“No. Talk. I love the sound of your voice. I told you, it’s sexy.”
A warm tremor fluttered high in her stomach. Her subconscious was definitely out to sabotage her. That’s probably why she’d wanted to speak out loud. He’d mentioned before that her voice sounded sexy. Of course, since their kisses, seeing his lips curve around the word conjured images, tastes and sensations. Not somewhere she should be allowing her thoughts to go. Maybe this isn’t such a good—
He turned his head before she could finish her statement and focused on the monitor. His brows gathered in a confused frown. “What exactly do you mean by a cipher?”
She followed his gaze to the monitor and let out a relieved breath. She could focus on decryption. She was comfortable with that, secure. She could talk about her work in her sleep. “To encrypt a disk, you apply a cipher to whatever data you’re trying to limit access to. Simple ciphers could be things like substituting numbers for letters or interchanging letters in the alphabet. More complex ciphers work according to sophisticated computer algorithms that rearrange data bits.”
“Let me guess, whoever recorded data on this disk used a complex cipher.”
“You win a prize. Of course, if I had the decryption key, this would be simple.”
“Decryption key?” He shook his head. “I sound totally clue free, don’t I?”
“A decryption key is an algorithm that undoes the work of the encryption algorithm.”
“Now you really lost me with that algorithm stuff.”
“Algorithm stuff? Let me guess, you didn’t like math class in school.”
“I got lost in the forest of basic algebra and never found my way out. Even though I left bread crumbs.”
She giggled. Oh, Lord, she was flirting. She took a deep breath. She’d have to put a clamp on that impulse. And fast. “I won’t go into the particulars, then.”
“Thank you.”
“But the basic concept isn’t that tough to understand.” She fell back into the comfortable groove of teacher mode. At least if she focused on explaining the concepts behind cold hard numbers, she could keep from making a giggling fool of herself. “To encrypt data, you basically apply your key to the data. So if I’m using a key of the number four and I want to encrypt the number fifteen, I add the number four to the one and to the number five.”
“Giving you fifty-nine.”
“Right. Of course, that’s a little simpler than what I’m working with, but you get the idea.”
“A little simpler?”
“Okay, a lot simpler.” She shot him a wry smile, careful not to let her gaze rest too long.
“So the key you’re talking about is a complex algorithm. At the risk of exposing just how ignorant I am, what exactly is an algorithm?”
“An algorithm is a formula for solving a problem.”
“A mathematical formula?”
“Yes. So instead of applying a single number to change the message, whoever encrypted this message applied a complex mathematical formula. I have to find the formula that undoes the encrypting formula.”
“More complicated than I’d even imagined. No wonder you have to use a computer to find this key.”
“Even with a computer, I have to run an amazing number of ciphers to find the right one. An almost infinite number, possibly. It can take a while.”
“How long?”
She focused on the monitor. The computer had finished running the last set of algorithms, but numbers still swam before her tired eyes. Not a list of any kind. Just several rows of numbers. And here she was sure this set was the charm. The ache at the back of her neck spasmed and spread between her shoulder blades. “At this rate, forever. I must not have the right key. I was sure this algorithm was the one. But all I’m getting are numbers.”
Mike bent forward. His head near hers, he squinted at the screen. “What if that’s what they encrypted? What if they’re trying to hide numbers?”
Cassie turned to stare at him. Of course. Why hadn’t she considered that? Her brain must be too tired. Or the trauma of the day before had made it short-circuit. “Jack thought the list might have something to do with names of investors.”
“Could be. Or records of money laundering or illegal profits. Maybe offshore accounts and these numbers could be amounts. There are a lot of possibilities.”
“It might be worth killing to keep that quiet.” She shuddered slightly at the thought of who they were trying to kill—her. “So the list Nick Warner mentioned might be a list of bank accounts? Bank accounts set up by Mitchell Caruthers, maybe? Maybe he did more than invest in TCM stock with his embezzled money. Maybe he did something illegal.”
“Maybe. Except that all the money he embezzled was accounted for.”
She considered this. “Maybe there’s money we don’t know about.”
Mike shrugged. “But there’s no evidence Caruthers was working with anyone. And seeing that he’s dead, I don’t see how he could have shot Kardascian.”
“Maybe it has nothing to do with Caruthers or Nick Warner. We don’t really know where this disk came from.”
“True,” Mike said. “But I don’t believe in coincidence.”
Neither did she. Frustration knotted her stomach. “It sure would help if I could figure out which of these numbers are important. And what they mean. I guess I have a bit more work to do.”
“You can do it tomorrow. Evangeline has ordered me to take you home.”
“Home?” He had to be joking. “Why so early?”
“It’s not so early, Cassie. It’s dinner time. Aren’t you hungry?”
She glanced through the tech room’s glass walls to the agent offices and cubicles. Lily’s cropped blond head bowed over the copier, no doubt trying to fix it after Angel did another number on the darn thing. Cameron paced the terra-cotta tile near the conference room. And she could see veteran agent Ethan Moore through the glass walls of Evangeline’s office, having one of his heart-to-hearts with the boss. No Angel. No Lenny. No John or Sara or any of the other agents who’d been in the office the last she’d looked. Could they have worked a full day and gone home or out for a dinner break while she’d been staring at the computer monitor?
She glanced back down at that monitor. Her shoulders sure hurt enough. But now that she’d had this breakthrough, she didn’t want to quit.
“You do need food. And sleep,” Mike said, as if reading where her thoughts were leading. “I talked to Evangeline. After what happened at your apartment this morning, we agreed it would be better if you stayed out at my ranch.”
“What?” Had she misread his lips? Had he really just said that he and Evangeline had decided where she’d stay without consulting her? And at Mike’s ranch, no less?
“Lily is going to stay at your apartment, in case our friends come back for another visit tonight. Cameron and Ethan are going to back her up.”
“She’s going to be a decoy?”
“Yes.”
Why Lily? Why not her? Did they think she couldn’t handle it? “Lily is shorter than me and she doesn’t exactly have my hair color or style, either. No one’s going to think she’s me.”
“She’ll wear a wig and a pair of heels. It’s not going to matter.”
“But I could stay there just as easily as she can. No, more easily, since it’s my home.” She knew her voice was rising. She could feel the vibration in her throat. But she couldn’t control it. Right now, she wanted to scream.
“Evangeline’s orders. And I agreed with her.”
“So that’s it? The two of you have made your decision about what I would do, and you didn’t even think to talk to me?”
“We both want you safe.” He held up his hand. “And don’t go into some spiel about coddling the deaf girl. Keeping you alive isn’t exactly coddling.”
“Making decisions without talking to me is worse than coddling.”
“Then you’ll just have to hate me. Because I’m not going to let whoever the hell was at your
apartment last night take another shot at you. And trying to make me feel guilty about it isn’t going to work.”
IT HAD TAKEN SOME DOING, but Mike had finally torn Cassie from her computer and forced her into her car, him at the wheel this time. They’d stopped at a fast-food restaurant and wolfed down hamburgers he was too tired to taste. Now he just had to get her back to the ranch where she could rest, with him and a state-of-the-art security system watching over her. In the battle over coddling the deaf girl, he’d won this round.
Not that he ever expected her to forgive him for it.
She sat in the passenger seat stiff as his dad’s new saddle, her arms folded across her chest, her jacket pulled tight around her. Twilight had plunged the mountains outside the car into blue shadow. The dashboard light glowed green on Cassie’s face, illuminating the hard clench of her jaw and turning her auburn hair nearly black.
Oh, well. He could handle her anger. Her contempt. As long as he didn’t let her down when it came to what mattered—keeping her alive—he could handle anything.
The inside of the car was silent except for the light hum of pavement under the tires. Any other time he’d switch on the radio. But somehow listening to music didn’t seem right. Not when Cassie couldn’t share it with him.
He was about to steal one more glance in her direction when headlights flashed in the rearview mirror. Headlights from what looked like a BMW. Headlights on a road no cars had reason to be on.
He stiffened.
He could feel Cassie’s gaze search his face in the dashboard glow. “What is it?”
He turned his head slightly so she could see his lips. “There’s a car tailing us.”
“How do you know? Couldn’t he just be driving out this way?”
“Not unless he’s lost. No one drives this highway this late at night, much less some guy in a BMW. And the only place out this way is mine. Besides, I saw this car earlier when we stopped for food.”
“You think it’s…” Her voice was hushed but calm. Calmer than he felt right now. “You think they’re after me? After the disk?”
He’d bet on it. And after last night, he wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. BMW was well armed.
Chapter Nine
Cassie gripped the armrest on the door with one hand and braced her other hand on the dash. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, making her teeth throb with each beat. The memory of watching that bullet explode off the brick wall slammed through her. And once again, she longed to cling to Mike, to wrap herself in the security of his arms and let him take care of her.
What was wrong with her?
She swallowed into a tight throat. Not willing to let Mike see how badly her hands were shaking, she forced her voice to function. “What are you going to do?”
He gripped the wheel, his hands calm, strong, in control. His lips moved, not a hint of the tremor she felt in her own. “I’m going to ask him why he’s following us.”
“What?” In her surprise, she realized she both spoke and signed the word.
“I’m going to ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing.”
“How? By pulling over and rolling your window down?”
His lips curved into a smile. A confident, in-control, damn sexy smile.
What was she thinking? “You aren’t really. Are you?”
“Watch.”
She gripped the armrest harder and held on. She hadn’t felt so out of control since college. But at the same time, she trusted Mike knew what he was doing, that it would work out.
And that strange sense of blind trust alone gave her reason to worry.
The engine of her little car started to whine. The dark, treeless swells outside her window whipped by. The road twisted this way, that way. Faster and faster. Leaving the BMW in the dust.
Cassie gripped the dash with one hand, the door with the other. She thought she might be sick.
“Hold on.” Mike turned the wheel. Cassie’s little car jetted to the left.
She gasped and held on. The car bumped and bucked under them, careening off the paved road and into a pair of dirt ruts she wasn’t aware were there. They drove in a half circle.
Mike hit the brakes just before they returned to the road. Setting the emergency brake, he threw his door open. “Stay here.”
In the flash of the dome light before the door closed, Cassie saw the gun in Mike’s fist.
She clawed at the handle of her own door. Ripping it open, she half fell out into the dirt. She pushed the door closed, dousing the light.
She could see Mike’s silhouette up ahead, dark against the moonlit road. She crept forward. She had no idea what she was doing out here. Or what she was going to do if anything bad happened. She might not be much when it came to backup, but she couldn’t let Mike face whoever was following them alone.
She followed Mike’s path. The road opened up before her. No, two roads. An intersection. Headlights emerged from around a curve and reflected off the stop sign.
Mike crouched between a jut of rock and a patch of scrub brush. Cassie fitted herself in behind him.
He turned his face to the side, the moonlight giving a blue cast to hard features. “I thought I told you to stay in the car.”
She raised her hands, choosing not to speak for fear she couldn’t control the volume of her voice. You need backup. And I’m it.
“You’re unarmed, Cassie. All you’re going to be out here is a target.”
I don’t see that you have much choice in who backs you up here, Detective. Beggars can’t be choosers.
Instead of a laugh, this time he shot her a warning look. “Stay here, then, will you? And if something goes wrong, hide.”
On the road, the BMW approached the intersection. It slowed, then stopped. Cassie could almost feel the driver’s confusion as he tried to decide which direction they’d taken.
Mike crept forward. Breaking into the exposure of the road, he launched into a run. He reached the BMW in a second, gun drawn and leveled on the car. His lips moved, body tense as if yelling.
Watching the scene from behind, Cassie wasn’t sure what he was saying. But judging from the startled expression of the driver and the speed with which he shoved his hands into the air, Mike’s ambush had worked the way he’d planned.
The driver spilled out of the car, his feet shuffling on the pavement as if he couldn’t move fast enough. The BMW’s dome light glowed from inside, exposing empty leather seats. The driver was alone.
Mike stood back from the man and barked orders Cassie couldn’t make out, his gun still trained on the man.
Hands straight above his head, the man turned around slowly, until he had completed a 360-degree rotation. He laced his fingers on top of his head, lowered himself to his knees and crossed his ankles behind him.
Well-dressed in a leather jacket, designer label slacks and Italian loafers, the man sported a haircut and trimmed goatee that must have come from one of Denver’s better salons. He sure looked like no thug Cassie had ever imagined. In the reflected light from his car, his face appeared to be flushed. Not as if he was afraid at all, but more as if he’d just finished his evening jog. He looked up at her, his eyelids slightly drooping.
Cassie found herself walking toward the car before she realized what she was doing. “Why are you following us?”
Mike held out a hand, warning her to stay back. He stepped to the man and ran his hand briskly over his sides. Then he backed up and moved to the side. “Okay, Cass. Come stand by me.”
Cassie did as Mike directed.
“And you. Answer the question. Why are you following us?”
The man shook his head, his elbows swinging with the movement. “It’s not what you think.”
“How in the hell do you know what I think?” Mike gestured with the gun. “One more time.”
The man’s throat convulsed as if he was struggling to swallow. Or breathe. “I was afraid…I didn’t know what else to do…I was afraid if I went to the offices, someone would see
me.”
“Offices?”
“Prescott Personal Securities’ offices,” he choked out.
Cassie forced her vocal chords to function. “Why are you trying to reach PPS?”
The man had the nerve to look at her as if she was no more important than a buzzing fly. Strange for a man who was on his knees with a gun barrel pointed at him.
He’d probably heard something off in the sound of her voice. Something that told him she wasn’t normal as he saw it. Too bad she didn’t care. “Answer.”
He focused on Mike. “I need to hire you. I need protection.”
“Why follow us? We’re nearly an hour out of Denver.”
“I went to the office, but I saw a car just sitting outside the building. I got nervous.”
He didn’t look nervous. He looked almost blasé. Cassie looked at Mike, hoping he was also picking up the strange vibe she was getting from this guy.
Mike’s attention was on the man. “Why am I not inclined to believe you?”
“Listen. You don’t know who I am.” The man raised his chin, as if once they knew his identity they’d be falling all over themselves begging for his forgiveness.
“So who the hell are you?” Mike demanded.
“James Durgin.”
The name didn’t register with Cassie. Mike stared at him blankly as if waiting for the punch line.
“I’m CEO of Claypool Incorporated. You have heard of Claypool.”
Cassie had. “It’s an energy company, right?”
Durgin drew himself up with as much dignity as a man in his position could manage. “I’m an important man in Denver.”
“Good for you,” Mike said. “Now why should I care?”
“Because I’m next.”
“Next?”
“Milo Kardascian called me the night before he died.”
Mike stiffened.
Durgin drew himself up as if he’d finally found the power he’d sought. He peered down his nose at Mike’s gun, quite a trick seeing that he was still on his knees. “Is the gun necessary?”
Mike didn’t move. “What did Kardascian say?”
“Treat me with respect, or you don’t need to know.”
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