Everyone but Dante. I was beginning to have my doubts about him.
I’d never seen this sort of thing before. But I knew it was possible for a virus to sit dormant until someone sent it a command. Dante was on his phone that day. What if he was the one to send the command? It made sense, except for the why. Why would Dante want to block Megan from finding out why her brother was killed and by whom?
I curled up in my office chair and began running the same diagnostics on the files that I’d been using, trying to find a way to fix the corruption. The virus was incredibly thorough. Chances that I’d be able to clean it up completely were slim. But I was making some progress. I’d managed to get more names from the lists Emily had made, names of people she believed were connected to the terrorist cell in some way. But that was all I had to offer.
I wanted to give her more. I wanted to make sure she knew the truth because I knew how important that was to her.
And then there was Luke.
Luke Murphy was an American hero. He was a Navy SEAL before he joined the CIA. He worked covert operations—everyone sort of assumed against terror—for several years before giving it up and coming home to marry Megan. They were high school sweethearts, head over heels for each other since she was fifteen. Before that, they grew up together because his mother was the housekeeper at the Bradford home, but she was so much more than that. Megan’s parents both worked, he at Bradford Telecommunications, the family business, and she at her many, many charities. Mrs. Murphy made sure the three Bradford children got to school every day, oversaw their homework. She even tucked them in at night. And Luke was right there beside them. As was I, most of the time. We were closer than any family could ever be.
But then Luke disappeared the morning of his wedding to Megan. And then his name started appearing in Emily’s notes.
What did Luke have to do with Peter’s death?
Luke would never hurt Peter. They were best friends. When Peter started investigating the sale of some of Bradford Telecommunications’ software without proper licensing, he went to Luke for help. Then Luke disappeared. Three months later, Peter was dead.
It was eight months before Megan began to think Peter’s death was more than an accident. And since then we’ve been learning things in trickles. But what we were learning made it seem like Luke was involved somehow. I couldn’t imagine his involvement was less than honorable. But it was hard to see that within the context of what little we knew.
Luke and Dante. Both loved Megan. Both were involved in this thing somehow.
I had to find out how.
I put on my glasses and studied the computer screen. I worked for several hours, so engrossed in what was happening on the screen that I didn’t hear Hayden come down the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
I sat back and smiled up at him.
“Hey. Did I wake you?”
“Your absence woke me.”
He lifted me up and took my place in the chair, pulling me down into his lap. He stared at the computer screens, but then he frowned, shaking his head.
“I have no idea what any of that is.”
“I’m trying to clean up the mess that virus made of Emily’s notes.”
“Having any luck?”
“Not really.”
He kissed my neck lightly. “Megan has me checking out the names on that list you gave her. I’m not having much luck, either.”
“It’s all a dead end. I really think that the best way to figure all this out will be to clean up Emily’s files and see what she knew.”
Hayden nodded against my shoulder. “We need to find something and the sooner the better.”
“Why?”
“Because all of this is driving Megan crazy. Peter brought something down on his own head that put Amber in danger, and then it touched Dominic and Amy with Emily’s death. It’s going to come back, it’s going to touch someone else we care about, and we’re going to be totally unprepared if we don’t figure out what this is.”
I nodded. “It scares me. A part of me wants to finish this and get this information for Megan. The other part, though, is scared that if I get this information for her, she’ll be in too deep and someone will come after her like they did Peter and Emily.”
“I know. But I think we need to end this.” He touched my face gently. “And you know that I won’t let anything bad happen to Megan.”
“Promise me that no matter what happens, you will be there for her.”
Hayden sobered, his eyes moving slowly over me. “Of course.”
“You’ll take care of her. You won’t let her go off with Dante or anyone else.”
“Sam—”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.” He ran his thumb slowly over my chin. “You’re starting to scare me a little.”
I pulled away, turning my attention back to the computer. “I just…all of this talk of terrorists and murder and…it freaks me out a little. I’m just a computer nerd.”
“You’re more than that.”
I shook my head. “I joined the Marines and they taught me how to hack all kinds of systems. I left the Marines and joined Megan in her security firm, and I ended up doing all the scheduling and the finances and the computer stuff. That’s all I’m capable of.” I gestured toward the computer monitors. “And I failed her on that, too.”
“You didn’t fail anyone.”
“I should have known that virus was there. I should have taken measures against it.”
“You did the best you could. How were you supposed to know that a corrupted hard drive had a viable virus on it? A virus that someone set off at just the right moment?”
“I should have known.”
I started to shake my head, but Hayden suddenly stood, lifting me into his arms as he did. He carried me upstairs, determined to make me stop beating myself up. And the things he whispered to me in the dark? How could I feel inferior? How could I feel ugly when such a man could say those amazing things to me?
This man who made fun of me and made me feel little…he was suddenly building me up until I felt as though I were capable of anything. And I was eternally grateful for that.
Chapter 11
Hayden
There was something going on with Sam. I should have seen it much sooner—the dizzy spells and the pale skin. I should have known she wasn’t well.
The bruises on her arms…she thought I hadn’t seen them, but I had. She was in the hospital while she was in New York. And she had all these drugs in her bathroom cabinet that she hid behind bottles of mouthwash and antiperspirant. But I saw them and I googled a few.
Lupus. She had lupus.
It made sense. I had very little understanding of what lupus was—only what I’d read on the internet. But the combination of a fanatical mother and a chronic illness? Obviously, that explained Sam’s shyness. She was coming out of her shell now. And I loved having the chance to be a part of that.
Though, I had to admit, I was nervous about going with her to her mother’s tonight. I’d been hoping for a quiet evening alone, just the two of us, exchanging gifts and enjoying a good bottle of wine. But if this was something she wanted to do, how could I refuse her?
Only for Sam would I be tying another damn tie around my neck.
I stared at myself in the mirror, a vague memory of watching my father do this passing through my mind. He was always putting on suits and telling me how a young man should dress properly. In his mind, that meant a suit. But to me that meant something much different. I’d be happy to never wear another tie or another suit.
I shrugged on the jacket, only the memory of Sam wearing my suit jacket making it palatable.
The only thing that would make it better was if she’d been naked underneath…
I shook myself, reminding my rebel brain that we were going to have dinner with a woman who apparently so deeply believed in religion that she didn’t own a television. She attended church as often as possible. A
nd she berated her daughter about her dress and her behavior so constantly that even after years out from under her mother’s roof, she still dressed conservatively.
Until I forced my way into her life, that is.
I couldn’t help the smile that burst onto my face when Sam opened her door and she was wearing a soft blue dress that showed more knee than I’d seen last night in her dark bedroom. It was actually still a conservative dress, really. It had long sleeves and the top came to just above the convergence of her collarbones. And the skirt was a lovely collection of layers, each thinner than the one below, but still layer upon layer, making her hips look slightly wider, her thighs a little heavier. It was flattering, really. But I would have loved to have seen just a little more cleavage.
“For you,” I said, pulling a bouquet of red roses out from behind my back.
Sam giggled, taking the bouquet and shoving it all up against her face to take a deep breath of the soft fragrance.
“Lovely!”
“It is, isn’t it?”
But I wasn’t talking about the roses. I slid a hand around her waist and pulled her out onto the stoop with me, stealing a hot little kiss from her luscious pink lips. She moaned, melting into me before she suddenly pulled away.
“Don’t distract me!”
She turned around and bounced into the condo, her hips swaying and that skirt doing this sexy little motion behind her. I felt myself growing hard just watching her, ideas of what I was going to do to her tonight filling my head. I had to shake myself, to once again remind me of where it was we were headed.
“Do you think your mother will be happy to meet me?”
Sam peeked around the corner of the kitchen; her eyebrows were arched in a way that was meant to be stern, but just came off as a sort of sexy comical.
“My mother is never pleased to meet anyone in my life. She thinks I should be living the life of a nun, going nowhere but to church three times a week, which might make sense if we were Catholic…”
“What are you, exactly?”
“My mother is Baptist. I’m…I haven’t been to church since I left for boot camp. Another thing my mother holds against me.”
“Your lack of church participation, or boot camp?”
“Both.”
“I still can’t believe you were in the Marines.”
“A lot of people don’t believe it.”
She ducked back into the kitchen, taking the roses to the sink so that she could trim the stems and set them in water. I walked up behind her, pressing myself against her back as I reached for the bottle of whiskey behind the cereal.
“A little fortification,” I said when she gave me a side stare.
“You’re driving.”
“Yeah.”
I poured a healthy slug into a glass and handed it to her. She laughed, but then she downed it in one swallow.
Impressive.
“Okay,” she said a moment later. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Yep. Let’s go, grandma.”
She slapped my arm, but then she laughed, falling into me as I pulled her close to me. We walked out of the condo wrapped in each other’s arms, stealing a few kisses as we stumbled toward my car. I kissed her properly as I held the passenger door closed, not allowing her to get in until she kissed me back. And what a kiss it was!
The drive to her mother’s house wasn’t terribly long. She lived in one of the small Houston suburbs where the houses were all cookie cutter copies of the ones beside them. I pulled into the drive, my hands shaking just a little. It felt like I was about to put myself in front of the firing squad; I didn’t like it. But then I looked over at Sam and saw her self-consciously tugging at her skirt.
“Don’t,” I said, sliding my hand over hers. “You look beautiful.”
“I should have chosen something with a longer skirt…not that she would have approved of that, either.”
“You shouldn’t dress to please anyone but yourself.”
She glanced at me, her lips parted to argue.
“I know I teased you, but that had nothing to do with what you were wearing.” I leaned close, nibbled at her bottom lip for a second. “Didn’t you ever have some little boy punch you in the arm because he wanted to sit next to you during story time?”
“Do you want to sit next to me during story time?”
“Very much.”
She sighed as she kissed me, her lips so soft and sensual that I was getting to the point where I thought I might have to sit out dinner for fear of losing a little control. But then she pulled back and pushed her door open, reluctantly climbing out of the car, at the same time causing a rush of cold air over me. Talk about cold showers.
We held hands to the front door, which was wrenched open before we could even finish our little walk.
“Took you long enough. Do you really have to put on such a show in front of my house where all my neighbors can see?”
“Hello, Mother,” Sam said, leaning in to kiss the woman’s cheek.
I watched the two women, shocked, to be honest, at how young and beautiful Sam’s mother was. She couldn’t have been much over forty and she had the same soft auburn hair and light eyes that Sam had. She wore an unflattering gray sweater over dark slacks, but it didn’t hide the fact that she still had curves that were very much like her daughter’s. They could have passed for sisters in a different world, a world where Mrs. Wagner didn’t wear a permanent scowl on her face.
“Mother, this is Hayden Dubois. He works with me at Dragon.”
Mrs. Wagner didn’t even look at me. She simply turned and led the way into her house.
“That place is a bed of corruption. I’ve told you time and again that I don’t like you working there.”
“I know, Mother. But I like working there. I like working with Megan.”
“And those people!” Mrs. Wagner shook her head. “I never should have allowed you to be friends with that girl. The things she’s exposed you to! And that Peter…is there no wonder that God saw fit to smite him down?”
“Mother—”
“I told you, people with money lose their sense of morals. You’d have been better off going with me to church instead of spending time with them. Now look at you. Not going to church, fighting in the heathen military, and now bringing home one of Megan’s warriors.” She shook her head, clearly disapproving. “I knew your soul was tainted, but I thought I could save you from going to hell. I guess I was wrong.”
“Mrs. Wagner, you have no—”
Sam touched my chest, shaking her head vigorously in the negative. I frowned, looking down at her in confusion. But I respected her enough to keep my mouth shut—even if I wanted to tell that woman a few things.
Sam took my hand and drew me to the dining room table. It was set for dinner with chipped plates and cracked glasses.
“Not the nicest dinnerware, I know,” Mrs. Wagner said, catching my glance. “But I don’t believe in wasting money on finery. I get by with what I have. Everything else goes to the church.”
“It’s fine, Mrs. Wagner.”
“It used to embarrass Samantha, didn’t it?”
Sam blushed a little, but she shook her head. “Of course not, Mother.”
“You would never invite that Megan to dinner.”
“I did. You wouldn’t allow it. You said you wouldn’t waste your resources on someone who had everything she could ever desire already.”
Mrs. Wagner smiled. “You do remember things quite clearly, don’t you? Too bad you don’t remember the Bible verses I read to you every night.”
“I’m sorry, Mother.”
It was getting to be too much, this back and forth between them. I could see Sam growing smaller and smaller with every word out of her mother’s mouth. But every time I tried to say something, she cut me off, shooting me a look that begged me to behave. It was getting hard, let me tell you.
We dined on an overly wet meatloaf and chunky mashed potatoes with overcooked gre
en beans. I picked at my food, watching Sam over the top of my wine glass—filled with some sort of Kool-Aid.
“How long have you known my daughter?” Mrs. Wagner suddenly asked.
“Three years.”
The woman studied me a long moment, then shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. How long have you known her carnally?”
“Mother!”
Sam stood, glaring down at her mother. Mrs. Wagner wouldn’t look at her.
“Why don’t we go get dessert?” Sam suggested in a barely controlled voice.
Mrs. Wagner offered a mild excuse and followed Sam into the kitchen. Not a minute later, I could hear them yelling.
“What are you doing? He’s a guest in your house and you ask him a question like that?”
“Well, look at yourself, Samantha. You’re dressed like a harlot straight out of the Bible.”
“I’m dressed the same way all other girls of my generation dress. This is the modern world, Mother, not Biblical times.”
“You’d be better off living in Biblical times. Your father— Your soul was darkened just by the manner of your conception. But you could have turned to the Bible. You could have become something better. But you followed the wrong path.”
“I’m not a bad person, Momma. And I wanted this night to be special. I wanted you to meet someone who is very important in my life. Why couldn’t we just have a nice night?”
“Because you bring sin into my house. Am I supposed to just turn a blind eye to it?”
That was about when I’d had enough. I got up and marched to the kitchen door, ready to pull Sam out of there, a polite excuse on my tongue. But just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, they suddenly did.
“You were such a good girl. When you were little, you were so good. You said your prayers every night, sat with me at church so quietly—so pious, so unlike all the other little girls your age. Everyone admired you and talked about what a well-behaved child you were. But then you met that Megan Bradford girl and you began acting out, rolling up the hem of your skirts and wearing bright colors. You became a whore just like the rest of them!”
Mrs. Wagner turned away from Sam. She gripped the edge of the sink and held on as if she were stuck in the middle of an earthquake.
HAYDEN (Dragon Security Book 5) Page 9