It felt like she was sitting on the train across a table from Miles before she knew it.
He’d even thought to get them dinner before boarding.
“You’re very good at this,” she said as she positioned her food container so it was parallel with the edge of the tale.
“What?” He blinked at her, his drink halfway to his mouth.
“This picking up and going in a rush.” She slumped back in her seat. “It’s not one of my strengths.”
“I imagine you don’t do a lot of visiting crime scenes?”
“No. No, I don’t. I have my lab set up just the way I like it. Things come to me. I stay far away from all this danger.” She sighed. “I just feel like...so much is happening.”
“You’re doing an excellent job.”
“Thank you.”
He tapped her container of food. “Eat something.”
She opened the box and stared at the standard fish and chips. It was still hot enough steam was coming off the , so she tore it into smaller bits so it would cool faster.
“What if this is where Valentino went after the condo? What does this tell us? Valentino had a disagreement with someone he was working with? Could it be a rival? The woman’s boyfriend or something?”
“It could be nothing, but we won’t know until we investigate it.”
She leaned her elbows on the table. “It can’t be cheap to move around like this. Valentino destroyed his entire rig. That’s going to take a couple thousand dollars to put back together.”
“What are you getting at?” Miles bit off an extra-long fry.
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “We made a move. Valentino made a move. We broke into the condo. Valentino came after us. It just feels like a lot is happening and this is when mistakes are made.”
“We’ll be careful,” Miles said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She glanced up and met his gaze.
This wasn’t Miles the government agent looking at her. It was Miles, the man.
“I guess we’re getting to have dinner together after all,” she said slowly.
He gestured to the food. “This wasn’t what I had in mind.”
She’d admired his intensity before it was aimed at her. Now it made her want to hide under the table. “Too bad it has to be a work dinner.”
Diha ate a few of the fries to give her something to do that wasn’t just staring at him.
Miles, on the other hand, had no issue with openly watching her while he ate.
How did a man make chewing look sexy?
She managed to look away, and it was like her brain came back on-line.
What had she been getting at?
“I wonder if Valentino’s going to have money problems,” she said out lout.
“Someone who pulls off jobs like they do has to be getting the big bucks.”
“Yeah, but it takes a lot of money to do these jobs and remain off the police’s radar. It’s expensive to be that level of a criminal.”
“What are you getting at?” Miles asked.
“I’m wondering if we tried to hire Valentino if we couldn’t trap him.”
Miles chuckled. “We’ve tried that before.”
“But not under these circumstances.” She looked back at him and found that he’d pushed his food aside to focus on her. “I mean, it could be different this time. I know more about how Valentino operates. I could maybe bait the trap better.”
“I don’t like that plan. Entrapping someone of this caliber is dangerous business and I don’t want you doing that.”
“You don’t—seriously?” Diha frowned at him. “This is my job, Miles. This is why I’m here. And besides, you wouldn’t want me to actually be there when it went down. I wouldn’t be any help in that situation. Be reasonable.”
He frowned at her, then took a drink.
“Let’s see what we find in Brighton and take it from there.”
Diha glared at him. This conversation wasn’t over and if she thought her plan was the best one, she’d go to Zora with it. Diha couldn’t always stay in her safe bubble at the lab. That was what she was learning lately. Some jobs were dangerous and this one was downright scary, but it still had to be done. She wasn’t going to let this hacker make her friends out to be criminals and hurt more innocent people. They were going to stop Valentino.
Of course, after that there would only be more steps to take as they got closer to their actual objective. She couldn’t lose sight of that, and neither could she tell anyone else.
Least of all Miles.
THURSDAY. CRIME SCENE. Brighton, United Kingdom.
The sound of Miles’ feet crunching dead leaves as he slowly paced the length of the building was not a good sign.
This was not an area of town where people were likely to see or hear anything. After listening to Detective Davies account of the crime scene after his arrival, it was a wonder it had been reported at all. If it weren’t for the delivery boy who’d found all the blood, Miles had to wonder if they’d known about the murder.
The forensics team was still there going over the place, but Miles wanted to have a look around before he headed inside.
The building was older and had been sold a number of times over the last ten years. It wasn’t a large property. The storefront down below had been vacant for close to six months, a testament to how quiet this area was. According to Zora, the shop had at one time been an internet café, which was when it had also served as the base for some rudimentary hacking scams.
Now the windows were covered up with boards and it almost appeared condemned.
He peered up at the windows around them, taking note that almost all of them only showed a dim inner light, which meant the neighbors kept their blinds down and curtains drawn.
There would be no eyewitness account of the crime.
Miles turned to glance back over his shoulder.
Davies and Diha stood on the sidewalk, talking softly.
“I’m going to head in,” Miles said to them.
Diha took a step toward him.
He wanted to tell her to stay back, but that wasn’t his place.
She’d been right to call him out on the train. He couldn’t protect her, not when it was her job to be out here just like him. He’d have to squash that urge to shelter her at all times. It wasn’t like the job was unfamiliar to her.
Miles waited for Diha to join him, with Davies bringing up the rear.
“Based on the report it sounds like our man must have come through this front door here.” Miles stopped several feet from the door. Blood still lay thick on the sidewalk, which made the drag marks standout.
“He was found inside though,” Diha muttered.
“Correct.” Miles accepted two pair of foot coverings, passing the second to her. “Bloke knocks on the door, fires inside. His targets fire back, killing him, drag the body inside and flee the scene. This way.”
“And no one called that in?”
He led her around to a side entrance the forensics team was using. There they paused to slip on the coverings before stepping inside. “Most people probably didn’t know what they were hearing.”
Miles put his back to the wall and took in the activity.
The lights were on and the team had brought supplementary lighting in with them.
The shop front had become some sort of apartment.
Two rumpled queen beds were up against the far wall. A sofa sat opposite them, up near the windows. The TV had been smashed, probably during the altercation.
Markers indicated where the body had been left there between the beds. The blood was nearly dry.
In his mind, he tried to picture the scene.
“Valentino goes to the door. He opens it because maybe he thinks it’s his dinner. This guy,” he gestured at the markers, “is there. He pulls a gun, but misses at close range?”
That didn’t seem right.
It wasn’t impossible, but the kind of person w
ho’d be able to track Valentino also had to know they’d need to be very skilled.
“Davies?” Miles said over his shoulder. He scanned the room, noting other markers.
“Yeah?” The older man leaned against the door.
“When will we know how many people bled in this room?”
Davies sighed. “This place is disgusting. It’ll be a few days before we know, though.”
“Stay here,” Miles said to Diha.
He stepped carefully through the room, winding through the markers toward the front door.
“Did the beds have sheets and things on them?” he asked the room.
“Yes, sir.” A man wearing a white suit over his clothes to prevent contamination straightened, giving Miles his full attention. “Sheets and everything were taken as evidence.”
“Was there blood splatter? Did someone...” Miles faced the door, intentionally putting his back to the bed. “Is it possible whoever was here got shot and their blood landed there?”
“That bed was doused in something,” Davies said.
Diha crossed the room, moving gracefully. Before Miles could warn her against getting too close, she bent and inhaled just over the mattress in question.
“Acetone.” She straightened and looked at him. “This mattress had acetone poured on it.”
Which meant the DNA was likely useless.
“Damn it,” Miles muttered.
“It’s him,” Diha said, her gaze sharp.
Acetone had been used on the computer back at the condo.
Here it had been used to hide evidence.
It was a common enough chemical that drawing the conclusion was a stretch, but he wanted it to be right.
“This is where he went,” she said, excitement tinging her words.
“Who?” Davies asked.
“Best you not know for now,” Miles said.
It would be far too easy for the hacker to destroy evidence if they started pinning that name to this case. Best to let the investigation proceed as normal for now.
Miles turned, looking at the place with new eyes.
Two beds.
So the woman helping Valentino wasn’t a lover? Or was she gone?
Miles slid past the other men and women doing their job. He peered into the bathroom and paused.
There were two sticks of deodorant on the counter. One a masculine scent. The other meant for a woman.
A bralette also hung on the towel rack.
The woman was still in the picture.
Miles turned to look at Diha. What were the chances she could go back over all their security footage and find the woman?
That could be their missing piece. How they finally found Valentino.
Miles needed to talk to Diha. Alone. Away from Davies and his team.
“I think we’re done here,” Miles announced.
Diha frowned at him. “But...”
“Davies, think you could help us find somewhere to stay?” The safe house last night had worked out, but Miles didn’t want to stay at the same place twice.
“Sure.”
Miles closed the distance and said quietly, “Preferably somewhere not on the government’s approved hotel list. Somewhere quiet and safe.”
Davies nodded slowly. He knew about the attack at the hotel the night before. “I know a guy. Cop work wasn’t for him. He and his wife rent out space through one of those apps. He’s a good guy. Runs a clean operation.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d make the introduction. Would it be possible to pay in cash?” Miles didn’t want to trust an app either.
“I’ll make a call. Come on.” Davies turned and headed back toward the car.
“Miles, why are we leaving so soon?” Diha followed Miles out into the alley.
He slowed to a snail’s pace. “We’ve seen what we needed to. And I want to run some ideas by you. In private.”
“Oh.”
“Come on.”
Davies wasn’t much of a talker which Miles appreciated. He had too many details running through his mind to carry on with a man he barely knew.
The rented space Davies had mentioned wasn’t a terribly long drive, and before they knew it they’d pulled into the driveway. Thanks to Davies working out the accommodations on the way, they bid the detective goodnight and paused to get the keys to their room. Their room for the night wound up being a quaint one-room cottage off the main house. According to Davies, people also stayed in the home with the owners, but Miles wanted privacy. Paying in cash actually got them a better deal, and the couple promised to stay out of their way. All in all, it was the best set-up Miles could have hoped for.
“This is...cute,” Diha said, peering around the space.
Her tone did not imply cute.
He looked around, trying to see it from her perspective.
There was a sofa facing the fireplace on his right. A small table and chairs to his left. They had a tiny kitchen in the corner and the rest of the space was given over to a dresser and the king sized bed. He supposed the other door led to a bathroom. The furniture was older, but painted white. There were flowers in two vases that tied into the pale yellow color seen throughout the space in tea towels, cushions and the quilt spread over the bed.
The space was intimate.
If he’d chosen this destination, his goal would be to not leave the cottage for the duration of his stay.
“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” he said.
While he’d have preferred a replay of the night before, he could also sense a subtle change between them. The easiness they’d had was gone, and Diha was on edge.
Maybe he’d moved too fast last night, but he couldn’t regret it. After seeing her hurt like that and the fear of her getting shot, he’d needed to hold her. The way things had progressed were natural. It had felt right. At least to him.
He couldn’t begin to fathom what she thought. So he’d back off, give her some space. For now.
“What’s this idea you wanted to talk about?” She set her laptop on the table and turned to face him.
He set their bags down by the door and faced her, his mind returning to the task at hand.
“The woman. Is it possible we could have missed her somewhere else? Two beds, both clearly slept in. She’s not his girlfriend. She’s a partner, or something.”
Diha’s shoulders slumped. “Cat’s been trying to track her down, but so far nothing.”
“You already thought of this?”
“It was part of my initial investigation. Especially once we caught sight of her in the windows at the condo. The images weren’t clear to run another facial, but it’s for sure the same girl from the train hack. I don’t know who she is, but she’s clearly part of this.”
“Damn,” Miles muttered. “I thought I had something.”
“It was a good idea. It is a good idea and we’re working on it. Could we tap a few of your people to help Cat with it? She’s going to be focused on the drive we recovered and won’t have time to comb through surveillance.”
“I can make that happen.”
“Great.” Diha hid a yawn behind her hand.
He wanted to undo her braid and put her to bed in his shirt again, but he held back. “Let’s get some rest. It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, okay.” She cast one last glance over her shoulder at him before heading into the bathroom.
Miles blew out a breath. Slow and steady. That was the best way to play this.
13.
Thursday. Bed and Breakfast. Brighton, United Kingdom.
Diha lay in the luxuriously comfortable bed, staring at the ceiling. She tapped her finger against her stomach, counting off the seconds. She was still awake. What time was it now?
The last time she’d glanced at the clock, she’d realized she’d been lying here for an hour, completely unable to fall asleep. She’d lost track of the times she’d reached sixty before starting over.
Whoever said counting helped lull a person to sleep was
full of it.
She’d been so tired earlier, but the moment she lay down her mind had come on-line and she’d been wide awake. Her stomach was all tied up in knots. Too bad she wasn’t thinking of anything useful, like some magic way to find Valentino before breakfast.
No, she couldn’t stop wondering if Miles was comfortable or if he’d been able to fall asleep on the sofa. Or why he hadn’t tried to kiss her since the elevator.
He was a tall man and that wasn’t a large couch, but he’d insisted on playing the role of the gentleman. She’d almost wanted to just tell him to share the bed with her. It was huge and unless they went looking for each other, they wouldn’t even have to touch. But she knew where that would go. Where she wanted it to go. And where it couldn’t go.
A sense of longing settled on her. This happened whenever her thoughts circled back to this point.
There was no future for her and Miles. Pretending otherwise was setting herself up for heartache.
This was pointless.
Lying here restless accomplished nothing.
She sighed and pushed the comforter down to her waist.
Miles hadn’t shifted or made a noise for almost forty-five minutes. He had to be asleep. If she was quiet, maybe she could pull out her laptop and get something done. At least then she’d be exhausted and productive come the morning. Even if it was just busy work.
She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. Tomorrow was going to be a rough, long day, but maybe she’d make it a little easier on herself.
Now, where was her laptop?
She seemed to recall leaving it on the breakfast table by the door.
Diha slid off the bed and stretched, her muscles oddly tight and sore. It had to be from the traveling, not drinking enough water, the normal sort of thing.
The cottage was still wrapped in silence.
Miles had to be asleep. He just had to be.
She clung to that certainty and padded across the floor, feeling for the rolling cart that served as a kitchen island. With the curtains blocking out the light, it was dark inside.
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