Seconds to Live
Page 8
He tipped his head, and his slicked-back brown hair didn’t move. “I already cleared the place, and so has the RED team hunkered downstairs.”
“I appreciate your evaluation of the house, but I’m still going to follow through, Agent . . .”
“Snow. Agent Snow.”
She nodded and moved to step around him toward Deputy Jim Coates, who was sitting on a sofa across the room. Snow didn’t make it easy but stood his ground. Okay, fine. He had an attitude about her checking his work. If their roles were reversed, she wouldn’t like it either. “This isn’t personal, Agent Snow. Just doing my job.”
Jim gave her a self-assured nod, and her unease at having such a green agent at the door disappeared. She would have an experienced deputy on duty at all times. Jim would be here until Roger arrived for the graveyard shift.
She walked into the family room, which had a large fireplace and vaulted ceiling. She was glad to see blackout shades in every window, and they were closed tight. She strode down the hallway and quickly cleared the empty bedrooms, ending with the one assigned to the twins.
She knocked on the door. “Dianne, it’s Taylor. We’re here.”
Dianne opened the door and gave Taylor a quick once-over, as if expecting her to be injured.
“Dustee’s still in the car. Once I finish my sweep of the house, she can come in.” Taylor smiled to ease her protectee’s concern and searched the room.
“I always appreciate how detailed you are.” Dianne sighed a long breath of relief. “Makes me feel safer.”
And lets me sleep at night.
Dianne’s stomach growled.
“Right, dinner.” Taylor nodded. “We can get something started after Dustee is settled.”
“Let me do all the cooking,” Dianne suggested. “It’s the least I can do.”
Taylor didn’t want to take advantage of Dianne, but the offer would make life much easier while staying at the safe house. “You do realize we’ll have around ten people to feed, don’t you?”
“I cooked for all our friends before WITSEC,” Dianne said, “and I loved it.”
“Then you’re on. Mack loves to cook, and he might want to help, but I promise no one else will beg for KP duty. Agent Snow should have stocked the kitchen with fresh food by now so feel free to check it out.”
“I’ll do that.” Dianne bolted for the kitchen, her face alive with a bright and eager smile.
Taylor’s heart warmed at her protectee’s excitement. She’d been lost since coming into protection, and God was using this tough situation to make her feel useful. Something He excelled at. Not that Taylor had seen much evidence of this in her own life.
Maybe because you haven’t been looking for it.
Something Taylor might need to ponder, but she had no time to think about it now with Dustee still in the car. She took the stairs down to the large rec room, and spotted a round game table, foosball and pool tables, and an old upright piano. None of the team members noticed her, giving her a chance to assess the situation first.
Kiley was moving a chair from the seating area over to the fireplace, her wavy brown hair swinging over her shoulder. Stress. She was stressed. Sean mentioned that her secondary passion was interior design, and her need to decorate came out when she was under pressure.
On the far side of the room, Mack leaned against the wall by the pool table, cue in hand. He was just over six feet tall, with short reddish-brown hair. Like many of the guys Taylor worked with, Mack’s black tactical pants and cream-colored polo shirt with the Marshals Service’s logo embroidered on his broad chest made him look law-enforcement tough.
“Cam, buddy,” he said, staring at Cam, who was bent over the table, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he lined up his cue. “Maybe you should hold off on this shot while Kiley color-coordinates the table for you. Then you’ll manage to get at least one ball in the pocket before I slaughter you.”
“Seriously, Mack.” Kiley spun and shook her head. “That was so not funny.”
Mack broke out in a good-natured laugh. Cam rolled his eyes and took his shot, banking the three-ball into a corner pocket.
A pang of longing hit Taylor. What would it be like to be a regular member of this group? To become friends? Daily coworkers? Sure, she’d been a temporary member in the past and was again, for now anyway. But with the team housed across the country, they’d mostly communicated via email on the Montgomery Three investigation, and she’d remained on the fringes of the group.
Nothing new to her. She’d been on the outside ever since the day of Jeremy’s suicide. She’d gone from popular in high school to that girl, whose brother had taken his own life. No one knew what to do with her loss—with her. And with guilt coloring her every move back then, neither did she.
Even in college, she’d worried others might somehow discover she’d failed her brother. It carried into her adult life too. She could never be real. Never relax around other people and let the real Taylor come out. She’d only been able to do that with Sean because of their anonymity, and even then she hadn’t shared the details of her brother’s suicide.
She couldn’t. Not without risking her friendship with Sean. And now he was here in Portland. In her world. Able to see her expressions and know when she avoided answering him. Know when she was holding back. With his perceptive abilities, she had to watch what she said, as it was going to be harder than ever to keep her secret.
CHAPTER 9
“FINALLY,” KILEY SAID to Sean when he entered the basement family room.
He opened his mouth to mention that if Taylor hadn’t needed to use such an elaborate transport drill—a drill Sean had to admire, as she’d planned it so well that it felt like a choreographed dance—and clear the house, he would’ve been down here sooner. But he wouldn’t hurt her feelings by bringing it up, so he clamped his mouth shut and stepped to the side so that Taylor and Dustee could enter.
Mack set aside his pool cue and crossed over to Taylor, a broad smile on his face. Her eyes lit up in the way Sean had hoped they would’ve when he’d first arrived at her office, and a spasm of jealousy tightened his stomach. His response was illogical on so many levels, but he couldn’t control how he felt. He could control whether he let others see his feelings though.
“Sorry you’ve had such a rough night and day.” Mack drew Taylor in for a hug.
She went willingly into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder and looked so content that Sean’s gut churned even more. He should’ve been the one to offer her a hug. To be the friend she needed him to be, instead of some pushy agent needing to have his own way. He had a lot to make up for.
Mack released her. “Good to see you, Slim.”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
“What? Slim fits? I keep telling you you’re a tall drink of water.” He exaggerated the words in a lazy Texas drawl, which Sean had seen plenty of women find charming.
Sean needed the conversation to move on before he said something and hurt Taylor in the process. He cleared his throat. “Go ahead and have a seat, everyone, so we can get our meeting out of the way before dinner.”
Dustee stepped past Sean and zoned in on Mack. “Well, hello there, handsome.”
Sean saw her check Mack’s ring finger. He wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. A year ago, he’d split up with Addison Leigh—an ICE agent and former member of the RED team—but they never divorced. Why, Sean had no idea. All he knew was that when Addison could no longer work with Mack, she’d left them and they’d lost an amazing teammate.
“Go ahead and have a seat, Dustee,” Sean said, before he had to embarrass her by saying Mack, and all the guys on the team for that matter, were off-limits to her.
She sauntered across the room, dropped onto the sofa next to Cam, and gave Cam a coy smile. Thankfully, he didn’t react to her at all. He was the only non-law enforcement officer on the team, a computer geek in the nicest sense of the word, and as the youngest team
member, he was the closest in age to her. She would have more in common with him. Sean didn’t know what her deal was with the come-ons, but he would keep an eye on her and wouldn’t let them affect the investigation.
He introduced her to the team, sharing their specialties, then sat on the arm of the sofa. “So go ahead and bring everyone up to date on what you know about Phantom and your encounter last night.”
All eyes turned to Dustee, and she beamed back at them, obviously pleased to receive the attention. Sean waited for her to say something outrageous again. Instead, she succinctly recounted the same story she’d related back at the office. Not a bit of discrepancy between the two. If a person wasn’t telling the truth, it was hard to recall every fact, so her ability to do so helped to ease Sean’s anxiety.
She paused to take a deep breath, and a dusky shadow of fear darkened her eyes. “I should add that the biggest question I had when I worked with him was where he was born. It’s possible he’s of Russian descent.”
Sean had read that in the files but wanted to hear Dustee’s take on it. “Why’s that?”
She firmly met his gaze, but her hands trembled. “His code. We found a few Cyrillic letters left behind. Of course, they could’ve been false flags—just him trying to throw us off. He’s known for that too.”
Cam shifted to look at her. “So you think it’s a good possibility he’s not Russian?”
“Maybe.” She bit her lip. “I just don’t know. He’s smart. Real smart, and I’m thinking he wouldn’t make a mistake like that.”
“If he used Cyrillic letters,” Cam said, “then he would need the Cyrillic font on his computer.”
Dustee nodded. “And if Russian is his native tongue, he’d probably write the comments using that font and translate them before deploying the code. Maybe he missed a few letters.”
“But you don’t think he’s that sloppy?” Sean asked.
She shook her head. “Not the guy I worked with. This was found in his early coding, and he might not have been as careful back then. But that’s just a guess.”
Taylor sat forward in her chair across from Dustee. “Didn’t you get a feel for his ease with the English language when you communicated with him?”
“We only chatted online, and honestly, he seemed foreign. But I could fake that if I had to, and like I said, he’s crazy smart—like a genius—so I know he could fake it too.”
Sean thought about his online communication with Taylor. Could he have gotten away with faking a different nationality? He spoke fluent French and Spanish and could’ve probably pulled those off, but Russian was another thing altogether. It wasn’t as common of a language for people from other countries to learn. Still, Phantom wasn’t your everyday hacker, and he could’ve mastered the Russian language in order to better communicate with other hackers.
Something for Sean and the team to keep in mind. “As of now, we’re not dealing with altered code, but if we find it, we need to watch for Cyrillic letters and false flags.” Sean looked at Dustee. “Anything else we should know?”
“No. But his programming patterns are pretty ingrained in my head, and I’ll keep an eye out for those. You know the drill.”
Yeah, Sean did know the drill, but as lead on this investigation, he probably wouldn’t be reviewing a ton of logs or code. He’d be too busy managing the investigation, and that included protecting everyone from a killer with an unquenchable desire to murder anyone who got in his way.
“Why don’t we play a few rounds of pool, Slim?” Mack tipped his head at the pool table. “Erase some of the worry lines on your face.”
“Sounds perfect.” She smiled at her friend and went to select a cue. “But you’re going down.”
Mack laughed, and the sound of his joy cut the tension that lingered from Dustee’s departure. An outsider might think Mack was callous to laugh given the situation they were facing, but law enforcement officers, her included, often used humor to diffuse uncomfortable situations. Without it they would burn out, and with the high stakes facing them, they needed a few minutes of downtime too. She would play one game of pool and afterward get to work reviewing her protection plan.
Mack racked up the balls, cracking them against each other. Kiley and Cam came over to watch, and Taylor grabbed a cue.
“Dibs on the winner.” A mischievous grin quirked Cam’s mouth, making him look even younger than his twenty-nine years. “About time I prove my mad pool skills.”
“As if.” Kiley smiled, raising cheekbones Taylor would kill to have, and Taylor was once again struck by Kiley’s stunning beauty. Like Dianne, Kiley was oblivious to her good looks.
Taylor wanted Sean to join them, but he was glued to his phone in a hushed conversation in the corner, his shoulders rigid. This singular focus was not like the man she’d come to know online. It hurt her heart to see the demands of the job creasing his face, but a huge responsibility rested on his shoulders. The intense pressure was inevitable.
He suddenly shoved his phone into his pocket and strode to the piano in the far corner. He raised the lid and sat.
Taylor gawked at him. “Sean plays the piano?”
“He’s actually good at it,” Kiley said loudly, as if she wanted him to hear. “Especially for a dude who has no sense of rhythm on the dance floor.”
With the mood Sean seemed to be in, Taylor waited for him to get mad, but he turned and grinned at Kiley.
Oh, man. Taylor drew in a sharp breath. He was good-looking before, but with an earnest smile and a happy glow to his face? He was devastatingly handsome.
“Everything okay, Slim?” Mack asked.
She tried to shift her focus to her friend but couldn’t move a muscle, and if she could, she would likely be pulling out her phone and finding a way to take Sean’s picture.
Mack studied her. “Oh, I see.”
Cam pointedly cleared his throat. “Our fearless leader has that effect on the ladies.”
“You’re one to talk.” Kiley looked him in the eye. Only an inch or so taller than Taylor, Kiley’s posture was so perfect that she seemed taller. “How many different women have you dated this month?”
A wide smile brought out cute dimples in Cam’s face, but his smile did nothing for Taylor. Nothing at all.
“Go ahead and break, Slim,” Mack said. “If you can close your mouth and focus on the game, that is.”
She’d been gaping like Dustee. A rush of heat started at her chest and rose clear to the top of her head. She busied herself with chalking the stick and listening to the music flowing from the piano, dragging her attention right back to Sean. He was playing something classical. Something that sounded and looked extremely difficult. High notes. Low notes. Runs on the keyboard. Beautiful and haunting at the same time.
“He unwinds that way,” Kiley said. “And as a bonus, so do we.”
Really? He’d told her he unwound with target shooting and archery, but piano? Nah, he’d never mentioned that. Here she thought she knew him so well.
“Have to say,” Cam said, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Kiley, “your pillow and furniture moving doesn’t help in the same way.”
“And being a toy voyager does?” Kiley grinned.
“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
“What’s a toy voyager?” Taylor asked, honestly interested.
Kiley’s muted green eyes were fixed on Cam. “He sends his Game of Thrones Lego figures to people, who then take them on trips and send back pictures.”
“When you say it that way, it sounds stupid.” Cam frowned, his focus drifting to Taylor. “I want to travel. Just can’t afford the time right now. So I send the Kingslayer places I want to go and then I get pictures back featuring him. I like it.” He shrugged, looking uneasy.
“Sounds like fun.” Taylor squeezed his arm. “You’ll have to share your pictures with me.”
Kiley groaned. “No. No. Don’t ask. You’ll never get away from him.”
He gave her a playful lo
ok. “Just for that, I’ll make you sit through them too.”
She punched his arm, and Taylor was surprised at how at ease she felt with the team. Sure it was superficial and would disappear the moment they had work to do, but she was enjoying the interaction all the same.
Sean suddenly lifted his fingers from the keyboard, drawing everyone’s attention. He dug his phone from his pocket, looking at the screen as he got to his feet. “It’s a text from Eisenhower. The WITSEC database was taken offline this morning.”
“So no additional data has been stolen,” Taylor confirmed.
He nodded. “And my higher-level database access has been approved.”
“Means we can finally get to work.” Cam’s boyish expression from a moment ago was long gone, replaced by an intensity that fit his standing as part of the RED team. “No more hanging out and wasting time.”
“Soon.” Sean crossed the room. “Our IT contact at the Marshals’ office is cloning the WITSEC server now. We’ll have access by morning. For now, though, I can download the database logs. We can get started on those tonight.”
“Why a clone?” Taylor asked.
Sean turned to face her. “We can’t work with or modify actual files. They’re making a copy of the official server that hosts the database for our team to access instead. The only access to the database right now is still on the secured terminal at your office.”
“You can’t do it here?” she asked.
He shook his head. “We don’t have any network access here. Too many risks of being hacked and giving away our location. Plus database access is restricted to authorized terminals only.”
She didn’t understand and opened her mouth to question him further when he preempted her with a raised hand. “I’ll explain it all at your office. Shouldn’t take us too long. If we leave now, we can be back by dinnertime.”
“Sure,” she said, though agreeing to be alone with him for any amount of time was akin to throwing fuel on a fire. And she’d rather not go out again today. She was hoping to use the time to review her security plan and look for holes.