by Loye, Trish
“Nice to meet you, Peter,” she said in a low voice. His smile widened. It was working. She was flirting. She wasn’t sure she’d ever flirted successfully before. “Tell me about your work.”
His eyes sparkled as he talked about superconductor resistors, but that wasn’t what she wanted to talk about.
“What would you use them in?”
He glanced around before leaning in closer to her. “I’m actually working on something that will help prevent wars.”
She frowned. How did he figure that? “Really? How?”
“A non-nuclear EMP device,” he stated proudly. “We could take out whole militaries or reduce terrorist organizations to inconsequential groups of men.” He must have seen confusion on her face because he became even more animated. “Look. If they don’t have access to the internet, or phones, or even trucks or cars, then they can’t recruit. Hell, they can’t plan attacks and they can’t get anywhere to attack anyone. Don’t you see? It’ll revolutionize our world.”
Oh, the poor naive man. Did he really think no one would use it against innocent people? He didn’t even realize he’d created a weapon on par with a nuclear bomb. She almost felt sorry for him.
If she’d been here at the conference just to learn, if she hadn’t come here to stop Spider, would she have met Peter and found him attractive? She’d probably be having the time of her life, learning and having men like Logan and now Peter show an interest in her. Men with brains who weren’t intimidated by her, men who found the things she did enthralling.
Or would she still have been attracted to a rough ex-soldier who lived on the wrong side of trouble? She swallowed against a dry throat and focused again on Peter.
“Do you play any racquet sports?” he asked her. When she shook her head, he kept talking. “I love squash. You should try it. It’s fast paced and yet you have to have a strategy.” He continued to talk and she watched the animation in his face.
The lights went dim.
“The speaker is about to come on,” Peter said. “Should be interesting, he’s talking about the use of nanotechnology in medicine.”
She nodded and obediently faced the front of the room, wondering when Jack was going to come by. How could she keep distracting Peter during a speaker?
Peter leaned over. “It’s so nice to meet a beautiful woman who isn’t afraid of being smart.”
He was nice. And sweet. She smiled.
And boring.
“Holy shit!” Peter said.
She jerked. “What?”
“I think your brooch just moved.” He pointed a finger at the micro-bug on her collar. Then he frowned. “Wait. Is that one of your surveillance cameras? Are you filming this?”
Her eyes widened. Crap. She thought fast through plausible excuses for having a surveillance camera on her shirt. “I’m…I’m testing the ability of the bugs to stay with a target for a period of time…just to see if they can handle being in the field.”
“Ah…so it’s not actually filming?”
She smiled and lied. “Of course not.”
He smiled back. “I’m so glad I met you. What session are you going to next?”
Oh no. “I need to get a bit of work done, so I was going to go back to my room after this.” Peter’s face fell. She had to get out of here. When was Jack going to grab the bag? She did a quick glance behind her just as someone went up to the podium at the front of the room.
Jack wasn’t behind her near the doors. She gave up pretending to be circumspect and scanned the area. He wasn’t around. Maybe that’s why the bug had started moving. Maybe Jack had left and if he was out of her presence too long then they’d hurt her aunt. Her heart started to race.
“Is something wrong?” Peter asked.
“No,” she said, standing up. “Well, actually yes.”
The man at the podium started to speak, introducing the keynote speaker coming up next. She bent down closer to Peter. “I have to go, I’m sorry. It was very nice to meet you.”
“Wait,” he said as she walked off. “Can I meet you later? For a drink?”
Not even a week ago, she would have been thrilled at the invitation. “I’ll catch up with you later,” she lied again, then turned away from his bright smile. She had to find out what went wrong. Where had Jack gone? Why hadn’t he gotten the bag?
She strode out into the open area outside the ballroom.
Jack wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
15
Charlie jogged lightly down the hall to her hotel room. She’d started out walking and slowly increased her speed with each thought that ran through her head. Why had Jack aborted? Had he been taken by Spider? Was she now on her own to save both him and her aunt?
Panic made her go faster, until she was sprinting and slammed into her room door, fumbling with her keycard.
The door opened before she could get her card sliding the right way. She blinked in surprise as a strong hand grasped her arm and hauled her into the room. She stumbled and found herself behind Jack, his arm held protectively in front of her while he checked the hall.
“What’s wrong?” he said. “Is someone after you?” The door swung shut as he assessed her, looking her up and down.
“No,” she said, panting from her sprint. He stood calmly, as if nothing was wrong.
He crossed his arms over his chest and arched one eyebrow. Anger rose inside her, replacing the panic that had sent her running to find him. How dare he stand there like nothing was wrong? “Where the hell were you?” she said. “Why’d you leave?”
He frowned. “Why would I stick around?”
“To get the freaking bag.”
His lips twisted. “I got the bloody bag. And you would have noticed if you hadn’t been so engrossed in your new friend, Peter.”
Heat flushed her face. “You told me to distract him.”
“Yes, but I didn’t tell you to distract yourself.” A muscle leapt in his jaw, then he took a step back and shook his head. “Fuck it. It doesn’t matter. We have his laptop. Why don’t you make sure the info is on it and we can figure out how to get your aunt back.”
The micro-bug on her collar took flight. She startled. She kept forgetting it watched them. The bug landed on the dresser, ready to record everything. “Remind me to destroy all those bugs when this is over.”
She grabbed Peter’s laptop from the satchel and opened it. Within a few taps on the keyboard, she cursed. “He doesn’t have a password. It’s looking for specific biometric recognition.”
“You mean like a fingerprint?”
“Yes, except this program is looking for iris recognition.” She showed him the laptop. A small window had opened, showing a view of the room. “It’s waiting for someone to put their eye close to the camera so it can scan it.”
“Is there a way around it?”
“I might be able to,” she said. And those were the last words she spoke for an hour, as she got lost in the attempt to hack into Peter’s laptop.
Eventually, she leaned back from the desk and sighed. “I might be able to get in if I had more time or more skill. I have neither.” She sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “An iris is like a fingerprint. Unique to each person. There is no way for us to break into his laptop.” She wanted to chuck the laptop across the room. “We need to get him to put his eye to the scanner.”
She flopped back on the bed and covered her face with her hands. This was an impossible task. The bed depressed beside her as Jack sat down.
“We can figure this out,” he said quietly. “Don’t give up on me.”
She pulled her hands away from her face. “What are we going to do? Walk up to him and say, hey, we’re the ones who stole your laptop. Mind looking into its camera so we can crack your hard drive?” This was too much. It was all too much. She shook her head in despair. “They’re going to kill my aunt.”
“Come on, Sherlock,” Jack said. He picked up her hand and rubbed his thumb over her palm in a half massage, half caress, s
ending tingles up her arm. “Use that big brain of yours,” he said. “Think your way out of this problem.”
She closed her eyes, but didn’t pull her hand from his. His touch soothed her, calmed the frantic fear that had begun to spiral through her, scattering her thoughts. She lay on the bed and focused. Jack was right. She had to take emotions out of it.
“We can’t get into this computer.”
Jack made a low noise, whether to agree or just to soothe she wasn’t sure.
“I can’t get around the software before tonight, so we need his eye.”
Jack’s thumb moved in slow circles on her palm. She exhaled a deep breath.
“He’s not going to agree to help us, unless we blackmail him.”
“Or kill him,” Jack said softly.
She frowned at him and then closed her eyes again. She would not kill for Spider, and they didn’t have to. “Hollywood has fed a lot of false myths when it comes to biometric scanning,” she said. “The eye degenerates quickly after death. We’d need to kill him and use his eye within minutes.”
“So, not a useful strategy,” he said dryly.
“No. Besides that, Peter’s a nice guy. He doesn’t deserve to die.”
“Peter has also devised a way to take out a whole city or even a country. He’s not as nice as you’re making him out to be,” Jack said, his voice gruff. “He wants you. He’ll pretend to be whoever he thinks you’ll like.”
“Holy crap, you’re cynical.”
“I’m right.”
She refused to open her eyes and kept still on the bed, but she didn’t take her hand from his caressing fingers. “We’re not killing him.”
“Blackmail, then?”
“It’ll take too long.”
His fingers kept caressing hers, lulling her. “What’s the plan, then?”
Her mind drifted. They needed a scan of Peter’s iris. Her eyes popped open. “We don’t need him. We need a scan of his iris,” she said triumphantly.
“Yes,” Jack said dryly. “That’s what we’ve been talking about.”
She sat up and pushed off the bed. “We don’t need him. We need a scan, or rather a picture, of his iris.” She grabbed her laptop and starting typing. “Twelve megapixel camera should do it. But we need to be within a couple of feet.” She grinned. “Much more doable.”
“So he’s going to let you take a picture of his eye after his laptop was stolen? Right around the same time he met you? Charlie…he’s going to link the two.”
She set her computer aside. “Not if I say my laptop was stolen, too.”
* * *
Jack strode across the lobby with Charlie beside him. Light from the setting sun sparked off the huge chandelier. The lobby was busy with people staggering in slump-shouldered and bearing parcels. Returning tourists. It must be close to dinner.
Charlie aimed for the front desk and hadn’t even seen the two coppers speaking with a manager there. Fuck, he had a bad feeling about this.
“Charlie, maybe we should reconsider.”
“Have faith,” she said.
She hadn’t seen them yet, but they’d seen her. The manager pointed and the cops’ gazes locked on them.
Jack considered their options in a split second. Run. Fight. Bluff. Charlie moved right up to the counter and rapped on it.
“I want to report a robbery.”
The cops walked toward them, assessing him as they did.
Bluff it was.
He nodded at them and turned his attention back to Charlie, as if he didn’t know why they were there. Because he was so fucking innocent.
At that moment, Charlie pulled out her cell and looked at it. She froze.
“Sherlock?” he whispered. She still didn’t move. He reached over and took her phone. Someone had texted her a picture. It was of an older woman’s brown-skinned hand. Thankfully, still attached to the owner. But the implication was clear.
Not for long.
Jack caught her eye, and the fear swirling there made him want to throw the phone, smash the bug, and take her away somewhere safe. He had to satisfy himself with sliding her phone into his pocket and squeezing her hand. “We can do this.”
“Did you say robbery, ma’am?” the first copper asked as he stepped up to them. He stood taller than his mate by about fifteen centimeters and wider too, like a rugby player. The other man was slim and pale. Jack didn’t quite dismiss him, because sometimes the little guys could surprise you.
Charlie whirled to them when the cop spoke, her mouth forming an ‘O’ of surprise.
He squeezed her shoulder when she seemed at a loss for words. “Why don’t you tell them about your laptop?”
She looked at him, her gaze uncertain, that fucking fear still present. He wanted his Sherlock back.
He nodded to her. She could do this. His confidence must have rubbed off, because she took a breath and straightened her shoulders. Her voice when she spoke was haughty, like she was channeling Dr. Douchebag.
“My laptop was taken and I think Dr. Peter Anderson was the one who took it.”
“Would you like to file a report, ma’am?” the shorter one asked, his voice deep for such a small man.
Her eyes widened. Christ, she really needed to work on her poker face. Jack stepped in. “Dr. Singh believes she can clear this up by speaking with Dr. Anderson. No need to involve the police.”
The rugby player studied him. “And who might you be?”
Charlie spoke at the same time he did.
“Her lab assistant.”
“My boyfriend.”
Her boyfriend? Well, wasn’t that an interesting choice she’d made.
Based on their frowns, the cops didn’t think so. Charlie met Jack’s gaze and he arched a brow. Her smile was completely fake as her cheeks pinked.
“If you’ll follow us, ma’am. We have some questions,” the small one said.
“You too, Lab Boy,” the rugby player said.
Charlie snorted. Jack couldn’t be angry with the cop, since for that brief moment, Charlie had been able to forget their problems and smile.
And he liked it. Besides, he’d be her Lab Boy any day.
The cops led them to a private room, where the manager opened the door. Peter sat at a table inside. “You,” he said to Charlie, standing. “Did you steal my laptop?”
Charlie scowled. “What? I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“What? Why?”
She rolled her eyes and laid on the sarcasm. “Because someone stole my laptop at lunch. And I sat with you. Duh.”
He held up his hands. “I didn’t take it.”
“Well, I didn’t take yours.”
The cops watched the back and forth carefully. Meanwhile, Jack leaned back against a wall and silently applauded Charlie’s acting. She seemed to be getting into the role.
Charlie’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and discreetly checked it. Another text.
CHOP CHOP
He was going to kill that fucking wanker.
“Are we boring you?” the rugby cop said to him.
He gave a big smile. “Not at all, mate.”
* * *
“Jack, may I have my phone?” Charlie asked, holding out her hand. He didn’t want to give it to her, but with the cops watching he didn’t have a choice.
When she read the text her eyes darkened, but she quickly swiped it off. She sat in a chair at the table and kept the phone in her lap.
Peter blew out a breath and flopped into the chair beside her. “It looks like the conference is being targeted by a thief of some sort.”
“Has anyone else been hit?” she asked innocently, and turned to look at the cops. Her fingers started to move on the screen of her phone. Was she texting Spider back?
“We’re checking into that, ma’am,” the small one said. “For now we just have a few questions.”
“Can I go, then?” Peter asked. “I answered all of them already.”
“We’
d appreciate if you stayed with us a bit longer, sir.”
Peter huffed and sat in his chair.
The small cop began asking simple questions, like when they’d seen their laptops last and whether they had met any suspicious characters.
“Well, she’s right here,” Peter muttered.
“You think I’m suspicious?” Charlie asked, stopping her discreet typing on her phone.
“Oh, come on,” he said throwing his hands up. “A gorgeous woman sits down beside me, is actually interested in what I do and understands my work. And that’s not suspicious?”
Jack almost grinned. He had to agree with the man. It did seem a little on the fantasy side of things.
“I happen to love physics,” Charlie said. “And I have advanced degrees in both it and engineering.”
Jack raised an eyebrow at her defense. She was actually getting hot and bothered by Peter’s accusations.
Peter just shrugged.
“You saw me speak. You know I’m the real thing,” she continued.
Peter leaned back in his chair. “Yes, you are,” he said. “You’re a smart, gorgeous woman. So I had to question why you would sit with me. Yes, I thought it was suspicious, but only because things like that never happen to me.” He smiled in a boyish, almost sheepish way.
She stared at him and then smiled. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
A wave of jealousy made Jack clench his fists. She should be smiling at him like that. He thought she was beyond gorgeous. But then again, maybe having one of her peers say it meant more to her.
“We all think you’re gorgeous,” Jack said in a rough voice. Peter frowned at him, but he didn’t care what the bloke thought. Charlie, though… He found he did care what she thought. She gave him a shy sweet smile, and his shoulders relaxed.
“This is better than the soaps,” the rugby cop said, his gaze swiveling between the three of them.
His partner frowned. “If you like that sort of thing.” He looked at them all. “We need you to wait here for a few minutes more while we call this in.” He left the room and the rugby cop followed.
Charlie stood. “Peter, can you take a picture of us?” she asked brightly.
She handed him her phone and moved to stand by Jack, who frowned down at her. They needed a picture of Peter, not of themselves. What was going on in that big brain of hers?