THE WILDE TOUCH: Book Two of The Touch Series

by Stoni Alexander

  She tightened around his shaft, hissed out his name, and shuddered through her orgasm.

  Still panting, he slowed his thrusting as he floated back to earth. His brain had shorted. For those several glorious seconds, she’d quieted his demons. He wrapped his arms around her and dotted a tender trail of kisses from one shoulder blade to her other. “I can’t live without you.”

  She’d been moving gently on his shaft, but his words had stilled her. Had he said the wrong thing? Was the hard fucking still supposed to be void of emotion?

  Moving slowly, he withdrew. Without hesitation, she turned to face him. Fiery brown eyes drilled into his. Then, she kissed him. He stroked her back while she kissed him breathless all over again. After removing her mask, she untied his, then cradled his face in her hands. “I’m afraid if I tell you how I feel, you’ll leave me again.”

  He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. “I’ve waited a long time for this. For you. For us. Telling me you loved me didn’t end things back then. It won’t now, either.”

  Her sweet smile touched his heart. But as he gazed into her eyes, she trembled. Running his hands down her arms and then her sides, she felt warm to his touch. She’s not cold. She’s terrified.

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “That boy from Uvalde, Texas fell in love with you a long time ago. And he never fell out.”

  They climbed into bed and snuggled close. For a long moment, she stared into his eyes. “I love you, Crockett Wilde,” she murmured. “Ever since I was fourteen, my heart, my soul have been yours.”

  And that’s when her tears flowed.

  “Please tell me those are happy tears,” he murmured and kissed her forehead.

  “Don’t leave me again.”

  He framed her face in his hands and kissed her. “Never again. You. Are. Mine. And I am yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

  One tender kiss erupted into an explosion of passion. Then, she unleashed a decade of bottled up emotion and he devoured everything she gave him. Crockett Wilde had finally gotten his Goth Girl.

  In the aftermath, he wrapped her in his arms, stroked her back, kissed her. She draped her leg over his and ran her fingers over his chest. Peace settled over them.

  “We’ve got a full plate,” she said, breaking the long silence.

  “We’ll get through everything together,” he murmured.

  “It’s a lot.”

  “Nothing we can’t handle.”

  “The club is still closed.” She sat up, snatched her phone from the night table, and tapped the screen.

  “You’re so worried about Sage,” he said stroking her thigh.

  “I can’t help it. She’s been on my mind.”

  “Honey, she’s a grown woman. She can take care of herself.” He propped his pillows and leaned against them.

  “Yes!” she said. “The club is having a grand reopening this Friday. Black tie masquerade party. Reservations required.”

  Her fingers flew across the phone screen. “Reservations for two under Electra…in case you forget the name of your date.” Her saucy grin fell away “I hope Decker finds time to hunt for rejuvenation this week.”

  “If he can, he will.”

  “Between that and your work, I feel like all we’re doing is chasing ghosts.”

  “I know, babe. Chasing ghosts isn’t gonna get us anywhere.” He broke eye contact. Chasing ghosts…ghosts…ghost code! “Alex, that’s it.”

  30

  Ghost Code

  Though exhausted, Crockett knew he had to return to work, even if it was four o’clock in the damn morning.

  Alexandra tossed off the blanket and rose. “C’mon, you can do it.” She extended her hand. “A shower will wake you up.”

  With entwined fingers, he followed her into his bathroom. “You gotta join me.”

  She turned on the faucet. “I’d love to, but you don’t have time to fool around.”

  “Like hell I don’t.” As the jets pummeled his aching back, he pulled her into his arms and smiled through the kiss.

  On his way out, she handed him a plastic grocery bag. “Breakfast sandwiches for you and Decker. Good luck.”

  “Thank you for taking care of me.” He kissed her. “I’ll text you later. Bolt yourself in.” He stepped into the hallway. She leaned out, kissed him and shut the door. He waited for her to flip the lock before striding toward the elevator.

  After pulling out of the parking garage, he punched Decker’s number on his phone.

  “Hey,” Decker rasped.

  “You still in the office?”

  “Fell asleep in the Tank.”

  “On my way back. I think I’ve got it.” Crockett hung up and hit the gas.

  Ten minutes later, he swiped his badge, entered his suite, and flipped on lights before powering down the deserted hallway.

  When he opened the door to the Tank, Decker shifted his zombie-like gaze to Crockett. “Ugh.”

  “You look like hell.” Crockett shut the door.

  “You’re not so pretty yourself.”

  After dropping into the chair, he slid two sandwiches over to Decker. “From Alexandra.”

  He lifted the egg, cheese and Canadian bacon sandwich. “Nice.” They wolfed down their food in silence. When finished, Decker appeared more awake. “What did you dream up?”

  “No dream, my friend. Two words. Ghost code.”

  “Hmm.” Decker chewed on his lower lip.

  “We’ve ruled out the hardware. We checked and re-checked existing code. What we couldn’t check was code we couldn’t see.”

  “It would explain why the code in the devices mirrors what’s in SDDS.” Sitting tall, Decker tapped away on the keyboard.

  Wilde Innovations utilized a proprietary Software Development and Deployment System—SDDS—that tracked the deployment of software to all surveillance devices.

  Over the next hour, they re-examined the code and memory in each of the devices that had failures. While they couldn’t find any remnant of ghost code, they did discover that the memory allocation significantly exceeded what was normally required.

  “Holy hell,” Decker said. “I think you figured it out.”

  “Credit goes to Alexandra. She got me thinking.”

  “The memory differential is almost a hundred meg. All I can see in the excess space is a bunch of zeros.”

  Energy rocketed through Crockett as he stared at the screen. “How can we see what isn’t there?”

  “I’m not sure we can,” Decker said. “But this is consistent with what a programmer would see after ghost code erases itself.”

  Crockett reviewed the logs to determine the time frames when SDDS pushed software to each of the devices. “None of the dates are recent.”

  “Someone either connected to the devices directly or accessed them through the LAN.” Decker rolled his chair back and crossed his ankle over his thigh. “It’s too bad there’s no way to track unauthorized connections.”

  “There might be,” Crockett said. “When the multi-hub was installed, I instructed the network engineers to configure it to keep track of all connections, regardless of source.”

  Decker pulled the multi-hub log and reviewed it, line by line. “I’m going to either lose my sight or my mind.”

  “Look, there’s a pattern.” Crockett pointed. “Someone connected to each of the Spy Flies in question at two in the morning the night before the FBI demo.” He swiveled to Decker. “Let’s check Maverick’s bird.”

  That, too, had been accessed the night before the surveillance craft had been shipped out.

  “No way,” Decker said. “This is the same IP address.”

  Crockett logged in and queried Wilde’s IP database. “Gotcha!” Crockett said. “It’s Larry Berry’s computer.”

  “I want to jump up and down,” Decker said. “But I have no energy.”

  Knock, knock.

  Without waiting for a response, the door opened. “Oh, thank goodness.”
Ellen put a calming hand on her chest. “All the lights are on. I wasn’t sure what I’d find.”

  “We live here,” Decker said.

  “Close the door,” Crockett ordered.

  Ellen’s cheeks flamed and she started to leave.

  Crockett chuckled. “No, Ellen, with you in the room.”

  “Oh.” She shut the door and joined them at the table.

  “We’ve found the breach,” Crockett said. “I’m calling my cousin, Danny Strong. With any luck, he’ll be here this morning. Until then, it’s business as usual.”

  Concern laced Ellen’s eyes. “Yes, sir.” She glanced from one man to the other. “I’m glad you found it. I’ve been on pins and needles. Who?”

  “Larry. I think Ruth Lizzard is involved. Text me when he arrives.”

  “He’s here. We rode up together. Did you eat anything?”

  “A few hours ago,” Decker replied.

  Ellen rose. “I’ll make a Mimi’s run.”

  “You’re a saint,” Decker said before she closed the door behind her.

  Crockett dialed and with phone pressed to his ear, waited.

  “Hey, Crockett,” Danny said. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve got a work situation and need your professional opinion.”

  “Go.”

  “I have reason to believe one of my employees is sabotaging my products, including the ones I used during the FBI demo.”

  “Crockett, you gotta let this one go, buddy.”

  “Hell, no. Not when I have a mountain of evidence.”

  “Look, I can pass your message to the appropriate team.”

  Crockett’s hand rolled into a fist. “Do not dismiss me.”

  “I know you’re upset, but—”

  “Dammit, Danny. We’ve pulled an all-nighter searching the code. It’s all here, or in this case, it’s not. Bring me a forensic software analyst who will fucking hear me out.”

  “Crockett, agents aren’t just sitting around waiting for a call. We’ve got full workloads.”

  Gritting his teeth, Crockett said nothing. Hell can freeze over before I utter one fucking word.

  Danny broke the frosty silence. “I’ll grab someone from the white collar crime division.”

  “When can I expect you?”

  “By COB.”

  “Not good enough. We’ve got thousands of products in the market that cannot fail. I’ve no idea what additional surveillance devices my employee has tampered with.”

  “You’re like a fucking pit bull, you know that? You better have something concrete. I’ll be by around noon.”

  “Thank you.” He hung up before Danny could change his mind. I have got to get to the dojo or I’m gonna punch a fucking wall.

  “Nice job.” Decker stood and stretched. “My ass is killing me. I’m working standing up today.”

  Ellen dropped off a cardboard tray of coffees and breakfast sandwiches. “Enjoy. I’ll be at my desk if you need anything.” She left.

  “Regardless of how this goes down, I couldn’t have done it without you,” Crockett said.

  Decker smiled. “You betcha.”

  Crockett collected his things and opened the door. “You staying in here?”

  “Guarding the evidence.”

  “Door open or closed?”

  “Open. The room is starting to have that asylum feel to it.”

  Crockett headed toward his office. After dropping his items, he sent Alexandra a text. “Danny swinging by later. How are you doing?”

  No dots appeared on his screen, so he took off for his HR department. His Director, Daphne Johnson, was on the phone, but she waved him in. He closed the door and eased into the guest chair.

  “Good morning,” she said after hanging up.

  “I’m here to discuss Decker Daughtry.”

  “What do you need to know?”

  After discussing Decker’s salary, bonus payout and opportunity for career growth, Crockett nominated him for the Wilde Employee of the Quarter Award.

  “And I want to give him a salary bump, but no change in title.”

  Daphne glanced at him over her reading glasses. “You’re being mighty generous today. You feel like spreading that Wilde wealth around?”

  Chuckling, he said, “If you worked around-the-clock and slept here, I would certainly consider it.”

  After finishing up with HR, he returned to his office where he spent the remainder of the morning doing little more than pacing. Just after twelve-thirty, Ellen knocked on his doorframe. “Danny Strong.”

  Danny stepped in and Ellen asked, “Can I get either of you a beverage?”

  “No, thanks, Ellen,” Crockett said. “Danny, something to drink?”

  He shifted from one foot to the next. “I’m good, thanks.”

  Ellen shut the door. Crockett rounded his desk and hugged his cousin. “Thanks for coming. Where’s your white collar crime expert?”

  “He asked me to vet your information. If there’s anything solid, he’ll swing by later.”

  On a huff, Crockett dragged his fingers over his unshaven face. “Let’s get started.”

  The two men strode down the hall, through the lab, and into the Tank.

  “Please record our conversation,” Crockett said to Decker.

  Decker fiddled with his phone. “Recording.”

  “I’d like to go on record that Crockett Wilde and Decker Daughtry have solid evidence that one of my employees, Lawrence Berry, has tampered with company products. Furthermore, we believe he’s colluding with former employee, Ruth Lizzard, who’s currently Director of Software Development at No Man’s Land. A competitor. We have reason to believe Mr. Berry has stolen surveillance devices that he provided to Ms. Lizzard for her to use during FBI product demos. And we also have reason to believe he’s stolen two additional surveillance craft for Ms. Lizzard.”

  “And we’re back to the FBI product demo,” Danny said.

  “Before you jump to any conclusions, listen to Crockett,” Decker said. “The bags under my eyes are from getting zero sleep. We have proof.”

  Danny raised his hands. “Go ahead.”

  As Crockett and Decker began recounting everything in detail, Danny took notes on his tablet.

  Over an hour later, Danny pushed back from the conference table and sighed. “You’ve certainly provided a thorough account. I need a brief break.”

  Decker stopped recording. “I’ll grab a coffee. Any takers?”

  “A double shot of espresso.” Danny pulled out his wallet. “And something sweet.”

  “I’ve got it,” Decker said.

  “No,” Crockett replied. “Take the money and pay for his items separately. Get the receipt. Danny’s here on official business.”

  “Got it.” Decker took the ten from Danny and left.

  “Looks like you’ve got a solid case,” Danny said. “I’ll tell Agent Miles to get his ass down here.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Crockett replied.

  The end of the workday brought a flurry of activity. Sitting around the conference room table in his office, Crockett recounted the events and presented their findings in a methodical manner. Special Agent Rupert Miles listened, asked poignant questions, and took copious notes.

  “Based on your evidence this is an open and shut case…on paper.” Agent Miles stroked his close-cropped beard. “But people aren’t neat like that. Their agendas are often convoluted and emotionally driven. Before I speak with Mr. Berry and possibly make an arrest, I’d like you to talk to him first.”

  “I’ll use a Spy Fly.” Crockett opened his safe and removed a tiny robot.

  “I’ll need to confiscate his equipment,” said Miles.

  “His computer is property of Wilde Innovations,” Crockett said. “But he uses his personal cell phone.”

  “I’ll get a warrant for you, Rupert,” Danny said.

  Crockett placed the creature on his head. “Fire her up, Decker.”

  Decker glanced over
. “Is that Black?”

  “Excuse me?” Agent Miles’s eyes narrowed. “Should I take offense to that comment?”

  “I hope not.” Crockett lifted out the small robotic insect. “This surveillance device is modeled after the Black Fly. We call her Black.”

  “My mistake. I’ve heard some doozies over the years.” Rupert pushed out of his chair and leaned against the windowsill. “You get Mr. Berry to confess, we’ll arrest him.”

  Crockett tucked the tiny craft into his hair. “Sounds like a solid plan. Ruth Lizzard has an unknown number of my Spy Flies. At sixty-five thousand dollars apiece, I need those back.”

  “I’ll note that, but we’ll need to maintain possession of all equipment as part of the case,” the agent explained. “We don’t operate a carryout business.”

  The men laughed. “I reckon you don’t,” Crockett said.

  “All set?” Agent Miles asked.

  Crockett flipped his gaze to Decker. “Confirm.”

  “Video and audio confirmed. Good luck.” Decker spun his tablet so both agents had a clean line-of-sight.

  Crockett shut the door behind him. Adrenaline had carried him through the past twenty-four hours. But now, his heart beat a slow and steady rhythm as he made his way toward Larry’s office. This had better work.

  Before tapping on the open office door, he paused. Like any other day, Larry sat working at his desk. Crockett would never have guessed this long-term employee would be the triggerman in a scheme to undermine his business. What a mind fuck.

  “Hey, Larry, got a minute?”

  Larry jumped. “Sure, c’mon in.”

  Crockett closed the door and remained standing so Larry wouldn’t spot Black. More importantly, it put him in a power position. This conversation mattered, so rather than rushing into anything, he suffered through a few minutes of small talk. When Crockett felt like he’d checked that box, he lost the pleasant smile and jovial tone.

  “Larry, let’s get serious for a moment.”

  “Okay.” Larry swallowed.

  “How many Spy Flies does Ruth Lizzard have?”

  He steeled his spine. “What? How would I know? None, right?” he asked, his face flushing.

  “Things might be easier for you if you’d cooperate.”