Jake walked over, leaning against the desk. “I checked with Lonnie. He says Emilia’s neighborhood was quiet that night. He’d like to keep it patrolled, but the precinct is short-handed.”
“I haven’t seen any sign of trouble there, either. Your cousin did what he could,” Hawke said. “I’m hoping you can dig up something on Ray or his girlfriend.”
“The new house was a red flag,” Jake said. “I’m doing a background on the girlfriend, see what comes up. And Amanda is getting the bank records on both of them.”
Hawke didn’t ask how that was done. Apparently, that information was accessible, if one knew how to get it. “I’m very interested in whether Ray has an undisclosed source of income.”
Jake thumped his hand on the desktop. “I’ll keep you posted.”
The computer dinged, indicating new emails. Hawke scanned to see that there were new intake forms. It was good to have Maddie, his office manager. In the beginning, he and Ryker had handled all the paperwork. But that wasn’t feasible on any long-term basis.
Prospective clients called then filled out the initial forms. Either Hawke or Ryker handled the interviews. Hawke planned to groove in other team members to take that over. The emails came in batches, so he prioritized based on urgency.
Hawke was immersed in details when Ryker strode up and said, “Take a look at this.” He slid his phone across the desk. On the screen, he saw Emilia’s name; it was in a bunch of comments on a thread.
“Check out her social media accounts,” Ryker said. “There’s more. You know we started monitoring them, handling her digital security.”
Hawke logged into one account, then another. It was all the same. Criticism was splattered across the media, attacks on her as well as her project. The posts and comments were untrue. He knew that without needing to check it out.
The claims were false, alleging wrongdoing on Emilia’s part and recommending that she quit. “When did this start?”
“Today, from what I can tell,” Ryker said. “I’ll trace the source, see what I can come up with.”
“I wonder if Emilia has seen this.” Hawke glanced at his computer, noting the time. “She works late, so she might not have checked social media. Maybe I can get to her first to prepare her.”
“Yeah, good idea,” Ryker said. “This is a social media explosion. It’s going to hit her hard.”
As Ryker headed back to his desk, Hawke grabbed his phone. He had no doubt that when Emilia saw the scathing comments about her that she’d be devastated. His call went straight to voicemail, so he hung up and sent a text: Call me right away.
Emilia should call shortly, as she was rarely inaccessible. Especially with all that was going on, she kept her phone close. Hawke took his jacket and headed out. If he couldn’t reach her by phone, he’d go in person.
He jogged to the Jeep and hopped in. Then he started up the engine, but took a moment to call again before pulling out of the lot. Emilia didn’t pick up, and she hadn’t responded to his text. He wondered what she could be doing and feared that she’d seen the news before he’d been able to break it to her easy.
If Emilia had read those posts, there was no telling what her emotional state was. He had to get her on the phone. She hadn’t answered his calls, so he was on alert. Maybe something else had happened. Hawke couldn’t stand the thought that she was alone, dealing with whatever it was.
One possibility after the other raced through Hawke’s mind. He breathed steadily, staying calm. It was likely that Emilia was lost in her work and unaware that anything had happened. He prayed that was it, and not anything worse.
Hawke’s gut told him that something was amiss. Worry nagged at him, and concern for Emilia pulled at his heartstrings. She meant so much to him, and was determined to get to her as fast as possible. He arrived at the lab in record time.
Not bothering with parking, Hawke pulled up in front. It was after hours, so the lot was empty—but he had to be sure that Emilia wasn’t there. The front entrance was locked up tight, but he knew security was on site. He rang the bell to get attention, and a uniformed guard came to the door.
The guard shook his head, then waved a hand and mouthed, “Closed.”
Hawke shoved his identification against the glass. It showed that he was a security professional, with Black Swan Protection written in gold on the card. The guard frowned then unclipped a bundle of keys from his belt.
The guard opened the door and stuck his head out. “What can I do to help you, sir?”
“I’m a friend of Emilia Draper. I haven’t been able to contact her and need to confirm whether she is still in the lab or not.”
“There’s no one here now. All the staff have left, Emilia included.”
Hawke put his foot in the door. “I need to know how long ago she left.”
The guard gave him a challenging look, and hesitated. Then he said, “I was on duty when she left for the day. It couldn’t have been more than an hour ago.”
Hawke spun around and ran to the Jeep. If that was true, Emilia could be at the condo, so he’d go there directly. There was also the chance that she’d gone to dinner or met a girlfriend. He hoped that wasn’t the case. She was still out of touch, so it was best if he didn’t have to hunt for her.
He sent another text: I need you to call me, now.
Hawke revved the engine and burned rubber exiting the lot. Maybe he was overreacting; he hoped so. He’d prefer to find Emilia unharmed than for his fears to be correct. He drove to her condo as fast as he dared. He didn’t want to encounter a delay with a traffic cop, as he wouldn’t relax until he saw Emilia and knew that she was safe.
Chapter 7
Stunned by the news, Emilia closed her eyes. She gripped her phone as though it was a viper ready to strike. But tossing her phone wouldn’t make the issue go away. Reading the venom that had been blasted across all the platforms had devastated her.
She took a breath and tried to calm down. Her world had spun out of control. The implications of what had just happened were far-reaching. It could affect the project, cut the funding, and put the cure out of reach. If it was only her reputation at stake, it wouldn’t be so bad.
But professional opinions of her paled in comparison to the life of a child. She wanted to get away, get some air, have time to think. When she stood, the forgotten lunch bag fell to the floor. Too upset to eat, she nearly left it there.
Emilia scooped up the bag and headed for the exit. After walking past the guard without a word, she stepped into the cool evening air. Still she felt suffocated. It was all too much, and she had no idea how to curtail the attacks.
Once inside her car, she locked the doors. It was tempting to look at the phone again, to see if there was more. And she should reply to Tia, let her know that she was okay—yet she wasn’t okay at all. Feeling desperate, she turned off the phone. At least she could cut communication until she figured out what to do.
The avalanche of media was embarrassing. Emilia thought of calling her boss, but didn’t want to deal with that yet. It was likely Mac had seen it all; she only hoped he hadn’t caved to the pressure. She had to find a way to convince him that she could lessen the impact of the falsehoods.
First Emilia had to figure out how to do that. She couldn’t do it right then, while in such turmoil. A hot bath with her door locked and her phone off would go a long way toward her recovery. She focused on that, unable to embrace more at that moment.
No one had physically harmed her, but she was damaged anyway. The verbal assaults had shaken her to the core. As she drove toward the waterfront, the shock began to wear off. The situation had been annoying before, but it had taken a turn for the worse.
Emilia drove home, feeling numb and lifeless. She was vaguely aware that the city around her was a haze of blue and gold under the night lights. It was a blur as was the road in front of her. When she finally arrived at her complex, she parked but didn’t get out.
Still reeling, she sat to stare at
the river and gaze up at the bridge. The familiar scene helped to center her. Circumstances in her life had shifted without warning, and it all seemed a bit unreal. The view of the water and bridge calmed her, because they hadn’t changed. They were still the lovely sights she’d looked at daily.
For some time, she sat there in the dark with the car doors locked. When she was ready, she grabbed her stuff and slid out. Still shaken, she took several deep breaths before feeling better. It was going to be all right. She’d figure something out; she had to.
While taking the elevator up to her place, she contemplated a nice bath, sinking into the hot water and blocking out the world. When the elevator opened, she dug into her purse for her key, but something caught her eye. The door was ajar.
Clutching her keys, she stepped closer. There was no noise inside and no one around in the hall. With a nudge, the door opened wider and she peeked inside, unwilling to enter until she was sure no one was waiting to grab her.
It had been that kind of day, making her extra cautious. She shoved the door wide, still standing in the hallway. If she had to make a run for it, she’d be able to. Her heart raced at what she saw. She instantly felt violated.
The place had been ransacked. Emilia stepped inside and gawked at the destruction. Furniture had been overturned, papers were strewn about, items were broken. She slammed the door behind her, then strode inside.
The scene made her furious. Leaning down, she picked up a couch pillow, then another. It was ridiculous, as it would take a week to get her condo cleaned up—if it could be made the same as before the intrusion. In all the mayhem, it would take a while to determine if anything was missing.
Surely, no one was foolhardy enough to think that she’d keep lab records at her place. Confused, she dropped her purse and lunch sack on the counter to begin picking things up. Cleaning up was futile, so she stopped to lean against the wall to survey the damage.
It appeared the perpetrator was intent on wreaking the most havoc possible. Many things were tossed about or broken, but she could see no reason why they’d been of interest. Fury surged through her veins over the nerve of someone to enter her home like this. She had no valuables that would lure a thief, and no documents anyone would seek.
Emilia walked through every room, looking around, taking it all in. She swore and dug her hands through her hair. Before she did anything else, touched anything, it would be best to call the police. Although it was doubtful that a condo break-in would get much attention.
Then it struck her that the enemy knew where she lived. Until now, the attacks had been public, but this had made it more personal. Terror crept into her consciousness as she realized what that meant. Any privacy she’d cherished had been shattered, so there was no telling what was next.
A sound from the other room startled her. Then there was a knock on the door. “Emilia? Are you in here?”
It was Hawke.
Emilia expelled a breath then managed to say, “In here.”
After a moment, Hawke appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, a welcome sight indeed.
“What the hell happened around here?” He walked closer. “Are you okay?”
Emilia fell into his open arms, and he held her against his solid chest. She hugged him tight, so relieved that he was there. “Hawke…”
“I’m with you.” He put his hand on her cheek to tip her face toward his. “Are you hurt?”
Emilia shook her head. “No…no.” She took a deep breath then waved a hand in the air. “Whoever did this was gone before I arrived.”
Hawke took a few steps, checking out the mess. “Most likely the person knew you weren’t at home.” He studied the room, then went out to examine the others. “Was anything stolen?”
“I don’t know yet,” Emilia said. “But I didn’t have any valuables here. Although it’s going to cost enough to repair the damage.”
Hawke continued to look around without touching anything.
“If breaking into my condo was meant to upset me,” Emilia said, “it worked.”
“I don’t see any purpose other than harassment.”
Emilia stood next to him. “How did you know to come here?”
“I didn’t, exactly,” Hawke said. “I, uh…was looking for you for another reason.”
The light dawned when she looked into his eyes. “You know, don’t you…about the social media?”
Hawke nodded. “I was hoping you didn’t, and I was trying to get to you before you read it.” He frowned. “Looks like I failed.”
Emilia was silent. If he’d read those posts, then he knew what there was to know.
“I couldn’t reach you. Why didn’t you reply to my texts?”
“Oh, God…sorry.” Emilia slumped onto a dining room chair. “I turned the phone off.”
Hawke didn’t admonish her further. “I recommend that you call the police. This incident will go in your file, although I don’t have confidence that they’ll track down the guy who broke in.”
Emilia agreed, so made the call. Hawke advised her not to move anything else until they arrived. “Might as well let them look it over and take photos first.”
The police got there fairly rapidly, but the wait seemed long. Emilia was anxious to put the trauma behind her. The prospect of a police interview was unnerving. Two officers showed up and inspected the damage, then asked her a few questions.
There wasn’t much Emilia could tell them. She didn’t know who would want to do this. Ray’s retaliation was already on record, so the police asked if she thought it was related. “Related? Yes, I do,” Emilia said. “But I don’t believe that Ray did this.”
The cops dusted for prints and got the data they needed for their report. By the time they left, Emilia was exhausted. She’d scoured the place, but it didn’t appear that anything was stolen. If she made any new discoveries, she’d let them know.
After they’d gone, Hawke stood by the door. “Have you eaten?”
Emilia lifted the crumpled bag from the dining table. “Care to split part of a veggie wrap?”
That got a laugh. “No way. I’m sure we can find something better than that,” Hawke said. “Let’s go; I’m going to make sure you eat.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“You will be, once you settle down,” Hawke said. “And I’m not leaving you in this battle zone. In fact, throw a few things in a suitcase. I’m not letting you stay here tonight.”
Emilia’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought of that. Shouldn’t I book my hotel room before we go to dinner?”
Hawke furrowed his brow. “What hotel room? You’re staying at my place.” He held up his hand. “No arguments. This time I really will sleep in the other room, and you can have my bed. You need some rest.”
Emilia sighed, knowing that it was no good arguing with him. She certainly didn’t relish the idea of sleeping in her demolished condo. “I don’t feel like cleaning all this up tonight anyway,” she said. “I appreciate the offer.”
*****
The ride to Hawke’s apartment was relaxing, as much as it could be after what had happened. He’d opted to cook for her, as if he hadn’t done enough already. But Emilia didn’t argue, as she’d much rather eat at home than go out.
Emilia was glad that he didn’t bring up the social media issue, as she wasn’t ready to deal with it. She took a minute to text her girlfriend, as Tia would be concerned if she didn’t hear anything. All Emilia wrote was: Deciding how to handle things. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Hawke lived in a gated community in West Philly. “We rented the townhomes, and a lot of the team members live there. It’s secure, and it gives the new hires a place to go. It’s not fancy, but I prefer all of us being together.”
“I like that idea,” Emilia said. “I’ll feel safer knowing that we’re in an enclave of former military.”
It was late by the time they arrived, and Emilia’s stomach rumbled. “I am getting hungry, after all.” It was good to have Ha
wke with her. His presence gave her a sense of security.
Hawke put his arm around her to guide her to his front door. “I’m not a gourmet cook, but I can make a tasty, filling meal.”
The rows of townhomes were fairly nondescript from the outside. But inside, the place wasn’t bad. Hawke showed her around and put her suitcase in the master bedroom. It looked like the place had been recently renovated. There was stylish oak laminate flooring throughout, a modern bath, and stainless-steel kitchen appliances.
“The best part is the roof deck; it’s even landscaped,” Hawke said. “But it’s too cold tonight. I’ll show you another time.”
Emilia followed him to the kitchen, where he offered her a drink. “Wine sounds good.” He poured her a glass of red wine, then popped open a beer and took a swig.
“Shall we go to the living room?” Hawke ushered her to a sofa then sat beside her. “I think you’re going to need several glasses of that,” he said, motioning toward her wine.
“I need to regroup after all that’s happened.”
“I was really concerned about you,” Hawke said. “Is that social media as bad as it looked?”
“Worse,” Emilia said. “You have no idea.” She took another sip of wine, then reached for her purse on the coffee table. She pulled out her wallet and found the photograph. “This is Asha.”
“You carry a picture of her?” Hawke looked at the young girl. She had her brown hair in ponytails with white ribbons. She’d been barely five years old at that time, and was small for her age. Her sky-blue eyes revealed innocence. Asha’s young life would end prematurely unless Emilia could intervene—yet the girl smiled brightly at the camera.
“Have you met her?”
Emilia nodded. “I visit her when I can. Her parents are very cooperative. They trust me to keep everything private and are supportive of my efforts.” She leaned her head against the sofa. “That’s what breaks my heart. All those attacks threaten Asha’s chances.”
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