Worst of all, I never got to say goodbye.
Alison ran and ran and ran, without looking back. Block after block until she finally stopped and hazarded a look behind her. The bad guy was gone, for now giving her time to dwell on her next issue.
I’ve got nothing. No money. No ID. No phone.
She walked on for several more blocks, searching for a place to hide and think. At last, she came across an abandoned warehouse, its rusty door hanging from the hinges. She slipped inside and found a somewhat dry and clean place to crouch in the shadows. Every sound echoed off the corrugated steel walls, reminding her the danger was far from over. If she’d discovered this place, chances were good that others had too.
Others whose motives might not prove as honorable as hers.
The last thing she needed was to get mugged, especially since she didn’t have anything. She pulled her hoodie tighter around herself and leaned back against the cool metal wall, the superficial wounds on her back still seeping and aching. Without means, she wouldn’t get far and honestly, she really didn’t want to leave Vegas.
Before, it had always just been her, alone against the world.
Now, she had Faye and Owen and her apartment and Peaches and…
No. This time, I stay.
This time I’ll make a stand against Copernatech and all the big corporate bullies of the world, exposing them for what they are: greedy cowards.
Pulling her knees into her chest, Alison rested her chin atop them and focused on what she still had. Her mind. Math was what she did best, so math is what she’d use to get her out of this mess.
The police would require proof that the pharmaceutical giant was behind the attack. They’d need to capture the thug who’d shot at her and any accomplices he might have. In order to make that happen, however, probability said she’d need something to draw them out.
I’ll use myself as bait.
They were currently watching Owen’s apartment building, so she needed to get them away from there to keep everyone safe, lure them to someplace where she’d have the upper hand, somewhere she’d have the advantage.
The Boneyard.
Her fear dissipated, replaced now by resolve. The boneyard was the place where old Vegas signs were retired. Giant hulks of rusted metal and broken neon crowded the lot. She’d scoped the place out shortly after arriving in Vegas, thinking it would be a perfect spot for an ambush, if the need every arose.
Alison pushed to her feet and dusted off her hands on the thighs of her jeans.
Goal and plan in place, she headed for the warehouse door.
Yep. The time’s here.
Time for Alison James to take her hard-earned life back.
* * *
Woof. Woof. Woof.
Owen rolled over and slung his arm across his eyes. The first streaks of sun were piercing through the bedroom curtains and he felt sore and completely satisfied for the first time in ages. He smiled despite the early hour and fumbled his hand over to the mattress beside him.
Empty.
Frowning, he lifted his arm and peered sideways at the vacant spot where Alison should’ve been. What the hell? He didn’t even remember her getting up.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Groaning, he rolled out of bed and tugged on his jeans before padding to the bedroom door. He yanked it open, expecting Peaches to charge in, but nothing.
Weird. Owen walked down the hall, scowling as he approached the front door and the desperate canine whines grew louder. The apartment didn’t have a doggy door, so how in the hell had Peaches gotten out?
He opened the door and the dog scrambled inside, slipping and sliding on the hardwood floor, trembling all over. Her leash trailed behind her in ominous warning. Alison must’ve taken her for a walk, but when he peered out into the hallway, there was no sign of his new girlfriend. He shut the door and smiled despite the mystery.
Alison’s my girlfriend.
Peaches practically pawed a whole through his leg, so Owen crouched and did his best to calm her. “What’s wrong, girl? Huh? Where’s Alison?”
At the mention of her name, Peaches cried and Owen’s heart tripped.
The stories she’d told him about her corrupt former employer and their shady tactics to the news of their failure silently resurfaced, cooling his blood to ice in his veins.
Have they finally found her? Have they taken her? Hurt her? Worse?
She'd said her contact had indicated it was all-clear. Had something changed? He'd never asked her just exactly how she communicated with her contact ... the envelope under the bench!
Things had heated up so fast between them the night before he'd never mentioned the envelope to Alison, but that must have been their method of communication. Alison thought it was all clear except she'd never gotten that last message because Blake's people had intercepted it. Had that message contained the code phrase that would have alerted Alison that Copernatech was onto her. Now she was in danger and it was his fault!
Straightening, he stalked into the kitchen and grabbed his cell phone from the charger. If anyone so much as damaged one hair on Alison’s head, he’d fucking murder them. Quickly, he thumbed the speed dial button for Blake and left a curt message then did the same on Liv’s number. If someone had abducted Alison, the Rockfords were his best shot for getting her back.
While he waited for them to arrive, he took a quick shower and put on fresh jeans and a T-shirt then fixed a still nervous Peaches some breakfast before getting himself a much-needed cup of joe. Twenty minutes later, he answered a pounding on his door to find his cousins on the other side.
“I’ll need to know everything, from the beginning.” Blake charged in and took a seat on the sofa, letting Henry jump from his shoulder to the back cushions. “The whole truth.”
“All I know is what she told me last night.” Owen scrubbed a hand through his still damp hair and took a seat in an armchair across from Blake. “But I believe her.”
“Good.” Blake pulled out a tablet computer from inside his jacket. “Start with the basics.”
“Her real name is Heather Connors. She’s twenty-eight and holds a Master’s Degree in mathematics. She worked for a pharmaceutical company named Copernatech, on a team working with a new cancer vaccine. She’d been hired to analyze the data from the clinical trials and determine results of success or failure as part of their FDA approval process. But she said they didn’t like her interpretation of the data—the vaccine did more harm than good—and when she went to the execs about the potentially deadly side effects, they brushed her aside. At that point, she turned whistleblower and went to a reporter with the information. The reporter later turned up dead, before the story could break. Then she said the company broke into her home stole all of her research and notes on the project. That’s when Alison went underground and she’s been on the run ever since.”
“All right.” Blake frowned at his tablet screen, his thumbs flying across the screen as he typed in Owen’s information. “I’m sending this to the IT team. If this checks out, we’ll get to the bottom of everything. I promise.”
“Thanks, man.” He rubbed his eyes and bumped his shoulder against Liv, who’d taken a seat on the arm of his chair. “I really appreciate you both coming over here.”
“No problem.” Liv ruffled his hair. “That’s what family’s for.”
“Right.” He took his empty mug to the kitchen then paced the small living room. “Shit. I just feel like I need to do something, be out there looking for her, you know?”
“You’re doing the best thing you can,” Liv said. “Blake will handle it. Don’t worry.”
“Easy for you to say.” He walked past the side table near the front door and noticed Alison’s phone still lying there. He picked it up and stared at the screen, now covered with missed call alerts from Faye. “Damn.”
He hit redial.
Faye answered on the second ring. “Where the hell are you, Al? I’ve been trying to reach you al
l night. People came to the casino asking about you and now I’m at your apartment and your bag’s still here, so you haven’t left town and—”
“Faye? It’s Owen.”
“Owen?” Her shock was evident in her tone. “Why do you have Alison’s phone? What’s going on?”
“Alison’s disappeared. She left her phone at my place when she took off.”
“But she doesn’t go anywhere without her phone.”
“I know.” He took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall. “Listen, there are things about her you probably don’t know.”
“I know she’s my best friend and I’m worried.” A hint of anger joined the concern in her voice. “What more do I need to know?”
“That she’s a whistleblower, against some very powerful, very dangerous people. And she’s running for her life.”
Silence followed—long enough that Owen checked the phone to make sure they were still connected. “Faye? Are you still there?”
“I’m here.” Her words emerged quieter this time. “Jesus. I knew she was a math geek who can’t hold her liquor and that she snorts when she laughs, but I never suspected anything like this. I thought she was hiding from an abusive boyfriend or something.”
“The ‘or something’ part is right.”
“What are we going to do, Owen? We have to help her. She’s loyal to the bone and she’s stuck her neck out for me more times than I can count. I won’t let her face this alone.”
“Neither will I.” He pushed away from the wall, a new idea forming. “You said you’re at her apartment?”
“Yeah.”
“Great. Give me the directions and stay put. I’m coming over.”
He jotted down the address then ended the call. Looking up, he found two nosy cousins staring back at him. “I’ve got to go out. Liv can you watch Peaches until I get back?”
“Sure.”
“Need backup?” Blake watched him with a narrowed gaze.
“Nah, I got it.” Owen shoved his feet into a pair of shoes and grabbed his keys off the side table. “Just wish me luck.”
Fifteen minutes later, he swerved his sedan up to the curb in front of a sedate looking beige ranch house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. Not exactly where he’d expect to find a math genius with a dark past, but then again, that was probably Alison’s plan.
That’s my smart girl.
As he climbed out of the car and walked toward the basement entrance where Faye waited, he couldn’t help but smile. Yep. Alison was his girl now. Maybe more, if she’d accept him into her life like he wanted to accept her into his.
And if they all survived this shitfest of a situation.
“Hey.” He waited while Faye unlocked the apartment door then walked inside. “You said people were asking for her at the Lucky Ace?”
“Yeah.” Faye turned to close the door behind them only to stop as a little old lady stood on the stoop with a foil-wrapped dish in her hands. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“I’m Ms. Baker, Alison’s landlord.” The woman looked between Owen and Faye, her expression wary. “Who are you two?”
“My name’s Owen Rockford, ma’am.” He plastered on his most polite smile and stepped forward to take the dish from the woman’s hands. “And this is Alison’s friend, Faye. We stopped by to speak with her, but she doesn’t seem to be home. Any ideas where she might be?”
“No. She keeps to herself most of the time.” Ms. Baker shook her head disapprovingly. “Such a sweet, pretty girl. I’ve told her over and over she needs to socialize more, find herself a good husband and settle down.” She eyed Owen up and down. “Are you single, Mr. Rockford?”
“I’m seeing someone. Alison, in fact.” He ignored the blatantly curious look on Faye’s face and ushered the older woman back out the door. “Thanks so much for stopping by.”
“Tell Alison to heat the chicken and dumplings I brought at three hundred seventy-five degrees for forty-five minutes and they’ll perk right up.”
“Will do.” Owen gave the landlady an appreciative smile. “So nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“And you, Mr. Rockford. That Alison’s a lucky girl to find a nice boy like you.”
“Thank you, ma’am. But I’m the lucky one.”
He waited until Ms. Baker disappeared back into her apartment upstairs then closed the door and shoved the dish of leftovers in the fridge before turning to Faye once more. “Okay, back to the people at the casino. Can you describe them?”
“There were two. A tough looking guy then later it was a dark-haired woman.”
“Notice anything remarkable or unusual about them?”
“You mean other than the fact they were looking for my best friend who’s the most private, isolated person in the world? No.”
“Great.” His tone suggested the exact opposite. “All right. Well, help me look around the place. Maybe we can find a clue about where she is or where she was planning to go after she left Vegas.”
A thorough search of the apartment, however, turned up nothing.
Frustrated, Owen headed back out into the living room. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his jeans pocket to see Blake’s face onscreen. Answering, he paced to burn off some excess energy. “Please tell me you found something.”
“Her story checks out. Heather Connors worked for Copernatech until just under a year ago. Alison’s picture from the casino footage matches the ID they had on file for her.”
“Okay, good. What else?”
Blake efficient tone turned less chipper. “One of my techs dug a little further into the situation and found one of the top executives from Copernatech landed at McCarran Airport three days ago.”
“They’re in Vegas? Shit.” His heart nosedived to somewhere near his toes. Alison was most definitely in danger. “Can you track the bastard?”
“Already got people on it.”
Owen ended the call and joined Faye in the kitchen. “That was Blake. He did some checking on Alison’s background. Her story about the pharmaceutical company checks out.”
“Like you didn’t think it would?” Faye crossed her arms and gave him a full-on resting bitchface look. “Some boyfriend you are.”
Before he could answer, his phone buzzed again, this time with a text.
The Neon Museum Boneyard. Midnight. Bring police.
If I miscalculated… Just know, I wanted to stay.
A
“Fuck.” He squinted at the phone until the screen went black. The message could have come from Alison, or it could be a trick. Either way it was the only lead they had on her whereabouts.
“What?” Faye stepped in beside him and tapped the screen to look at the message. “Oh, my God. You have to help her.”
“What if it’s not from Alison.”
“What if it is?”
Owen took the phone back and pinged the message, his doubts only growing stronger when he discovered the message had originated from a less than savory part of town. The location was pretty far from his apartment and he couldn’t imagine Alison going someplace so dangerous alone, unless taken there against her will—or desperate.
Dammit. Faye was right. He couldn’t not show up. It might be his only chance to save the woman who’d suddenly become the most important person in his life. He shoved the device back in his pocket and headed for the door. “I need to go.”
“Wait” Faye dogged his footsteps. “I’m coming with you.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Don’t you have more important things to worry about than my schedule?”
Can’t argue with that one.
“Fine. Whatever.” Owen walked to his car while Faye locked up the apartment then joined him. “I can’t guarantee your safety though.”
“I can take care of myself, mister.” She slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. “Don’t worry about me. Where are we headed?”
He rattled off the address of the warehouse where Alison’s te
xt had originated from. Odds were slim she’d still be there, but he had to check. “Sounds like they arrived three days ago with the sole intent of finding Alison.”
“Uh-oh.”
Less than five minutes later, they squealed to a stop outside an abandoned dump of a building. Owen and Faye climbed out and joined Blake, who was already there. He turned to them as they approached. “Sorry. I’ve got a team still searching the area, but there’s no sign of the exec or Alison. We did find a homeless guy passed out inside, but he couldn’t tell us anything. Let me see her message.”
Cursing, Owen pulled out his phone and showed Blake the text. Come hell or high water, he’d be at the Boneyard tonight. “I’m going.”
“Could be a trap.”
“Don’t care. One way or another, I’m getting Alison back. Tonight.”
Sixteen
Eleven forty-five.
Alison took a deep breath and stared at the clock on the wall at the twenty-four-hour coffee house in which she’d taken refuge. The crowds made her feel safer and the owners hadn’t kicked her out, even though she’d been nursing the same cup of coffee for hours. She’d managed to scrounge enough money together by pawning her watch to buy the cheap burner phone she’d used to text Owen earlier, snag a fresh top and hoodie at a second-hand store to replace her bloodstained ones, then score a muffin and mug of joe here to keep her going.
With luck, soon, I’ll be free.
Free of the past, free to pursue the future she wanted. Free to resume a normal life and have a normal relationship with Owen without looking over her shoulder constantly to make sure Copernatech hadn’t finally caught up with her.
She sipped the last of her coffee before pushing to her feet and heading out into the open streets of Vegas again. Her best bet for picking up the Copernatech thug again was to return to Owen’s apartment building, so she headed the few blocks over. If her plan had any hopes for success, she needed the gunman to follow her.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long. After a mere ten minutes of pacing, the man approached her from around the corner again, his build and silhouette the same as the earlier shooter.
Calculating Desires (The Rockford Security Series Book 4) Page 14