by Sharon Kay
Rhys scanned the street as he shuffled through different voice prompts, then waited on hold for thirty seconds. Long enough for Parker to trace the call and triangulate his location. Then a familiar voice picked up. “Mac. Long time. What’s up man?”
Mac. In dealing with humans, Rhys used the last name MacLeod. He guessed half of Titan only knew him as Mac, and that was fine. Who cared about names when he was concealing dozens of species and a whole damn realm from them?
“Parker. Got a few minutes before you stop the next love bug virus from crashing Windows around the world?”
His friend chuckled. “Love bug. The stuff being created now makes the love bug look like a preschooler built it.” The tapping of a keyboard echoed though the line. “Still in Chicago.”
“Yeah, still here.” Rhys wouldn’t be surprised if he was on some drone’s video feed streaming live to Parker’s screen. “Never a dull moment.”
“I hear you. So what’s going on?”
“Got a case. Hang on.” Rhys walked around to the driver’s side door of his car to get in. No sense in having this convo on a city street, even if hardly anyone was up at this hour. “It’s a homicide. Happened early this morning, downtown. The victim’s chest wound was ugly. The cops are keeping it quiet.”
“Did they identify the body?”
“Yeah, that part was easy.” Rhys watched as two college guys ambled into the coffee shop, backpacks weighed down. “But it’s not enough.”
“That’s a good start. What do you need me for?”
“Motive. Why’d this guy end up dead?” Rhys idly snapped one of the many hair ties Enza had wound around the gear shift. “He was a scientist. Name’s Scott Dayton.”
A second passed. “All right, man. I owe you one for helping with that fucked up job in Anacostia. That was some weird shit.”
Rhys grunted in acknowledgement. Parker had no idea, but that weird shit had been a pair of dark elves nearly blowing up one of DC’s most dangerous neighborhoods several years ago. After a subtle supernatural intervention by Rhys—with a perfectly logical cover story for the humans involved—the case had been closed. Titan had moved on to the next threat that needed averting. The dark elves were no more, disposed of by Rhys’s demonfire.
More tapping reverberated in the background. “Whoa. Dude has dozens of patents. Biomedical research in human genomics…owns his own company, Dayton Diagnostics. That your guy?”
“Yeah. He was found outside his building.”
“And you need to know who he crossed?”
“Yep, and if he crossed anyone. I need to get into his company records, grant applications, business dealings, research. What top secret stuff he’s working on, if any. But Dayton Diagnostics has some serious firewalls.”
Parker exhaled. “I’d hope so. Don’t want human DNA maps sent out around the globe.”
“True, but how many people would even understand it?”
“All it takes is one psycho,” Parker muttered. “Hang on, I’m digging in to their security.” A pause. “Hmm.”
A tiny foreign car zipped down the street, then parallel parked expertly in a space only it could fit in. Rhys’s hearing picked up on every wheeze of its cylinders and gears, as well as each click and keyboard stroke Parker executed. The man was a genius, with a mind that may as well have been constructed of ones and zeros instead of gray matter. If anyone could get into Dayton Diagnostics, Parker could.
“Interesting,” Parker said, still clicking away. “I’m through the first layer, the basic building security codes and employee data, but…”
“But?” Rhys frowned.
“I can’t access individual computer files and either shared drives or personal drives.”
“You need more time to break down the wall?”
“Nope.” The squeak of a chair carried through the line. “Not time. Proximity. I need to get my hands on that server.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. This can’t be accessed remotely. It’s set up well, and I need to be there to get what you want. Plus,” he paused. “Gotta admit, I’m curious about how this system is built out. It’s not what I would have expected.”
“No shit.” In the years his work had occasionally paralleled Titan’s, Rhys had never seen Parker need to be physically on site to get a job done. What the hell had Scott Dayton done to merit such extreme safety layers around his work, yet left himself vulnerable on an empty street? Rhys cleared his throat. “All right, man. So, you’re coming in?”
“Yup. And lucky for you, we’re between jobs. Boss man’s taking a few days off to be with the wife and new baby.”
Jared Westin married with a baby? That was a prediction Rhys never would have made based on his brief meeting with the guy. “Uh, wow. Good for him. And cool. You ever been here?”
“Once, years ago. And only for a few days.”
“Sounds good. You gotta get plane tickets or something?”
“Titan has a couple of private jets, my friend. I’ll see you tonight.”
CHAPTER 3
AS THE RENTED EXPLORER SPED toward the glittering Chicago nighttime skyline, Parker cast a scowl at Locke. The new guy’s phone hadn’t stopped beeping, pinging, or making a hundred different noises since they’d been wheels down in Illinois. “Remind me again why the hell I brought you.”
Locke’s thumbs flew over the screen. “One, a murderer is loose, and the police are clueless. Two, you can’t hack the data, and I’ve come to watch that absurdity. And three, I’ve never had Chicago sausage or deep dish pizza.”
Pizza. “Yeah, yeah.” Parker’s hands flexed on the steering wheel. Even though it wasn’t officially his task, he was intrigued by the cyber roadblocks he encountered earlier today with Dayton Diagnostics. It had been months since Parker’d met a challenge at such a technical level. “You can eat all the pizza you want once we get into this system.” The plan now was to meet Rhys at the building. Parker had already created swipe cards to get in. Once they got to the tenth floor, which housed Dayton’s labs, he could dig into the server.
Researching the dead man had yielded a lot of fluff. No skeletons in the closet. Good grades at medical school. Scott Dayton was either wrongly targeted or had recently taken a walk on the dark side, or he was excellent at hiding his trail. Then again, it could be a random act of violence. From what he’d read, the city’s murder rate had peaked to a regrettable high last summer.
Half an hour later, they parked the truck in a public garage and strode into the dark city night. Parker texted Rhys their location and got an immediate reply.
I’m around the corner.
Sure enough, a second later, a tall figure came into view and stopped.
Street lamps cast enough light to illuminate Rhys’s face. “Good to see you, Mac.” Parker extended a hand to grasp his old friend’s arm. Dude hadn’t changed, though a seriousness clouded his laid-back demeanor.
“You too. Glad you could come out and bust into this shit.”
“Happy to help.” Parker angled his head toward Locke. “This is Locke.”
“Nice to meet you. You joined a good team.” Rhys shook Locke’s hand.
Locke scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Nice to meet the guy who gave an assist on the Anacostia job. Didn’t read the file, but from what I hear, that one could’ve been messy.”
Rhys shook his head. “Glad to have that situation over and done with.” He made a half turn and gestured down the block. “That’s the building, and right outside is where Scott Dayton was found. Security is heightened inside. You got cards?”
Parker nodded and handed them out. Copying Dayton Diagnostic’s logo from their website had been easy; easier still had been adding it to the plastic cards he coded to override as many security systems as possible. “I have a thermal imaging app on my phone. We can check the guards’ rotations and get in.”
“Good thing the news crews have all gone home,” Rhys said. “Side door is this way.”
Parke
r had gotten the building floor plan from Rhys earlier in the day. Rhys was good, no doubt, and obviously the firewalls in the city’s Department of Buildings site were nowhere near the level of Dayton Diagnostics’. The three of them ducked down an alley alongside the building to an unmarked door. No light above it, which was fine with Parker. Holding up his phone, he activated the thermal scanner app he had written.
Though the walls were thick, his program had no trouble detecting the presence of warm bodies. They appeared on the screen as multi colored images, four of them on the first floor. One was sitting.
“One guy at a desk,” Locke muttered.
“Elevators are centrally located.” Rhys quirked a brow. “Stairs?”
Parker nodded. Ten flights of stairs, part of the job.
He studied the guards’ movements for another several minutes, then found a predictable break in the pattern. Rhys had his lock-picking tools ready, but first Locke tried the black card reader mounted to the brick facade. A tiny click emitted from the lock. Rhys shrugged and opened it to reveal a dark side hallway.
They filed in on silent feet. Another swipe at another card reader let them into the stairwell and many steps later, they emerged on Dayton’s floor.
All the lights were on in the central hallway. Glass doors etched with the company’s name and double helix logo stretched across one end. A sign printed on a sheet of white paper was affixed to the inside pane. Dayton Diagnostics offices are closed as we pay our respects to our founder, Scott Dayton.
Rhys stalked to the card reader near the door and swiped his card. A red light flashed three times in quick succession. He glanced at Parker.
Parker tried his card and got the same results. “Hang on.” He pulled out his phone and activated another app, this one created by his wife Lexi. He grabbed an uncoded swipe card from his wallet, and after a few swipes back and forth between Lexi’s program and Dayton’s door, he got the thing unlocked.
They entered the fancy reception area, which was elegant and mostly white. A few black chairs mixed in with white leather couches. A door behind a large white desk appeared to be the only other way to go, so they filed through into another corridor.
This hallway was just as bright, but much more sterile. Like a hospital, it had white glossy floors and pale walls. Black-and-white photos of what looked like extreme close ups of cells broke up the endless ivory, along with dark wooden office doors. Name plates were mounted on the wall next to each.
“Start with the boss?” Locke started down the hall, glancing at the first name. “Not it.”
“Hold up.” Rhys stood still, eyes narrowed. “I hear something. Farther down.”
“Yeah? Let’s go.” Locke’s hand shifted to his side, where Parker knew his friend’s .22 was concealed under his jacket.
Parker didn’t hear anything, but Rhys had always had an oddly accurate sense of hearing. He followed them through the empty hall.
Three doors down, Rhys stopped. Listened. And placed a hand on the doorknob. Locke took an offensive position on the opposite side of the frame. Parker stilled, watching, trusting Rhys was onto something.
Rhys tried the handle. Unlocked. He opened it slowly into a small, tidy office. The far wall held a door to adjoining room and a row of windows. On the other side of the glass was a petite woman in a lab coat, peering into a microscope. She hadn’t noticed them.
“Guess not everyone could stay away from work,” Parker muttered.
“Is she really that busy that she has to come when they’re closed?” Rhys mused.
Parker shrugged. “Can you guys handle this without scaring her to death, or do I need to be the first one through that door?”
“I got this,” Rhys said, and pushed open the door to the lab.
CHAPTER 4
THE DOOR TO THE PALE-GREEN walled lab opened silently, and Rhys mentally counted the seconds until the human female lost her shit. He hated to scare her, but there was no way she wouldn’t panic when she saw three unknown guys come into her space after her boss had been murdered. Three, two—
A shriek echoed around the room as she jumped off her rolling stool and backed up against a black counter. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” A slender hand slipped into her lab coat pocket and clutched something. Pepper spray?
“We—” Rhys caught the jerky movement of her arm raising and ducked as a cloud of misty, sharply-scented particles deployed toward his eyes. Gotta give her credit for trying to defend herself, though it wouldn’t harm Rhys, and probably wouldn’t slow down Parker or Locke much either.
“Whoa.” Rhys backed up. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“You don’t work here. Who are you?” she shouted, though the little canister of spray trembled in her outstretched hand.
“I’m sorry to barge in here like this. You can put that away.” Rhys held up both hands. “I’m Rhys MacLeod. We’re investigating the death of Scott Dayton.”
“Are you cops?” Her green eyes widened, and beneath the skin at her throat, the rapid ticking of her pulse was clear to him. “Where are your badges?”
“Not cops. Private investigators.” Hey, Rhys needed their presence to be believable. Demon hunters wouldn’t fly with many people, let alone folks whose lives revolved around science. Behind him, Parker and Locke filed in.
“Why?” she asked. “I thought the police were doing the investigating.”
“Consider it something of a joint task force.” Parker stepped forward slowly, hand extended. “I’m Parker Black. Nice to meet you…” he paused. Dropped his gaze to her badge. “Megan O’Rourke.”
Her mouth dropped open, then she scowled down at her name and picture prominently displayed on the white plastic. She didn’t take Parker’s hand and instead glared at him. “Stay over there.” Still holding her spray, she turned to Locke. “And you?”
“Locke Oliver.” Locke inclined his head. “We’re just here to help.”
“Do you have business cards?”
Rhys held in a snort. Watchers sure as hell didn’t have cards, and Titan sure as hell never needed them. The name communicated it all. Big and very powerful in the human world. “No. But if you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“What’s the name of your firm? Or agency? Whoever you work for.”
Rhys glanced at Parker. Titan had a website and all the official stuff that would placate humans. The Watchers operated parallel to them, but in total secrecy. Rhys could throw a basic website together in the amount of time it would take to secure a domain name, but it would—
“Titan Group,” Parker said.
“Titan,” she repeated. “Haven’t heard of it. Then again, it’s not like I know any private security investigators...” Her voice dropped to a cracked whisper. “Why do you want to talk to me? Can’t you talk to HR?”
“We’re trying to figure out why your boss was targeted.” Rhys leaned a hip on the counter near a set of glass-doored cabinets full of empty beakers. He still heard the woman’s heart pounding, but the aggression had disappeared from her posture. He only sensed a lingering wariness and the distress brought on by fear and confusion.
She swallowed. “He really was targeted? The cops wouldn’t say.”
“It’s a possibility,” Rhys said. “Not ruling it out. That’s partly why we’re here.”
Megan fiddled with the can of spray. “Do I need a lawyer?”
“No, ma’am,” Locke said. “Just connecting the puzzle pieces. We intend to find out who did this and why.”
She sank onto her rolling seat, placing her pepper spray on the table. “I wish I knew, too. This is so scary.”
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to step out,” Parker said. “I’ll take a look around. The sign on the door said the place was closed. Is anyone else here?”
“No. I’m the only one who needed work as a distraction, apparently. I-I just don’t know where else to be. I couldn’t sleep. Maybe I need to talk to someone…” She shoo
k her head. “But for now, it’s just me, Bella, and Edward.”
Locke grabbed a chair, flipping the thing around to straddle it. He sat near her, and scanned the room. “Who?”
“My rats.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder.
Rhys, Parker, and Locke all stared behind her at a glass container with a screen across the top. Two red eyes peered from a bundle of white fur nestled in a pile of sawdust-looking stuff. “I only see one.” Locke tilted his head.
“Edward is shy,” Megan said.
Rhys nodded, as if it made perfect sense that a rat was shy.
“Uh, on that note, I’ll see you in a few.” Parker cleared his throat and headed for the door.
Rhys knew his buddy planned to find the company’s computer room and get to work investigating the server and all the security bells and whistles built in. Parker loved that shit more than anyone else Rhys had met.
Megan studied Parker with a slightly perplexed expression, but then her focus dropped to the smooth table top in front of her. “Maybe he’ll find something the cops missed. If they missed anything. Gosh, I don’t even know what they thought they’d find. Scott was such a nice guy.”
Rhys hoped Megan could keep her cool. Yeah, they hadn’t expected to find anyone, but then again, they walked into an unknown. And now that they’d found her, it would be a huge bonus if she could shed some light on the situation. “I’m sorry about what happened to your boss,” he began.
“Thanks.” She let out a soft sigh. “It was so sudden. I guess it seems weird that I came in tonight.”
“Not weird. Everyone copes with loss in different ways,” Locke murmured.
She gave him a small smile and moved her hands toward her eyes, banging them into her safety glasses. Scowling, she took the glasses off and set them carefully down in front of her. “Just so you know, the police have questioned me and everyone else here.”