frown creased her brow. “If they believe I have something they want, why would they want to kill me and risk never finding it?”
“Law of diminishing returns,” Harrison said. “Anything can lose value if the cost of retrieving it becomes too expensive. So maybe it’s simply become easier to eliminate the threat than to try and get whatever it is they want from you.”
“Well, I haven’t any idea what it could be. I swear. I decided about three years ago to let the whole thing with my father go. I figured my obsession with finding his killers wasn’t going anywhere, and the anger was eating me alive. My own diminishing returns. It just seemed better to find a way to move on.” Her gaze met Tucker’s and he knew the last was about more than just her father.
“It’s not as easy as just making up your mind to do it,” he said, wishing it weren’t so.
“I know.” Her smile was sad. “I don’t know that I’ll ever truly be able to let it go. But at least until George was killed, I had sort of figured out how to keep it compartmentalized. Which is a beginning, right?”
“Yeah,” Tucker agreed, “it’s definitely a start.” He had tried to do that. To put Lena’s memories firmly in the past. The violence associated with her death. The betrayal that had set everything in motion. All of it. But Alexis was right. It was hard. Damn near impossible, actually.
“Um, guys?” Harrison said, breaking into his musings. “Not that I don’t approve of clearing out old baggage, but it seems like we’d be better served checking out the office and then getting the hell out of here before someone comes along and finds us here with Dryker. You can resume the conversation when we’re safely back on the road.”
Tucker pulled his gaze away from Alexis. “You’re right. We need to move—quickly. And then find out what, if anything, Milo Alozono has to do with this. If someone believed Dryker was a dangerous loose end, they’re probably going to have the same thought about Alexis’s friend.”
CHAPTER 16
Milo lived on a block of cookie-cutter houses in Algiers. The neighborhood had flourished recently, but there were still pockets of poverty and areas where urban crime was frequent. Milo had chosen to straddle the line, which considering that he also played fast and loose with the law, made complete and total sense to Alexis.
“Whatever Milo’s gotten himself involved in here, it’s not your fault,” Tucker said, uncannily reading her mind. “If we’re right and he set you up, that means he’s playing for the other team. Or at least taking money from them.”
“It doesn’t matter. If he hadn’t been linked with me in the first place, they’d never have used him to get to me.”
Harrison pulled their latest car, a Volvo, in front of the house, and the three of them got out, Tucker with his hand on the butt of his gun.
“Maybe I should go first so we don’t spook him,” Alexis suggested, already moving toward the front door.
“No way.” Tucker shook his head. “This guy’s already screwed you over once. We don’t need to give him an opportunity to do it again.”
“He’d never hurt me. No matter what he’s done, I refuse to believe he’d intentionally put me in harm’s way.”
“Believe what you want,” Harrison said, “but the guy gave the killers an easy way to find you. If that’s not putting you in the middle of a firefight, I don’t know what is.”
“Okay, fine.” She sighed. “We’ll go together.”
She wasn’t about to admit it, but she actually felt better with the two of them on either side of her. She’d seen them bot
h in action and knew firsthand what they were capable of. And although she was used to acting on her own, it was kind of nice to have friends.
She shot a sideways glance at Tucker as they walked up onto the front porch. If she were honest, she’d have to admit that she was starting to think of him as more than a friend. But, unlike her previous thoughts, this one didn’t give her comfort. Truth was, it made her stomach feel like the entire cast of Riverdance had taken up residence there.
Harrison reached out to ring the bell and they waited, the humidity making the day feel hotter than it really was.
“No answer,” Tucker said, reaching for the doorknob. “I guess we’ll just have to invite ourselves in.”
The door opened easily, and Alexis’s stomach upped the tempo a notch, her fear morphing into worry for her friend. “Milo?” she called as they stepped inside.
The house was cool after the heat of the sun—and dark. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust. The living room looked exactly the same as the last time she’d seen it, except for the addition of a new plasma television.
“Clearly didn’t do his research,” Harrison said, indicating the TV. “LED is the only way to go.”
“Milo?” Alexis called again, but there was no answer, just the sound of the back door opening.
“Shit,” Tucker said, “he’s trying to run. You take the front.” He motioned to Harrison. “Alexis, you stay put.” He sprinted toward the kitchen and the back door; Harrison was already out the front.
Alexis sucked in a breath and turned slowly to survey the room. She knew it was empty, but a part of her mind wasn’t convinced. There was a take-out container on the coffee table. Gumbo, from the look of it. She remembered that Milo had a penchant for spicy food. They’d met at Tipitina’s more than once for crawfish étouffée. She preferred her Cajun food on the milder side, a muffuletta from Central Grocery or maybe fish with crabmeat Yvonne from Galatoires.
Above her head something rattled across the floor upstairs. Her heart skittered to a stop, all thoughts of food vanishing in an instant. She held her breath as the seconds went by, waiting for another sound. But when it came her blood ran cold.