I Gotta Feeling

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I Gotta Feeling Page 4

by Kress, Alyssa


  "Goddard did have some disturbing news," Meredith admitted.

  Felix slowed as the town of Deer Creek appeared in the dusk through his headlights. "Go on."

  "Two more lab workers seem to have disappeared. Goddard didn't realize they'd gone missing until today, when he double-checked his records. They haven't been seen since Benjamin took off."

  Felix pushed down a new surge of concern. "Interesting," he murmured. "It sounds like Benjamin recruited some flunkies."

  "Could be. Have you learned anything useful out there in the boondocks?"

  Felix wished he could have answered in the affirmative. Unfortunately, the only thing he'd learned was that his hormones were alive and active. Indeed, it had been some time since he'd responded to a woman with as much...energy as Aletheia had aroused. Even Elsa Morrison hadn't gotten his attention so powerfully, and the only thing Felix and Elsa had had going for their marriage had been sex.

  Felix's lashes lowered thoughtfully as Aletheia's Asylum passed slowly on his right, the hanging lamps now dimmed. His sexual interest was under control, of course. Nothing was going to get in the way of restoring the Cloak to its rightful owner. But it would be a while before Felix would forget Aletheia's long, capable hands, her forest-colored eyes, and the way her mouth might have tasted if he'd followed his crazy impulse on the porch and kissed her.

  But thinking was far short of doing. Felix was always in charge of his impulses.

  Besides, when last seen Aletheia had been more likely to stick a rusty implement into him than entertain a sexual advance.

  Felix breathed out slowly, emptying his mind of a surprising regret that Aletheia hated him. He'd learned not to care how people felt about him, particularly women. Only pain lay in caring.

  "Did Benjamin's sister know anything about where he might be?" Meredith asked.

  Felix breathed in again. "No, she didn't know anything." He was fairly certain. Aletheia's shock at learning Benjamin was not safe at home in Atlanta hadn't been feigned.

  "So, now what?" Meredith wanted to know.

  Felix dismissed his memory of Aletheia's hands and the spark of feminine interest he'd seen in her eyes. He focused on the iron control she wielded over a large and difficult family.

  "So now we keep tabs on the GPS tag I planted on Aletheia Cooper's car." Felix's rented Lexus passed the last building in Deer Creek. "She may not know where Benjamin is today, but if I were betting on it, I'd say she will."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was a quiet neighborhood in the hills northwest of downtown Los Angeles. In the semi-dark of a city night, Benjamin parked his car a few blocks from his destination. He got out warily.

  The street under the spreading eucalyptus trees was empty. Thankful that nobody ever walked in L.A., Benjamin started down the buckled sidewalk, though he checked regularly behind himself, just in case.

  Pi would never forgive Benjamin if he ended up bringing to Pi's door the very people from whom he was running.

  After four days, Benjamin was still shaking over what he'd learned at Goddard Research and Design. He wasn't about to stop shaking either, knowing that by now they realized he knew.

  Finally, Benjamin could see Pi's house, a boxy rust-colored structure nearly covered by shrubs and trees. He hadn't bothered trying to call ahead. Pi thought telephones were impossible to keep secure, and Benjamin, in his current circumstances, thought his old high school friend was probably right.

  Pi's front door was past a left turn in a thick hedge, completely screened from the street. Benjamin relaxed a bit once he was out of sight. He knocked softly.

  No answer. Benjamin spent another ten minutes knocking, silently swearing to himself when nobody answered the door.

  The key. Pi had told Benjamin where to find his spare house key. All of Pi's careful instructions from long ago were sure coming in handy, Benjamin thought, squeezing past the hedge to get to the backyard.

  Bamboo and hydrangea boxed the cramped yard and blocked what little light might have filtered in from the lampposts on the street. Swearing some more, Benjamin fumbled along the stone edges of Pi's goldfish pond, his fingers searching for the key.

  With a quiet oath of gratitude, he found it, wedged between two rocks. He could get in the house now, but he really needed Pi. Pi could help. Pi knew how to make people disappear. Benjamin badly needed to disappear.

  Once he'd found out what was going on at the lab, Benjamin had had to destroy the wiring, the "brains," of the cloaking device. Regarding this destruction he had no qualms. The Cloak had become a very dangerous commodity.

  More difficult to figure out had been what to do afterward. He didn't know where to turn, who to trust.

  The key fit in Pi's back door, which opened easily. Feeling like a wild animal, Benjamin paused on the threshold, holding his breath, listening. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he'd deactivate Pi's elaborate alarm system.

  Silence greeted Benjamin. No. Not silence. He heard a scratching sound followed by the glow of a match.

  Benjamin froze. They'd gotten here ahead of him. Somehow, they'd figured out he was coming. His heart stopped.

  The small sphere of light from the match revealed a woman's face. The face was young and strikingly pretty, something Benjamin noticed despite her erratically chopped, rainbow-hued hair. She gazed at him through thick black eye makeup.

  His heart resumed beating. Not one of them, after all. This had to be Pi's latest girlfriend.

  "Who are you?" Benjamin realized the question was ridiculous even as he asked it. He was the intruder. But he closed the door behind himself and asked another one. "Where's Pi?"

  The woman regarded him calmly, then brought a candle up to the match and lit it. She sat cross-legged on a mat rug. She was small, except for a pair of breasts that were definitely big enough to be interesting. Her clothes looked like rags, but Benjamin suspected they were designed to appear that way. Her general look was sexy, fun, and more than a little wild.

  Leave it to Pi. He was the only one of Benjamin's circle who had a regular supply of hot women rolling through his life.

  "You found the key, you must be a good friend of Pi's," the woman observed.

  "Where is he?" Benjamin repeated.

  In the dim light Benjamin saw the young woman's face briefly darken. "Pi disappeared."

  Shit. Absorbing his disappointment, Benjamin asked, "Why?"

  "He said the U.S. Post Office was going through his mail. The FBI was collecting records. It was a grand conspiracy."

  In other words, the usual. Pi was a well-known and respected expert on Internet security. He was more than a little paranoid.

  "How long ago did he leave?" Benjamin asked.

  The woman lifted a shoulder. "A couple days."

  This was bad news. When Pi succumbed to his paranoia and took off, it usually lasted a few weeks.

  "Damn," Benjamin whispered. The whole way from Atlanta he'd been counting on Pi. If there was nobody he could trust about the Cloak, then at least he could disappear.

  The woman rose to her feet. She did it effortlessly, like a dancer. In the flickering light of the candle, Benjamin got a hit of her steamy, primitive sexuality. It was so powerful that even in his terrified state it distracted him.

  She gave him a sultry look. "Do you have anything to eat?"

  Benjamin's mouth opened. "What?"

  "The refrigerator is running low," she informed him.

  "Well, I sure don't have any food on me." In fact, if he'd thought about it, he would have raided Pi's refrigerator, himself, before shoving off again—to wherever he should go. Benjamin was limiting himself to cash and didn't know how long his stash would last.

  "The cabinets don't have much left in them, either," the woman admitted with a sigh. Holding the candle, she started to lead the way to the kitchen.

  Wondering where he should head, himself, Benjamin found his gaze drawn toward the snug fit of the ripped jeans over her butt. If he weren't so stressed, he'd
definitely be jealous of Pi. Aloud he said, "I'd better go."

  She whirled to face him. "You just got here."

  "I know, but if Pi isn't around—I have to leave."

  "You can't—" There was a strained, nearly panicked tone in her voice before she abruptly stopped and appeared to calm herself. She came toward him, lifting the candle to shed light over Benjamin where he stood in his wrinkled business shirt and tired jeans. "You're in trouble," she remarked serenely.

  No shit, Sherlock. Benjamin lifted his chin. "I just came to see Pi."

  "No." The woman stepped closer, examining him. "You haven't shaved in days."

  He'd stayed at campsites for the past four days, and had wanted to spend as little time as possible in the communal bathroom.

  The woman stretched out her free hand. Startling Benjamin, she laid it against his stubbled cheek. He could smell her subtle, pungent scent, feel the warmth of her skin.

  Her eyes were a pale color, gleaming in the dim light. "What happened?" she asked.

  She was close enough he could see the gold stud in her left nostril. The drooping shoulder of her blouse revealed the curving lines of a tattoo. To Benjamin, all this looked like a resumé for wild sex. And she had her hand on his face. The combination of messages so confused him that he had to reach to remember her question. What happened?

  He swallowed. "I can't tell you."

  Thick lashes lowered halfway down her eyes. "That's okay. You can stay here."

  Did she mean that the way Benjamin heard it? His brain had to be fried from all the days of anxious tension. She couldn't be sexually inviting him. Women who looked like her did not sexually invite Benjamin Cooper.

  "Y-you don't have any food," Benjamin thought to point out. Besides, someone would eventually think to check with Pi if they were looking for Benjamin.

  "We could buy food."

  Benjamin took a step back. "I have to leave."

  She stepped after him. "I'll go with you."

  Benjamin's eyes flew wide. "What?"

  She stroked the side of his face again. "If you're worried about Pi, he's forgotten all about me. He didn't even leave me enough food."

  "I'm not worried about Pi," Benjamin said, truthfully. If Pi was going to leave a bombshell like this behind, he deserved to get robbed of her. "But I'm on the ru— I mean, I'm in an awful hurry."

  "I can go fast," the woman claimed.

  The idea of taking another person on his frantic flight, let alone a person of such eye-popping distinctiveness, made Benjamin want to laugh. "I...really think I'd better travel alone."

  Her eyes flashed. Once again, Benjamin caught a sense of panic. "You'd better?" she asked. "Are you sure?" Then, to Benjamin's utter astonishment, she stretched up on tiptoe and pressed her plump lips to his.

  He was so surprised, his lips parted.

  Her tongued darted in. Her firm-soft body pressed against his chest.

  Benjamin was probably the equivalent of dry timber in brush fire season. To his embarrassed regret, he did not have a lot of sexual experience. So now, despite his fear and anxiety—or maybe because of them—he went up in flames. His mouth clung to hers and his fingers clamped around her upper arms.

  Somewhere deep in the rational recesses of his brain he realized she was playing him. She was clearly a professional leech, clinging like a limpet to any man who would care for her. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't mind a leech, especially if she looked like this. If she kissed like this.

  But these were not normal circumstances. Even as they kissed, he did remember. He had to get out of there. He had to find someone who could help, someone he could trust. Mostly he had to prevent the bad guys from catching him. He, or what was in his brain, was as dangerous as the Cloak.

  When her lips finally parted from his, Benjamin could hear his own heavy breathing.

  "Take me with you," she whispered.

  "Impossible," Benjamin groaned. He was totally revved for her, his body wanting to grab her again—but it'd be completely nuts. He needed to travel fast, and he needed to be alone, with complete secrecy.

  He stepped back from her. "I have to go." He'd stay at another campsite, rack his brains for another trusted friend.

  Turning quickly from the woman, Benjamin reached the back door. He opened it a crack, looked around, then slipped outside.

  She slipped out right behind him.

  "Huh? No!" Benjamin whirled to face her. "Don't you get it? I'm not a guy you can hang onto. I'm barely hanging in there, myself. This is...dangerous."

  "I'm not getting left behind." Her voice held a new, hard quality.

  Benjamin stared at her. It occurred to him she might do something drastic if he left her behind, especially if she was mad at him. What if she claimed he was a burglar to the police? Someone might recognize his description and put two and two together.

  Benjamin lifted his hands. "Okay, okay, if it's that important to you. Your funeral. What's your name, anyway?"

  She relaxed and gifted him with a sultry smile. "Zara."

  "Zara what?"

  "Just Zara. Do you have a car?"

  "Sure, sure. Wait—! Be careful going out that gate, would ya?" Benjamin grabbed her before she could boldly sally out onto the street.

  She stopped and turned to smile at him, all sunny. "After you."

  ~~~

  On Wednesday morning, Aletheia arrived at Pi's house at the same time as the postman. She motioned him to precede her through the narrow opening in the hedge that led to the door. It had been a few years since Aletheia had last visited Benjamin's friend, and it didn't look like the hedge had been pruned in the meantime. She and the postman had to jockey for room in the small space left open before the front door.

  Swinging his mail pack behind him, the grizzled postal worker eyed Aletheia with curiosity as she walked up to the door. She soon saw why. At least half-a-dozen rolled-up Los Angeles Times newspapers littered the concrete porch and nestled among the bushes.

  The postman shoved some envelopes into a slot that appeared overstuffed and watched as Aletheia optimistically lifted a fist and knocked.

  The older man waited, clearly interested, but nobody arrived to open the door. Pi's hydrangeas, planted to the left, regarded them both with wilted reproach.

  It didn't look like anybody was home, or had been for a while. All that trouble, calling in favors, getting people to cover her bases so she could take the long drive from Deer Creek to L.A., and nobody home.

  No, Aletheia thought, trying to ignore the pitying look from the postman. Somebody had to be home. Of course, there was no way to know if Benjamin had come to seek help from his paranoid computer geek friend Pi, but a sick feeling developed in her stomach, one that was starting to become unpleasantly familiar. She was almost positive Benjamin would turn to Pi. And here it looked like Pi's house had been abandoned in such a hurry there'd been no time to cancel the paper delivery service.

  Despite no sound from within, Aletheia knocked again. The old postman shook his head and walked away, his pack scraping the hedge. Aletheia's palms went clammy.

  She could handle a deluded relative on the roof, the week's coffee supply delayed past opening, and even a looming foreclosure notice on her house. But she was out of her depth here. Way out.

  Her brother had disappeared off the face of the earth. Strange, forceful men like Felix Roman were accusing him of sabotage, and maybe even treason. This was the sort of thing that happened on TV or in the movies, not to her. Panic crept up her throat.

  She needed help.

  With a shaky laugh, Aletheia ran a hand through her hair. Right. She was the one who helped others, not the reverse. Besides, who did she know who'd be capable of dealing with a situation like this?

  Who, indeed?

  She stared at the wood grain on Pi's front door as a sinking sensation settled over her. She did know one such person.

  A man who'd stood up to Jim Blodger. One who would have caught Aunt Rosa if she'd fall
en off the roof. Someone who had the strength and take-charge qualities necessary for the situation.

  Felix Roman.

  Aletheia tightened her jaw and knocked on Pi's door again. Felix was out of the question, a complete enemy. He was the reason she was desperately seeking her brother to begin with. Felix was the cause of the whole problem.

  But Aletheia knew that wasn't true even as she beat on Pi's door with increasing futility. Felix hadn't caused Benjamin's disappearance, he'd merely alerted her to it. Well, alerted her to it, and to the fact he'd made up his mind her brother was guilty of terrible things, things for which Felix intended to catch and punish him.

  She stopped pounding on the door and took a step back to catch her breath. If only someone would come answer the door. Then the idea of Felix would leave her alone.

  But nobody came, and as Aletheia stood there panting in frustration, she couldn't drive Felix Roman out of her head.

  Felix might understand what Pi's empty house meant. He might know what to do next. Most of all, his quiet strength would make her feel less helpless and alone.

  Aletheia bit hard on her lower lip. She was being ridiculous, utterly insane. She hated Felix, loathed him. How could he make her feel safe? She backed up until she hit the hedge, then crossed her arms over her chest.

  Oh, but he could. He had that wolf power thing going. And that relentless undercurrent of dependability. Aletheia bit her lip harder.

  What if she called him on the phone? He wouldn't know where she was just by getting a phone call from her. He wouldn't know any more than she chose to tell him, and she wasn't going to tell him anything important, nothing to point to where Benjamin might be.

  If she were very careful in what she said, she might be able to solicit some advice. It couldn't harm Benjamin if she simply asked for advice.

  Aletheia's teeth chewed into her lip. No, no, no. It was ridiculous to ask Felix for advice. He wanted the opposite of what she did. He wanted her brother ruined. Why would he help her? This was clearly a case where she had to be careful of her own judgment. She wanted help so badly, she was willing to look for it in the exact wrong place.

 

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