THE WILDE TOUCH: Book Two of The Touch Series

by Stoni Alexander

  What the hell kind of answer is that? A malfunctioning robot during a customer demo was unacceptable. Was Crockett the only one with alarms going off in his head? Deciding to change topics, he asked, “How are you adjusting to your new position?”

  Larry’s expression flattened. “No complaints.”

  “Have a good holiday?”

  “Kids drove me nuts. Wife dragged me to too many stores.” He shrugged. “Good otherwise.”

  “I’ll let you get back to work.” Without waiting for a response, Crockett headed back to his office to drill down into the details of Larry’s findings.

  After reading the analysis, he wanted to fling his laptop across the room. The QA team had cleared Moth of any physical anomalies. Moth’s software was a flawless match to that in Wilde’s propriety Software Development and Deployment System—SDDS. On paper, Moth had performed with the same degree of precision ever since he’d plucked her from his Maryland manufacturing facility two years ago.

  Crockett bit back a grunt. When it came to his customers, or in this case his prospective ones, he brought his A-game each and every time. But, based on the available information, everything did point to human error. Did I turn on Horse and Black, but forget Moth?

  He decided to refocus his efforts by completing his business plan for the year. Goal number one: Winning the FBI contract. Though a shred of doubt had slithered into his psyche, he wouldn’t alter his vision based on his mistake. Alleged mistake.

  A boisterous voice severed his concentration. He glanced up as his assistant, Ellen Tate, rushed into his office. “You have a vis—”

  The cyclone of energy whizzed past her. “Hey, babe!” Maverick threw out his arms.

  Chuckling, Crockett leapt out of his chair and rounded his desk. Good thing he welcomed the man barreling toward him because his afternoon had just gotten hijacked.

  Rather than shake Crockett’s outstretched hand, his longtime friend bear-hugged him. After loud back slaps, Crockett grabbed his shoulders. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Maverick’s wild blond hair and whiskered face, along with his wrinkled denim shirt and tattered jeans, had all the earmarks of a weeklong binge. Former Harvard housemate and business associate, Ashton Hott partied hard, chased women harder, and worked until he conked out at his desk. He didn’t get his nickname by accident. He’d earned it.

  Just because Crockett didn’t smell the stench of stale booze didn’t mean his friend hadn’t spent the last week jet setting around the globe welcoming in the New Year with a different gal in each country.

  Ellen cleared her throat. “Ashton’s pop-in will disrupt your schedule.” Loyal and efficient, she guarded him and his daily agenda like a Rottweiler.

  Maverick slung his hand over Ellen’s shoulder and hauled her close. “This is my go-to guy, Ellen. Why would he turn me away like a stray cat? The man loves me.” Maverick batted his eyelashes. On a laugh, Ellen smacked his chest.

  “I’ll clear the next hour, take notes at the R&D meeting, and bring you two some coffee,” Ellen said.

  “Got any food around here?” Maverick winked at her.

  Though she rolled her eyes, her smile never dropped. Maverick was annoying as hell, yet everyone loved him. Crockett’s dutiful assistant whizzed out.

  “Sit.” Crockett returned to his desk chair and leaned back. “Or are you not done entertaining the masses?”

  Maverick laughed. “I like to bring the heat.”

  When his friend’s smile fell away, Crockett suspected the unannounced visit was more than social. “Back from Iraq?”

  “I haven’t left yet.” Maverick’s eyes narrowed. “When did I tell you my location?”

  “I’ve known you long enough to read between the lines. I knew it was the Middle East. I drew my own conclusion.”

  Maverick’s bright eyes grew serious. After pushing off the back of the leather chair across from Crockett’s desk, he retrieved an oversized duffel from outside the doorway and slammed it onto the conference table. The loud metallic clatter of the bag’s contents had Crockett pushing out of his seat.

  Shouldering past Maverick, he unzipped the oblong bag. “What the fuck happened?” His $150,000 surveillance bird had been reduced to a pile of scrap metal.

  “Happened during beta test—”

  “Wait.” Crockett grabbed his cell phone and called Decker. “Maverick’s here with a dead bird.” He hung up as Ellen set the refreshments on the credenza. After peering into the duffel bag, she lifted her gaze to Crockett. “That’s not good.”

  “Yes, thank you, Ellen,” Crockett said.

  Decker flew in and gaped at the bag’s contents. “Oh, no, not Eagle. Which one is she?” He dropped his tablet on the leather chair.

  “Third generation,” Crockett replied. “Looks like version 3.2.6, but you’ll have to confirm if you can find her ID.”

  Ellen shut the door behind her.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while, Decker,” Maverick said. “I like the man-bun. Maybe I should grow one.”

  “We need details.” Crockett had no patience for small talk, not when he had what could be another drone fail on his hands. Before sitting, he removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

  “I’ll take notes.” Decker spun a chair at the conference table, grabbed his tablet, and sat.

  “I met my team this morning at oh-seven-hundred for a test flight,” Maverick said.

  “At your airpark on Maryland’s Eastern Shore?” Crockett asked.

  “Yes. Every device goes through rigorous testing there, then again at the final destination prior to deploying the aircraft.”

  “Was she the only one you tested?” Crockett asked.

  “No. We ran another bird—Falcon—and several Spy Flies through their paces. Those we’d purchased several months ago. We just got Eagle last week.” Maverick poured himself a mug of coffee and shoved half a cinnamon bun into his mouth.

  Decker looked pasty white. This equipment breakdown was something Wilde Innovations had never experienced before.

  After wolfing down the rest of the pastry, Maverick leaned against the credenza. “Two minutes into flight, she quit responding to pilot instruction and went rogue.”

  “Ah, hell.” Decker glanced at Crockett.

  “She buzzed us, then, about twenty-five feet in the air, she dropped,” Maverick said. “I’ve been working with your drones for what—over five years—and I’ve never witnessed anything like this.”

  With his jaw clenched, Crockett shoved out of his chair. Again he peered inside the duffle as if the answer could be plucked out.

  “We collected everything we could find and I hauled ass here,” Maverick continued. “This is some crazy shit. I swear she acted like she’d been hijacked.”

  “Smart move coming here.” As Crockett turned around, he fought the urge to pound his fist through a goddamn wall. “Footage?”

  “Of course.” Maverick sipped the hot java. “I’ll forward you the video along with the corresponding ground-to-air audit trail. Hard to believe without the footage. If I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t believe it myself.”

  “Was your ground pilot new?” Decker asked. “And what kind of device did you pair with Eagle?”

  “Penelope’s no stranger to Wilde products. She operated Eagle via one of several military-spec tablets dedicated strictly to our missions. And no, she wasn’t joking around. This was a pre-flight inspection for a top-secret mission overseas. I don’t screw around when it comes to my Birds or my Flies.”

  “This breakdown couldn’t be happening at a worse possible time.” Crockett’s phone rang. “I’ve got to take this.” He answered. “Danny, what’s going on?” he asked, trying to soften his gruff tone. He shifted his focus out the window at the office building across the street.

  “Congratulations! You made it past Round One.”

  Crockett sighed. “Great.”

  “You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”


  “You caught me in the middle of a meeting.”

  “The Director is pushing hard for this, so Round Two will be in seven to ten days. The CO will contact you with your timeslot.”

  Fuck. “Thanks for the good news.” Crockett hung up and shifted his attention to Decker. “We’re headed to Round Two in about a week. You’ll be joining me, in a suit.”

  Decker’s expression brightened. “Why don’t you look like we just got one giant step closer to the big win?”

  Maverick’s brow puckered. “What’s going on?”

  “Later,” Crockett replied.

  Decker snapped his tablet closed, then hopped up and over to the open bag. “Can I take her?” He zipped the bag.

  “She’s all yours,” Maverick replied. “I hate to lose a bird—”

  “I’ll make you whole,” Crockett said.

  “Thanks, brother.” Maverick shot him an appreciative smile. “When can I expect my new flyer?”

  “I’ll want to be there when you test her,” Crockett said.

  “Roger that.”

  “I’ll take you to Saul’s office to schedule delivery or pick up from our manufacturing facility.” Crockett extended his hand. “Thanks for coming here to tell me yourself.”

  “Try not to sweat it.” Maverick hugged him. “I know you. You’ll figure it out. That’s what you do. You’ve had my back for fifteen years. Nothing’s changed.”

  Crockett managed a dry smile. “One hell of a start to the new year.”

  Decker tried lifting the bag off the table, but it didn’t budge. His neck muscles strained and his face grew red. “Hey, babe, let me get that for you.” Maverick shot Crockett a playful glance as he shouldered the hundred-pound device.

  After Maverick dropped the bag in the lab, Crockett escorted him to Saul’s office. The three men concurred that the fastest way for Maverick to secure another bird was to pick it up from Wilde’s manufacturing facility in Jessup, Maryland.

  “I’ll call you when we schedule a test flight,” Maverick said. “Thanks for letting me barge in.”

  Crockett escorted Maverick to reception. “Not sure I had a choice, but in all seriousness, you had a legitimate reason.”

  “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

  “Interrupting my eight A.M. midterm to tell me you lost your virginity could have waited. I had to defend myself to that prof.”

  The two men laughed before Maverick heaved open the door to Wilde Innovations. “Those were the days. Study and get laid. God, I miss that.”

  “Did you hear about Colton?” Crockett walked to the elevator bank and jabbed the down button.

  “He invited me to his engagement party, but I was out of the country. I thought he was joking. I mean, hell, I thought he’d be the last of our motley crew to get hitched.”

  The elevator doors slid open to reveal a single occupant. An attractive blonde. Maverick slapped Crockett on the back. “Gotta fly.” And with that, he strode into the elevator and winked at Crockett as the doors closed.

  First, a crippled Fly. Now, a Bird goes rogue. What the hell is going on?

  As soon as Crockett opened the glass door, Ellen accosted him. “You have a visitor.”

  He glanced around the empty reception area. “I’ve been gone ten minutes. Now what?”

  “A reporter from Cable News Fifteen.”

  Other than his receptionist, the room was empty. “I don’t have time,” he said to Ellen.

  “She said to tell you she’s a Mitus.”

  Alex. His heart kicked up speed. “What does she want?”

  “Well, you.” His assistant smirked. “You won a geek contest—her words, not mine—and she wants to talk with you.”

  “No damned publicity.”

  “She’s waiting in your office,” Ellen called over her shoulder as she walked away.

  Alexandra had gone out of her way to avoid him during Colton’s party. That much was obvious. He’d assumed that after eleven years she would have been cordial. Not friendly. Friendly would have been asking too much. Cordial would have worked. But she’d been meat locker cold. So what, now she needs something and expects me to jump? Think again.

  He’d give her two minutes. He didn’t have time for an interview. Even if it was his Goth Girl.

  When he stepped into his office, she pivoted toward him. No longer a teen, the woman before him took his breath away. Regardless of how he felt about her, this visit wasn’t personal and she was not his. “Hello, Alexandra.”

  “Thank you for seeing me.”

  Had she worn her hair down on purpose knowing how much he loved that? She looked stunning, even in a simple brown dress. Damn her for barging in and bringing the heat with her. “Speaking to me now, are you?”

  For a split second, her eyes danced with that familiar spark. Then, she cleared her throat. “I’m here on business.”

  “Wilde Innovations doesn’t grant interviews. I’ll show you out.”

  Alexandra had been rooted behind his desk eyeing the framed photos lining his bookcase. She lifted one and glided toward him. Her intoxicating wild flower scent brought back a rush of memories. The way she’d press her body into his before she’d kiss him breathless or the passion in her touch when they’d make love. His heart thundered in his chest. One lingering glance at her mouth and his cock twitched. Perfect lips. Truth was, most everything about her was pretty fucking amazing. Damn, I’ve missed her.

  “I thought I knew you once,” she murmured.

  He snapped out of his thoughts. “No small talk?”

  “We don’t do small talk.” She turned the photo toward him. “I learned about your sister—your sister—from my research on the tech winner of some lame tech contest.”

  He puffed his chest. “I didn’t win a lame contest.”

  “Oh, I see.” Her eyebrow arched in defiance. “So, now it’s an important one?” She stood dangerously close. “You knew every little thing about me, but I have to read the following quote in an article about you. ‘My life’s work is committed to finding my sister, Sophia, abducted when she was fourteen.’”

  She narrowed her eyes, steeled her spine. But when she gazed into his eyes, he glimpsed her sadness.

  “Let’s sit,” he said.

  Still clutching the picture frame, she sashayed past him and eased onto his sofa. Her feminine scent wafted in his direction. When she crossed her killer legs, he had to look. If this were some kind of power game, that simple move gave her the clear advantage.

  “How have you been?” He joined her on the sofa.

  She set the picture on her lap, then tapped the glass with her fingernail. “I’ll answer your questions when you answer mine. Why didn’t you tell me you have a sister who’d been abducted?”

  He appreciated that she spoke of Sophia in the present tense, like she was still alive, somewhere on this giant globe. But any comfort he felt from Alexandra’s thoughtful reference fell away as he recalled the most gut-wrenching period of his life. “The short answer is Kimberly.”

  Without displaying the slightest reaction, she said, “I’d like to hear the long answer, please.”

  His chest tightened. The last time she’d said, ‘”please” she’d asked him to make love to her, one last time. As he peered into her soulful brown eyes, he knew he would make love to her again, if she asked.

  “You were sixteen when Sophia was abducted,” he said. “You were a quiet teenager who hid behind your Goth.”

  “Go on.”

  “Your mom was concerned that if you learned what had happened to Sophia you’d become more withdrawn or afraid to leave the house.”

  Alexandra placed a soft hand on his shoulder and the warmth from her fingers seeped through his dress shirt. “I’m so sorry this happened to your sister and to your family. I wish I’d known.”

  Even after all the years, the familiar way her long fingers caressed and kneaded his muscles sent blood pumping through him. He studied her face. The tiny uptu
rn of her nose. The depth of compassion in her eyes. It would be effortless to pull her into an embrace.

  With a tender pat, she let go. “It’s time for me to hear the entire story.”

  “Are you here as Alexandra Mitus or Alexandra Reed, the journalist?”

  Her breath came out in a harrumph. “Does that matter?”

  “When it comes to my sister, I don’t give a damn about ratings or market share or net profit. And I don’t give a fuck about some contest.”

  On a huff, she crossed her arms. “You would if it helped bring her home, Crockett.”

  Lifting the photo from her lap, he stared at his then two-year-old sister. His gangly eight-year-old self stared back. He’d just finished building the perfect Hot Wheels track and had lined up his cars—in an exact order—for the big race. Sophia had plunked down in the middle of his track, demolishing his set-up, and grabbed two cars. Somehow, his mom had captured the annoyance on his face and the gigantic smile beaming from hers. Sophia had idolized him. Bugged the hell out of him, actually. Now he would do anything, give anything, to find her and bring her home.

  He didn’t talk about the abduction because he wanted to avoid the anger that burned in his gut. That kind of fury would land a guy in prison if he ever found the son of a bitch who took his sister. Peering into Alexandra’s eyes soothed his anger, but ignited a different kind of flame.

  As she waited, determination, not pity, shone from her eyes and that, above all else, spurred him forward.

  “Sophia was abducted on her way home from school, freshman year of high school. I was at college and didn’t find out until the next day. My parents were so frantic my mom had to be hospitalized for a short time. When my dad called, I was in class, so he told Colton. Broke down with Colton is more like it.”

  Feeling like his lungs were being crushed, Crockett returned the picture to the shelf. With his back to Alexandra, he said, “Colton was the one who told me.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Leaning his rump against his desk, he faced her. “I wanted to drop out of Harvard to help my parents. They were a mess. But they insisted I focus on my studies. I couldn’t have gotten through that ordeal without your brother, plus a few other close friends.” He crossed his arms over his chest.