CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Three weeks.

Twenty-one days had passed since they had first learned of Alicia Walker’s death. Alan and Taylor had fielded nine calls from Sam Morel telling them that neither the San Francisco police nor the FBI had anything new. Trying to dredge up Tony Stevens’s real identity had slowly drawn to a dead end. The Bureau had circulated his picture across the United States and to Interpol. No hits. There were no boats registered to a Tony Stevens anywhere in the Bahamas. DNA profiling had come up empty. Nothing on the cadaver’s fingerprints either. Tony Stevens was a John Doe.

The Canadian angle had died a slow death as well. Edward Brand may have injected Canadian expressions in his speech, but the man wasn’t on the Canadian radar. Hawkins and Abrams had linked up with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and ran searches through their extensive database. Not even the slightest glitch. The entire investigation was slowly grinding to a halt.

Taylor glanced up from her desk at the sound of a quiet knock on her door. Kelly Kramer was leaning against the door jamb. She jumped up, rounded the desk and gave him a hug. Both wore smiles.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as they sat on the couch against one of the walls without windows. Taylor’s corner office at Ad-dicted, her new employer, was spacious and tastefully furnished. Dry-mounted posters of previous ad campaigns hung on the walls, and soft music played through the ceiling-mounted speakers. Her view was north to the bay, where a gentle October mist trailed across the water.

“I missed you,” Kelly said, his handsome face still smiling. “Wanted to make sure they were treating you okay over here.”

She let her eyes drift around the room. “I don’t mind it as much as I thought I would. Nick’s got a great team in place. No wonder we were always fighting with him for the best clients. He runs Addicted much like G-cubed.” She grinned. “And he’s paying me very well. I’m already on track for a most generous bonus.”

“We miss you,” Kelly said. “Everyone at G-cubed misses you a lot.”

“How is it over there?” she asked, not really wanting him to answer.

“It’s good. Pretty much business as usual. The new owners were smart enough to realize they didn’t need to reinvent the wheel. The groups are intact, and we’ve managed to retain all our clients. But we’ve noticed your boss is spending time on the golf course with some of those clients.”

“Yeah, I noticed as well. But that’s business, Kelly. If the tables were reversed I’d be all over them.”

“I suppose.” There was a short silence, and he thoughtfully stroked his goatee. “I’m quitting.”

Taylor didn’t show surprise. “What are you going to do?”

“I figure it’s time to use that Master’s degree in Crime Investigation I spent five years getting. I threw my résumé out on the market and had three offers. Two in Washington and one in Dallas.”

“Washington? D.C. or state?”

“D.C.”

“You going to be a spy?” Taylor asked. Again the grin.

He returned the smile but shook his head. “Can’t talk about it. But it’s with the government.”

“Ooh, it’s true. I’m going to know a spy,” Taylor said.

“That’s a good line. If it helps to pick up women, I’ll go with it.” Kelly grinned. The last thing he needed was help picking up women.

“Be careful,” she said.

He nodded. “Anything new on what happened?”

She shook her head. “Sam Morel over at Central District still keeps Alan and me in the loop, but there’s not much new to report. We thought they had something a couple of times, but none of the leads worked out. One of them was kind of up your alley.”

“How’s that?”

“Sam managed to track down six of the computers NewPro used while their San Francisco office was up and running. He had some computer whiz scan the drives, and even though they’d been wiped clean, he still got some data off them. It pointed to Mexico, but the trail just dried up.”

“Where are the computers now?”

“The FBI had them for a week, but they had trouble even duplicating what Sam’s guy got off them. I think they sent the computers back to Sam’s office. Why?”

He shrugged. “I could take a look. You never know.”

“Sure. I’ll call Sam and see if he could arrange it. You don’t mind?”

“Mind?” He reached out and took her hand. “Taylor, there’s not a day goes by when I don’t think about what happened to you and Alan. If there’s any way I can help, I want to.”

“Okay. That’s really sweet of you.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ll call Sam.”

“Thanks.”

They slowly unhooked hands. “Have you made a decision on which offer you’ll take?”

“I have. Washington. It’s closer to Baltimore, actually.”

She smiled. “National Security Agency? Their main complex is somewhere between Baltimore and D.C.”

He didn’t nod or shake his head, just sat impassively. It confirmed her guess. “I’ve got to be going,” he said, standing. She stood, and they hugged again. “Call me when you get the okay on the computers from your cop buddy.”

“Will do,” she said.

Kelly rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. Taylor returned to her desk and dropped into her chair. She swiveled about and stared out over the bay. The view was stunning. She loved San Francisco and the eclectic intensity that made the city so different from anywhere else she had visited or lived. It pulsed with originality and energy. The good news was that she didn’t have to leave the city. They had found a rental not far from their current house, and although the monthly lease was steep, it allowed them to stay in the city itself and not have to venture into the surrounding communities. It was strange to think of renting after owning houses for so many years, but going that route allowed them to bank the proceeds from the sale and wait until they were in a position to buy something they really wanted, not just an interim house. Alan was at home packing up the last few things. The moving truck was coming tomorrow. Their possession date wasn’t for another two weeks, but the movers had given them a huge break on the price for moving on a Wednesday in the middle of the month rather than waiting until the end of October when they were swamped.

Things had gone well at G-cubed. The new owners had honored the company’s commitment to the children’s hospital, and she was seeing evidence of their work springing up all over the city. The billboards were designed to tug on the heartstrings, with pictures of small children with a parent and captions like, You give me strength. It was a brilliant twist, and it gave her some reassurance that she had sold her company to the right people. She turned away from the view and touched her mouse. The computer screen came back to life.

She returned to work, her mind split between the campaign she was overseeing and her personal situation. Her life had changed, and she had accepted the change. Maybe Kelly would find something on the computers, maybe not. She realized that she didn’t really care. The money was gone, and it was time to rebuild. Alan and she were solid, they had come through the ordeal even more committed to each other than before, when their lives were so predictable. That was what really mattered.

Her computer beeped, reminding her of an eleven o’clock meeting with her clients. She packed up the latest drawings for the print ads on product line and tucked them under her arm. Close the deal, make Nick Adams a half million dollars in fees. Collect her salary and go home.

God, how her life had changed.