by Julie Miller
“Get the name,” Damon ordered. “And tell him to clear out his desk.”
“Is there a problem?”
“If anything happens to Kit there will be.”
Easting’s tone changed. “I’ll get right on it.” He picked up another line and put a call through to his assistant. “What else do you need?”
“Find the route for city bus 2705. I want to know every stop it makes south of Eighteenth Street.”
“You’re not…riding the bus, are you?” Was that surprise that he was leaving the penthouse before midnight? Or that he was planning to do some serious interacting with the outside world? “I can send a car for you.”
“I have a car.” Damon hadn’t quite considered what he was about to do, either. But like any challenging equation, he’d figure it out before he was done. “Transfer the information to this number as soon as you have it.”
“Do you want me to dispatch another guard?”
“No.” The elevator door opened. “I’ll handle it.”
Damon closed his phone and passed through the lobby into the night.
Mental note: Lock Kit Snow in her room. Better yet, lock her in mine.
It was the only way he could keep her from investigating things on her own and putting herself in the line of fire.
It was the only way he could stop the fear that twisted in his stomach. Fear that his world had forever tarnished hers.
Fear that he couldn’t keep her safe from his enemies.
Or her own good intentions.
Chapter Nine
Kenny-with-the-almond-eyes linked his arm through Kit’s, jammed the barrel of his gun into the folds of her coat and guided her off the bus at Forty-seventh Street.
During the holiday season between Thanksgiving and New Year’s, the old-monied Country Club Plaza area of Kansas City was one of the most popular shopping and tourist destinations in the Midwest. But in the drudge of January weather, the boutiques, art museums and specialty restaurants belonged to the locals. The shops closed early, the parking lots were half empty, and the sidewalks that once teemed with musicians, artists and holiday shoppers were nearly deserted.
“What did you do to Matt?” Kit asked, stepping off the curb and sinking into a crystallized snowbank. The cold water that soaked into her boots didn’t chill her so much as the gleeful smile that never left his face. He had a gun, an attitude, and he hadn’t answered one of her questions.
“C’mon, babe.” As Kenny tugged her on across the four-lane street, Kit sized up whether he was tall enough to have been the man who’d injected her with the 428 serum at the hospital. But poor Kenny was a shrimp, not any taller than she was. No wonder he exuded all that bravado. Could he have been the shorter man who’d attacked Helen? Maybe this abduction had nothing to do with either of the attacks on Helen or her.
Maybe Kit was just having a very bad week.
“I don’t think a boy with zits on his chin should be calling me babe.” Or carrying weapons or messing with her life. “Where’s Matt?”
He answered by jabbing the gun into a rib and bruising her, then laughing at her hiss of pain as they passed another couple strolling past. “All you were supposed to do was follow me out of the diner.”
“Why?”
“Because we wanted you out of the diner. Duh.”
“Who’s we?”
Kenny swore at how easily he’d slipped. Obviously he wasn’t the brainy partner of whomever the “we” consisted of. “In here.” He shoved her toward a bank of windows surrounding the stairs and escalators that led to the different floors of a multistory mall. “Go down.”
By the time they’d descended two levels on the escalators, Kit could see the sweat beading on Kenny’s upper lip. They hadn’t been inside long enough to warm up yet. That young man was nervous. An observation that emboldened Kit to keep talking.
“Why did you need me out of the diner?” Germane would be closing up, then heading to his apartment on the second floor. Was he safe?
“We have…” He wiped the sweat on the parka sleeve, then ground the gun into the same sore spot again, just to remind her who the tough guy was here. “There’s work to be done.”
“You’re part of the construction team working on remodeling the building?” Not likely. He was anything but a burly, calloused construction worker.
“Shut up. In here.” He stopped at the entrance to the Black Hole Internet Café and ushered her inside.
A modern cousin to Hannity’s Bar, the Black Hole was dark and crowded. The air smelled of coffee rather than booze, and the sounds were more hushed, but Kit still had a sense that there was something in the shadows waiting for her. Something she needed to find and understand before it was too late.
At each round table, there was a small lamp and a computer. At each seating group, there were plug-ins and access ports where personal laptops could be used. Kenny led her to a sofa back in the darkest corner, where only the strings of star lights on the walls and ceiling provided any illumination. A pair of college-age girls hovered nearby, debating whether they should set their mugs or their butts down first. Kenny made the decision for them. “Move.”
Kit supposed that from the shadows, even a runt with a zit on his chin could intimidate if he dropped his voice to the right pitch.
The girls took off in a huff, and Kenny pushed Kit down on the cushions and took a seat beside her. “What is going on here?” she demanded. “Tell me about Matt. Is he okay? Did you hurt him?”
“I need to make a call first. Then we’ll discuss Matty.”
Matty? Kenny-wanna-be-a-big-man knew her brother well enough to call him by his nickname?
Oh, God, Matty. What have you gotten yourself into?
Kenny plopped Matt’s backpack on the coffee table and pulled out a laptop, a second box that looked like some type of battery pack with an antenna, a handful of wires and Matt’s cell phone. He dialed a number and tucked the phone against his ear while he plugged in the computer and connected all the accessories with a casual speed which indicated that what Kenny didn’t know about keeping his mouth shut, he did know about computers.
“Yo. It’s me.” His call must have picked up. “You won’t believe who I got sittin’ beside me here at work.”
Work? Kenny worked at the Black Hole? That explained the computer savvy.
His good humor faded. “You said our location had been compromised so I moved. I have the equipment here to set it up, and with my relay station in place, no one will be able to trace the source to us.” He swore. “Fine. To me.
“You said you needed to get her out of that place, and the opportunity was there, so I took it.” From the sound of things, someone was attacking Kenny Shrimp’s manhood. “If I was more like my father, then I’d be a helluva lot poorer and you wouldn’t have me on your team. Hey, my father turned down your offer as I recall. You needed a man with my vision to make this thing work.” He groaned. “I’m on it, already. Just give me a minute.”
He booted up the laptop and snapped his fingers to summon a waitress from the bar. While Kenny multi-tasked away, Kit took in every detail—from the short e-mail he read and responded to from a fellow Black Hole of the Universe address, to the lines of programming scrolling down the screen, to the way he pulled the pistol from Matt’s parka sleeve and slipped it into the waistband of his jeans.
“How do you know my brother?” Kit ventured to ask during a lull while Kenny waited for the response to a command.
“He comes in here sometimes.”
Matt hung out at a place like this? Not with a gang, as she’d feared, but with…computer geeks? Of course, this particular geek seemed to be doing something that wasn’t entirely legal on his souped-up laptop. And to her knowledge, Matt had never carried a gun. “Is Matty okay?”
“The truth is out there,” Kenny leaned over and whispered, patting the gun at his stomach. “Just remember it’s gonna stay out there if you try anything I don’t want you to.”
; He tapped the end of her nose with his fingertip and Kit had to clench her hands into fists in her lap to keep from slapping it away. “Where is Matt?”
The perky waitress from the bar came over and laid two napkins on the table. “Do you want the usual, Mr. Kenichi?”
Kenny held up one hand to silence her while he typed in commands with the other. “Karma’s right tonight, baby. You’re gonna be mine.” He pressed Enter, grinned with satisfaction, then tipped a grin up to their waitress. “Yeah, Sally. Bring one for the lady, too.”
“Two Galaxy Specials coming up.”
Whatever that was, Kit wasn’t having any. She unzipped her jacket and scooted forward to remove it. But Kenny was instantly there, pushing her back into the cushions and leaning over her. Kit caught her breath and held it. He had a hand on her shoulder and the gun pressed beneath her breast. “I said don’t try anything.”
Was it so dark in this place that no one could see the danger she was in? Was he such a well-loved or well-feared boss that no one dared to get in his way? He drew the gun along the curve of her breast in a sick simulation of a caress. “Unless this is what you wanted?” His dark-brown eyes glittered with a game she didn’t want to play. “I have to finish work first, baby. But I can oblige you later.”
Though her stomach roiled at his suggestive touch, she wisely fought back the urge to shove him off her. “I was just getting comfortable. Is that okay?”
“Okay.” She didn’t breathe until the gun disappeared and Kenny backed away. As he slowly retreated, she sat up and curled her right leg beneath her. She wedged her coat beneath her, too, propping herself up higher. He watched every movement, nodding his approval when she finally settled.
In reality Kit wanted to be high enough so that she could get a look at the other customers over the backs of sofas and chairs. He comes in here sometimes. One of them might be Matt.
The laptop beeped, and Kenny twisted away as though he’d been paged. Sparing Kit one more look to keep her in her seat, he pulled the phone back to his mouth and leaned over his keyboard. “We’re in. Oh, yeah, tonight’s gonna be the night.”
With the high-backed seats surrounding pools of light, it was hard to make out more than the silhouettes of people’s heads. Curly hair. Straight hair. Ball cap. Stocking cap. But no scruffy spikes of hair that reminded her of Matt.
It wasn’t so much a matter of Kenny leading her to Matt, anymore. Now she wanted to find Matt first, and get him away from Kenny.
If it wasn’t already too late.
She squelched that possibility back to the pit of her stomach and kept searching.
Short hair. No hair. Long hair. Wait. Kit’s gaze returned to the wingback chair in the group closest to them. But no, it had to be a trick of the light. Someone was wearing glasses with a strap holding them on. That silly little surge of hope was pointless. There was no dark guardian of the shadows to bail her out of this one. She’d gotten herself into this mess. Now she’d have to get herself—and Matt—out of it on her own.
“Two Galaxy Specials.”
Kit cradled the coffee concoction the waitress brought them between her hands. Kenny was typing furiously now, and Kit wondered if she could do more damage dumping the steaming brew over his head or into his lap.
She did neither, once she saw what Kenny was working on. A round, green-and-white logo flashed at the top left corner of his screen. The giant S was instantly recognizable. SinPharm. Sinclair Pharmaceuticals. Restricted: Password Required.
Kenny Yo-Baby was hacking into the SinPharm database. “What…?”
He turned expectantly, and she quickly averted her eyes to the steam rising from her mug. “What’s in this? It’s not bad.”
“Coffee and enough syrup and sugar to get your juices runnin’—if you know what I mean.” The party at the other end of the phone interrupted Kenny’s attempt to flirt. He swore in a language as foreign to Kit as the Far East, and as familiar as the alley behind her restaurant. He was one of Helen’s attackers! But before Kit could decide what to do with that information, he’d returned his full attention to the call. “No, I am not talking to you. Give me a break. Yes, I’m down to level two now. What you want is next.” He typed in a new command and his screen went blank. “Wait for it. Yes!”
Green numbers and letters spun at the center of the screen, rolling to a stop and aligning themselves one at a time like a Vegas slot machine. From the dancing Kenny was doing in his seat, he’d hit the jackpot.
“Told you I was the best. And Dad wanted to send me back to school.” Was Kenny talking to one of the other attackers? He slid a glance at Kit. “She’s still here. Well it worked, didn’t it? Fine. I’ll call you when I’m there.” He hung up and stuffed the phone into his pocket. “Make me a million dollars, baby. Oh, yeah, I’m two steps ahead of him tonight.”
The letters and numbers created a pattern that began to make more sense with every symbol that was added on.
A code. He was decrypting and downloading some kind of code. What did beating up little old ladies and computer hacking have to do with each other?
“C’mon, Matty. Make it stick.”
Kit’s thoughts shifted on a single word. “Matty?”
“Didn’t I tell you? Your brother and I have been working on a project together.” Kenny thumbed the zipper of the Chiefs parka he wore. “He’s even paying me for the privilege.”
“No.” The clipped denial was out before Kit could consider the wisdom of starting an argument with a man carrying a gun. “Matt wouldn’t break the law.” She pointed toward the laptop. “What you’re doing is illegal.”
“So turn me in.” Kenny laughed. “Baby bro will be sittin’ in the cell right next to me.”
“Where is he? What have you done to him?”
Only three more numbers were waiting to spin into place. Kenny watched the screen as he leaned back and snuggled against her. Kit tightened her fingers around her mug. Coffee in the lap was looking better and better all the time. He trailed a finger up her arm. “Matty came to me on a gift platter one day. Just like you did tonight.”
“He doesn’t know what you’re doing is illegal.”
“He might not. But he’s so psyched to get to play on all my equipment that he probably wouldn’t care.”
Two numbers were left spinning on the screen.
“What do you mean he’s paying for the privilege? What equipment are you talking about?”
The finger drifted over her collarbone and headed for a breast. “Matt’s a natural talent. Didn’t he tell you? He’s been coming to the Black Hole for about a year now. He’s a self-taught computer genius. Of course, unless you bring your own tools, you have to pay to play. He had some money from an inheritance he was using, but that ran out after a while. I offered him a job, but he said his sister and schoolwork were demanding too much of his time. Shame on you.”
He palmed her breast through her sweater and Kit flinched, sloshing coffee over the sides of her mug. She let the liquid scald her fingers as her loathing burned deep.
“Easy now.” Kenny took the mug and set it on the table. He curled his fingers around her arm and played with her wrist. Do not touch my hand. Do not try to hold my hand! The symbolic violation would be worse than any other adolescent grope he’d tried thus far. “It’s not your fault. He said he had a full-ride scholarship to go to some fancy school like my father wanted to send me to. That it was your parents’ dream, your dream. Just like it was my father’s dream. But it’s not ours.”
“Matty is nothing like you. He’s a confused teenager.”
The last number on the screen continued to spin.
“I think he knows exactly what he wants. When his money runs out at the end of the month, you know how he pays me? In trade.” A coat. A phone. A backpack. Helping Kenny hack into SinPharm’s computer system.
Kit was going to be ill.
“Whatever he owes you, I’ll pay it. Don’t ask him to do this.”
“You can�
��t offer the kind of money I’m making off this deal.” He reached the back of her hand. “Unless you want to work out some sort of trade, too.”
The numbers and letters exploded across the screen and drifted off the bottom of the picture. Kit snatched her hand away and covered her mouth to stifle a yelp of almost hysteric laughter. “Your program just crashed.”
“What?” Kenny shoved her aside and attacked his computer, typing frantically. But the numbers kept drifting away. “No. No!”
While he was so furiously distracted, Kit was quietly sliding away. Then a familiar crop of hair popped up from a chair near the coffee bar and she froze. “Matt?”
He pulled earphones from his ears as he gathered up a spiral notebook and pen and hurried toward them. “I’m sorry, man. I lost the stream. I think if we…Kit.” The intense concentration that lined his forehead lifted in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
He was alive and unhurt. Thank God. “What are you doing?”
“Son of a bitch.” Kenny’s screen was blank. “I had it. I had it!”
Clearly confused by Kit’s appearance, Matt stumbled over his words. “Who’s watchin’ the diner? I didn’t call, I know. This took longer than I, um…here.” He turned to Kenny and pointed to a line in his notes. “In this cell, there was a booby trap in the last level, and—”
“I don’t want your frickin’ notes!” Kenny leaped to his feet and knocked the papers from Matt’s hand. “Get back on your computer and we’ll do it again.”
“But if we don’t adjust…”
Kenny was reaching inside the parka. His gun!
Kit jumped up, damning the foot that had gone to sleep beneath her. “I need you at home. Now.” She clipped her shin on the coffee table and nearly cried at her inability to get Matt out of there fast enough. She tried to push him away as she stumbled. “Go. Just go.”
“Nobody’s leaving.” Kenny grabbed Kit’s arm and jerked her back to his side. He wasn’t making any effort to hide the gun he jabbed into her ribs.
Matt’s eyes widened. “Hey. Is that a—?”