“I don’t want that, Gray. I really, really don’t.” She yanked on the sleeve of his shirt. “You don’t believe that of me, do you?”

  “No. I just don’t want you to trust Olaf—and it’s not because I’m jealous of the influence he has over you.”

  “Influence.” She swept her tongue across her bottom lip. “It’s not influence. H-he’s my boss.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Whatever you say. Let’s eat.”

  With Amit gone, Jerrica secured her laptop beneath the floorboards in the spare room and grabbed her purse from the back of a chair. “I’m not sure we need jackets. It’s starting to warm up.”

  Gray stuffed his arms into his and patted a pocket. “I’d wear it if it were a hundred degrees out there. Easier to carry my weapon.”

  She led the way down to the basement, and they slipped into the alley. This time, they shot across the alley and ducked between two buildings to make their way out to a different street. Each time they had used a different route. If someone circled her building around to the back, they’d find an exit door on the side of the building but only the building next to hers had a door to the alley, and nobody would know to watch that door unless he or she knew about the connection between the two buildings.

  This time they exited onto the street next to a dry cleaner.

  “Someplace nearby?” Gray took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers as he glanced over his shoulder.

  “There’s a Mediterranean place about three blocks down. Sound okay?”

  “As long as I can get some meat.” They walked for a couple of minutes, then he steered her close to a building to get out of the stream of pedestrian traffic and leaned over to tie his shoe...which was already tied.

  “What do you see?” She pressed her shoulders against the brick wall, her knees suddenly weak.

  “A guy who’s been behind us for a block—meandering but always following our path. He just ducked into a shop.”

  “What does he look like?” Jerrica slid her gaze to the left without moving her head.

  “Medium height, baseball cap, jeans, Chucks.”

  As Gray straightened to his full height, Jerrica pushed off the wall. “What kind of baseball cap? What team?”

  Gray jerked his head to the side. “I can’t tell from this distance—dark color, blue maybe. Why?”

  “Cedar’s signature is a Dodgers baseball cap.”

  “He might be following us to talk to us...or kill us.” Gray took her arm and steered her through the crowd.

  “That wouldn’t be easy if we’re in a crowded restaurant.” She bumped his shoulder. “Besides, if he’s warning me about Olaf, I don’t think Cedar is working with him.”

  “And if it’s not Cedar, someone else is following us.” Gray brushed some imaginary debris from his shoulder and twisted his head, peering behind them. “Dodgers.”

  “It’s Cedar. Too much of a coincidence.” Jerrica wiped her sweaty palms on the thighs of her black pants. “He’s not going to approach us out here, so let’s keep walking and leave the ball in his court.”

  “He’d better not make any suspicious moves—or any more suspicious moves—than he has already.” Gray released her hand and stuck his own in the pocket of his jacket. “Why doesn’t he contact you through the normal channels?”

  “He heard what happened to Kiera. He probably thinks someone compromised our mode of communication.”

  “Someone or Olaf?”

  “I guess he’ll tell us, won’t he?” She tipped her head in Cedar’s general direction. “Or he’s following us to see if anyone else is following us.”

  “You’re giving me a headache. How much farther is this restaurant?”

  “A half a block up and to the right.”

  They trudged on in silence, Gray throwing discreet glances behind them every few seconds to keep tabs on Cedar. “He’s still with us.”

  “Just as long as nobody else is.” She poked his ribs. “You’ve been so fixated on Cedar, have you been paying attention to the rest of our surroundings? We don’t have any other tails, do we?”

  “That’s why Cedar stuck out. I’ve been scanning behind us ever since we popped out from between those two buildings. We’re still good. Like I said before, maybe they gave up getting to you outside your apartment.”

  They turned the corner, and Jerrica plucked at Gray’s sleeve. “It’s up there, on the right, blue awning.”

  Gray opened the door for her, and she stepped into the noise. Someone would have to be bold to take a shot at them in here—or try to abduct her. Maybe they could enjoy a meal in peace—at least until Cedar got here.

  Would he really point the finger at Olaf? She couldn’t believe Olaf would ever hurt her, but she hadn’t been hurt. That man in the alley had had ample opportunity to knife her. The guy in Washington Square Park had had a clear shot at her. She’d escaped both times, thanks to Gray. But if Gray hadn’t been there, would she be dead right now or secreted away somewhere?

  She even had an idea of where. She shivered, and Gray entwined his fingers with hers.

  He asked, “Are you all right?”

  “Hungry and tired. I’ll be fine.”

  The host showed them to a table near the bar. “Is this okay?”

  “Yes.” Gray pulled out a chair for her and then took the seat facing the door, his back to the bar.

  Jerrica leaned in. “You’re watching for Cedar?”

  “I wanna see his demeanor when he comes through that door. I wanna see his hands.”

  She ran her tongue around the inside of her dry mouth. “I hope, for his sake, he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

  “You and me both.”

  Cedar took his time getting there. She and Gray got water, tea and pita bread, and had placed their order before Gray’s eyes narrowed.

  Jerrica swiveled her head to the side and watched Cedar, his Dodgers baseball cap pulled low on his forehead, navigate his way through the tables on his way to the bar. His hands swung freely at his sides, and he never even glanced their way.

  “So far, so good.” Gray’s eye twitched and he took a gulp of water from his glass. “What’s his plan?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, but as long as he doesn’t pull out a knife, a gun or a needle, I’m good.”

  “A needle?” Gray’s eyebrows shot up to his tousled hair.

  “I think that’s how they poisoned Russell. How else? He’d been at school all day. Someone bumped into him and did something—needle, skin poison.”

  “All Cedar has is a beer.”

  Jerrica glanced up as the bartender placed a mug in front of Cedar, who then crooked his finger at a waitress. Jerrica dropped her gaze to her iced tea, stirring it with her straw.

  Her cautious coworker wanted to keep their connection a secret. Who was she to blow his cover?

  When their food came, Jerrica pointed her fork at Gray’s lamb kebab. “Let me know what you think.”

  A waitress approached their table with two beers and tossed down a couple of cocktail napkins. “Compliments of your friend at the bar, but he doesn’t want any thanks. That’s what he told me to say, anyway.”

  “Okay, well, thank you, then.” Gray curled his fingers around the handle and raised the glass to her before she turned away.

  “What does this mean?” Jerrica flicked some foam from the top of the mug.

  “The waitress placed an extra napkin on the table, right in front of you.” Gray tapped it with his finger. “Take a look at it.”

  Jerrica pinched the edge of the napkin and turned it over. A black scrawl covered the square. She smoothed her thumb across the paper and read aloud in a low voice. “Be careful. Olaf is back. He must be the one who outed Kiera, all of us. I was being followed.”

  Jerrica’s heart fluttered in her chest, and she gulped in a few breaths. “I’m going to reply.”

  “Go ahead. He’s still at the bar.”

  Jerrica dipped her hand into her purse, pulled out a pen and put the point to the napkin. It scratched the paper. She shook the pen. “No ink.”

  She dropped the pen on the table and dug through her purse for another. “This one works. What should I write?”

  “Ask him how he knows it’s Olaf and why?”

  Jerrica scribbled the questions on the napkin and asked their waiter to send over the cocktail waitress.

  When the waitress arrived, Jerrica crumpled the napkin in her hand. “Can you please take this back to the bar?”

  The waitress rolled her eyes, but she took the napkin from Jerrica and walked back to the bar with her empty tray. She dropped the balled-up paper in front of Cedar and returned to work.

  Jerrica tried to concentrate on her food, but her stomach churned. Why would Olaf betray them? It didn’t make sense. Had these people bought him off, or had Dreadworm always put their interests first? The thought sickened her even more. She pressed a hand against her belly.

  “What’s wrong?” Gray shoved a water glass toward her. “You look green.”

  “I don’t feel well.” She scooted her chair away from the table. “Watch for Cedar’s reply. I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

  Gray stood up when she did, his gaze scanning the room.

  “It’s okay.” She patted his arm. “We know we weren’t followed—except by Cedar. I’m just humoring him because I know what it’s like to be in a state of paranoia.”

  She threaded her way through the tables to the hallway to the left of the bar. When she reached the restroom, she went into one of the stalls. At the table, she’d felt nauseous, but getting up and moving had helped. As she ripped off a short length of toilet paper to blow her nose, someone entered the bathroom and she leaned to the side to peer beneath the stall door.

  A pair of sensible low-heeled shoes planted themselves in front of the vanity, and Jerrica eased out a breath.

  She blew her nose and dropped the tissue into the toilet. As she exited the stall, she traded gazes in the mirror with a middle-aged woman washing her hands.

  The woman smiled and rinsed her hands while Jerrica pumped the soap dispenser at the sink next to her.

  The woman passed behind her on her way to the paper towels, and Jerrica felt a sharp stab in her side.

  As she gasped and spun around, she raised her fist to bash the woman in the face but her limbs turned to warm jelly.

  The woman’s smile broadened as Jerrica slid to the floor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gray picked up the pen on the table and tapped it against the side of his glass. Maybe Cedar just had a feeling about Olaf and no proof at all. Feelings didn’t do them much good.

  The pen rattled and Gray wrinkled his brow. He shook the pen again. His pulse ticked up a notch. He pulled the cap from the pen and dragged the point across a napkin, ripping it to shreds.

  The blood roared in his ears. He unscrewed the top of the pen and tipped out a black device onto the table. He slammed his fist against the GPS and jumped up.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cedar spin around on the barstool, but Gray didn’t have time to explain. He charged toward the restrooms, his heart pounding out of his chest.

  Jerrica hadn’t been in there long, and he’d seen just one middle-aged woman head into the hallway after her.

  Gray slammed his shoulder against the ladies’ room door, but it didn’t budge. He banged on the door with his fist. “Open up. Jerrica?”

  Cedar drew up behind him and panted. “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone tracked us here. A pen in Jerrica’s purse had a GPS device in it.”

  Cedar cursed. “I knew it. I knew they’d find a way. I knew Olaf would find a way.”

  Gray kicked the door with his boot. “Open it now.”

  A woman’s voice answered. “Move out of the way, or she’s dead.”

  “Jerrica?” Gray croaked her name from a throat parched with fear. “I want to hear her speak.”

  “She can’t speak.”

  Gray dug his fingers into his scalp. “Why not? What did you do to her?”

  Cedar touched Gray’s shoulder and pointed to a wide-eyed woman at the end of the hallway. He called to her. “Sorry, ma’am. Just a little domestic altercation. My sister got tipsy and locked herself in the bathroom.”

  “Sh-should I get the manager?”

  “Not yet. We’ll be out of your way soon.”

  “Move away from the door.” The woman hissed from the bathroom. “Or I swear, I’ll end it here.”

  Cedar pulled at Gray’s arm. “Give her space so we can see Jerrica—see that she’s okay.”

  Against every instinct in his body, Gray stepped away from the door, his muscles aching from tension.

  A click resounded from inside the ladies’ room and the door eased open. The woman he’d seen earlier wedged her body against the door and pulled Jerrica’s limp form in front of her, placing a gun against her temple. “She’s just drugged. We won’t hurt her. We just need information. That’s what she does, anyway, exposes data. We want her to expose it to us.”

  Cedar growled behind Gray. “Why has Olaf turned on us?”

  “Everyone has a price.” The woman’s lips tightened. “Now move and nobody gets hurt.”

  Gray took another step back, his fingers curling around a fake inhaler he’d packed earlier.

  Jerrica’s abductor inched into the hallway, one hand gripping the gun at Jerrica’s head, the other arm wrapped around Jerrica’s waist to keep her upright.

  Jerrica’s lashes fluttered, and she formed an O with her lips as if trying to speak. Thank God she was alive—and Gray had to keep her that way.

  The woman began to half-drag, half-carry Jerrica in the other direction, to what must be a back exit.

  “Wait!” Gray pulled the inhaler from his pocket. “Jerrica has asthma. She’s going to need her inhaler if you want her to live through this. That’s what Olaf wants, isn’t it? He wants Jerrica to live and if she doesn’t, he might stop cooperating with you.”

  The woman’s eyes darted from Cedar, well behind Gray, back to Gray’s face. She adjusted Jerrica’s body so that it leaned against her own, and then stretched out her left hand. “Put it in my palm. If you grab me or try anything, she’s dead.”

  Gray doubted this woman had authority to shoot to kill, but his hand trembled slightly as he extended his hand holding the fake inhaler. As he leaned in closer, he signaled Cedar behind him to get ready.

  The woman ducked her head, and Gray tipped up the inhaler and depressed the button on the bottom of the container, releasing tear gas into the woman’s face.

  He kept his gaze pinned to the gun in her hand and as she gasped and stumbled back, the gun slipped down from Jerrica’s head.

  Holding his breath, Gray swung his arm, knocking the gun up to the ceiling.

  Cedar dropped to the floor and scrambled toward the woman’s legs, throwing himself at her knees.

  Her body buckled and she squeezed off a shot.

  Panic coursed through Gray’s body as Jerrica slumped, but when plaster rained down on them, he grabbed her ragdoll-like form and tossed her over one shoulder.

  “We can get out the back. You okay?”

  His eyes watering, Cedar choked out some response but he kept low and crawled past the flailing woman, now hugging the wall and gasping for breath.

  Gray turned left and ran toward the exit sign down the dark hallway, Jerrica’s body bouncing on his shoulder.

  Cedar reached the door before he did and shoved it open. Cedar staggered into the alley, gulping breaths of air.

  A car idling in the darkness shot forward and squealed from the alley.

  “There goes the getaway car.” Gray pointed to a dumpster. “Behind here for a minute.”

  They took refuge behind a dumpster, and Gray thumped a coughing Cedar on the back. “Can you breathe?”

  “Barely. How’s Jerrica?”

  “Conscious but out of it. I don’t think the gas affected her that much because she wasn’t taking deep breaths to begin with.” He thumbed up one of her eyelids. “I can see it affected her eyes, though. We need to get out of here before the police show up. At least the lady had a silencer on her gun, so the shot isn’t going to cause immediate panic but someone will discover her soon. I don’t know what management is going to make of that scene in the hallway, but I don’t want to try to explain it.”

  “That bitch was no lady.” Cedar wiped his own eyes with the hem of his T-shirt. “You can’t very well stagger through the Lower East Side with a woman over your shoulder without drawing attention to yourself.”

  “She can walk. Like you said. She’s tipsy. Had a little too much to drink.” He pointed to the end of the alley. “Go hail a taxi like only a New Yorker can. I’ll get Jerrica in a position to walk her out to the street and the cab.”

  Cedar took off in a sprint. The kid had guts.

  Gray slid Jerrica off his body and patted her face. “Jerrica, can you hear me? Can you walk? You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

  She moaned and shook her head.

  “I know.” He steadied her on her feet. Hanging his arm around her shoulders, he propped her up against his side. “Just move your feet, hacker girl. You got this.”

  He walked and she stumbled beside him, but she was upright.

  When he got to the street, his estimation of Cedar rose again. A taxi waited at the curb, its back door flung open.

  Gray poured Jerrica onto the bench seat and gave the driver the name of his hotel while sliding in after her.

  Cedar stepped back from the curb. “I can see she’s gonna be okay with you.”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Gray made a grab for Cedar’s arm, but the hacker slipped from his grasp. “You’re going to tell us everything you know.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20