Arden had always wondered if a person’s heart could actually stop from fear.
Now she knew.
It could.
Hers had.
It started again when a woman screamed, the high-pitched sound like a jolt of electricity to Arden’s flagging cardiac muscle. Arden jumped, her grip on Sebastian loosening. Sebastian yowled and twisted out of her arms.
Arden grabbed for him. Missed. Started after him as he rushed across the room.
“Sebastian!” she yelled, her heart pounding over the sound of other voices.
“Stop!” Kane commanded, and Sebastian did, plopping his furry body down on a pretty throw rug near the kitchen sink. Arden skidded to a standstill a couple of inches from Sebastian.
“What in the world,” a woman said, “is going on here?”
Arden whirled around, found herself three feet from an older couple. Flannel pajamas, bare feet, salt-and-pepper hair. They were a matched set. The man clutched a baseball bat. The woman held a huge tome that probably outweighed her by several pounds.
“Is that The Iliad?” Arden asked, and the woman glanced down at the book.
“Why, yes! It is,” she responded.
“Light reading before bed, Mom?” Kane asked, slipping his gun back into the holster beneath his coat.
“Mom?” Arden repeated, but no one seemed all that interested in responding.
“This was one of your grandfather’s books. It was the first thing I could find that could be used as a weapon.” The woman set the book down on the counter. “We were certain we were about to get murdered in our beds.”
“Except that we’re not in our beds, dear,” the man pointed out. He leaned the baseball bat against the wall and let it rest there. “We would have been murdered in the kitchen. It’s good to see you, son. It’s surprising, but good.”
“I’m as surprised as you are.” Kane ran a hand over his hair. “I thought you were overseas.”
“We flew back a few days ago,” the woman said, her gaze darting to Arden. “We got to our place and a pipe had burst. They’re fixing it and drying everything out, so we decided to stay here until the work was finished. You did say that we could use the cottage any time.”
“Right. I did.”
“So...” Arden cut into what seemed like an awfully awkward conversation. Shouldn’t they be hugging? Throwing themselves into each other’s arms and talking about how much they’d missed each other? “I guess these are your parents?”
“Julia and Henry Walker,” Kane said. “Mom and Dad, this is Arden DeMarco.”
“DeMarco...” Mr. Walker mused. “Why do I know that name?”
“Because my business partner is Jace DeMarco, Arden’s...”
“No, no. That’s not it,” Mrs. Walker interjected. “Remember, Henry? That paper we read on quantum computing?”
“Oh, that’s right! Superb work. Real cutting-edge stuff.” Mr. Walker smiled broadly. “Are you that Arden DeMarco?”
“Yes,” she admitted, surprised that they’d read any of her work. “It was part of my dissertation.”
“Your theory on error-correction algorithms was groundbreaking. Were you really able to use only four qubits?”
“To a point,” Arden answered. “Unfortunately, as you are probably aware, interference is still an issue, even with the use of trapped ion qubits with intense magnetic fields.”
“So true, yet the technology is promising,” Mrs. Walker added, smoothing her hair and smiling at her son. “Kane, we’re infringing on your time with your friend. Your father and I will pack our things and go to a hotel.”
“Why would we do that? This place is plenty big enough for all of us, and I want to talk to Arden about her research,” Mr. Walker said.
“As do I, but I think that Arden and Kane would prefer to talk to each other.”
“Statistically speaking, after traveling here together, they are probably both ready for a break from each other. Why, just yesterday, I read a study on couples. Genetics aside, we tend to be attracted to that which is both different and familiar.” Mr. Walker was off chasing rabbits, and Arden had a moment of clarity, a moment of absolute vivid truth—Kane’s parents? They were her flannel-clad, tome-carrying people.
“Wow,” she breathed, and Kane grinned. He took her elbow and led her through the kitchen and out into a cozy living room.
“I figured you’d like them,” he murmured, his lips so close to her ear that she could feel the warmth of his breath.
“I like you, too,” she responded, the words out before she could stop them. Her cheeks were suddenly hot. “What I mean—”
“Don’t ruin the moment,” he replied, smiling.
And she couldn’t make herself say what she’d been going to. Not while she was looking into his gold-flecked eyes, seeing the humor there.
“How far did you two travel today? Miles or kilometers is fine,” Mrs. Walker said.
“Longer than either of us planned to, Mrs. Walker,” Arden said. As much as she loved talking shop and chasing intellectual rabbits, she was more interested in decrypting files, finding her answers and shutting down GeoArray. “I’m exhausted,” she added. Just in case the older woman hadn’t gotten the hint.
“Call me Jules. And my husband answers to Henry. Your father and I are in the room at the top of the stairs, Kane. That leaves the blue room and the yellow.”
“Let’s give Arden the yellow,” Kane said.
“It is the larger of the two.” Henry stepped into the room, Arden’s backpack over his shoulders, Sebastian cradled in his arms. “My son has always been a gentleman. Is that one of the things that attracted you to him?”
“We’re not—”
“Henry! What a thing to ask!”
“It’s a valid question, honey. Remember that piece we read two months ago?” Henry started upstairs, continuing on about the article as he went. Jules followed, the two of them batting around statistics.
Henry disappeared into a room down a wide hallway and reappeared at the top of the stairs seconds later without Sebastian or the backpack. “Do you need me to grab luggage from your car?” he asked.
Kane shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Then I’ll head to bed. You know how I’ve always been. Early to bed and early to rise. Statistically speaking, people who live by that pattern have longer, healthier lives.” Henry offered them a quick smile and went into his room.
“I really need to turn in, too,” Jules said. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall, Arden. Linen closet is stocked with toiletries if you forgot anything.”
She’d forgotten everything.
She couldn’t tell Jules that, so she just nodded and smiled and said good-night. She followed Kane up the stairs, past the Walkers’ bedroom door to her own room. The room was large, with a full-size bed, dresser, single nightstand and one window facing the front of the house.
It was definitely called the yellow room for a reason. Pale yellow walls and white bedding with yellow and orange flowers and throw pillows screamed of an era long gone. A yellow area rug under the bed covered most of the scratched wood floor.
She sat on the bed. “The room’s been aptly named.”
Kane stood at the threshold of the room, watching as she pulled her laptop from the backpack that Henry had left on the bed.
“It lacks a yellow brick road, but I hope it will do.”
She laughed. “Well, there’s no place like home, but this does have a homey feel.”
He smiled. “My parents being here complicates things.”
“Should we leave?”
“We’re both running on fumes, so it’s best if we stay, at least for the night. Hopefully, they won’t call the neighbors to brag about their houseguest and her dissertation work.”
She laughed and flicked on her computer. Her mind was already sprinting ahead, working through the files. She wouldn’t work yet, though.
Kane was correct—his parents being in the house added a whole new dimension to the problem. She definitely did not want them pulled into the mess she was in. There was no time to convince Kane to let her walk away. But this cottage just might offer her an unexpected chance to give Kane the slip. She’d let him think she was working, let him get settled in. Once he was asleep, she’d take Sebastian and go.
It was safer for everyone that way.
“You laugh, but the guy who lives at the end of the street is an astrophysicist. He’d love to meet you, and my parents would love to be the ones to make the introduction.”
“I’m sure they mean well.”
“They do, but we need to be as unobtrusive as possible.”
“You do realize they think we’re dating, don’t you?” Arden asked.
“Yes. There’s no sense arguing with them. They hear what they want to hear, especially at two in the morning.” Kane gave her an easy smile and leaned against the doorframe.
Tall and muscular, he exuded confidence, affability and strength. They were a winning combination, and if she let herself, she could imagine seeing him at her family’s Christmas celebration again this year. Instead of pretending to hang on every word Randy spoke, she’d be doing her own thing, free to talk to whomever she wanted.
“You’re staring,” he said. His hair was just long enough to curl at his nape, his eyes a light brown that looked almost gold in the soft yellow light.
“Sorry. I was zoning out.” And being an idiot. Kane probably dated models and actresses and NFL cheerleaders. Not geeky computer experts.
“It’s been a long day. A little zoning out is to be expected.”
“A long couple of weeks,” she admitted.
“Things will get easier from here. My associate, Silas Blackwater, can help us with GeoArray. I’ve already asked him to handle the plane.”
“Teamwork is great, but this part—” she tapped her computer keyboard “—is something only I can do.”
“Why you?” he asked, and she realized she’d said too much.
“I’ve been doing this for years,” she hedged. She focused on the still-blank screen and pretended to type.
“You obviously aren’t working, Arden. And you obviously aren’t telling the truth.”
“I have been doing this for years.”
“Lots of people work in computer forensics. Lots of people know how to decrypt files. If you turned the files over to the FBI, they could put a team of people on it. It seems like that might be more effective. What is it about this encryption that makes it so difficult?” He sounded angry. She couldn’t blame him. He’d risked his life for her, and she was withholding information from him.
His eyes never left hers as he waited for her response, the silence in the air heavy between them.
“It’s complicated,” she began, still hesitant to let him in.
“Try me.”
“Aside from the person who encrypted the files, there’s likely no one who can decrypt them as quickly as I’ll be able to.”
“Okay, I’ll take the bait—why?”
“Because I developed the base encryption code that’s wrapped around the files.” She saw the surprise register in his eyes. Wished she could stop his next question before he said it.
“How did your code end up around those files?”
There it was. She could either lie or let him in on what a sham her relationship with Randy had been. As mortifying as the truth was, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. Randy had used her. The facts were the facts. There was no use sugarcoating it. “Because when Randy and I worked at the university together, he had access to my research, stole my code, then passed it off as his own.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected.
“Does he work for GeoArray?”
“He’s apparently a consultant for them now. A very highly paid consultant.”
“Which probably means they’re willing to pay a hefty price to ensure the security of those files.”
“Exactly,” Arden agreed. “I think those files are somehow connected with GeoArray’s one-hundred-million-dollar contract to design and build a self-improving weapons command and control prototype.”
“Self-improving?”
“In the loose sense of the word, it means artificial intelligence or machine learning.”
“I thought that was mostly academic conjecture?”
“It has been, but inroads have been made lately. For instance, in credit card fraud recognition programs. The concepts are definitely becoming more mainstream.”
“So this application will do what?”
“Without getting my hands on the research, I can’t know for sure, but there are numerous possibilities. It could be programmed to learn if-then scenarios to have weapons change course after launch based on real-time data.”
“So that means a nuclear missile, for instance, could be made to abort or self-detonate?”
“Yes. It could even change targets on its own based on the programmed scenarios.”
“That could be catastrophic.”
“I agree—a system like that could turn one of our weapons against an ally or ourselves.”
“Do you think they may be close to completing the application?”
“The government picked up the contract’s option years last October without recompeting it—” she stifled a yawn “—so there’s a pretty good chance that’s the case.”
“You’re probably right.” Kane straightened. “But maybe you should think about getting some rest tonight. Start fresh in the morning. You might have better results.”
“I won’t work too long. I just want to try something I’ve been thinking about,” she said.
He started to leave, but turned back. “Remember, we’re in this together now. You worry about decrypting those files and I’ll take care of everything else.”
“Got it,” she said to his back as he closed the bedroom door behind him. Kane said all the right things, but she knew what she had to do. In the long run, everyone would be safer once she dropped off the grid again.
* * *
She was going to try to leave.
There was absolutely no doubt in Kane’s mind about that.
He was going to stop her. There was no doubt about that, either. Whether or not she’d still like him when it was over? That was something that remained to be seen.
He jogged downstairs, grabbing the keys to the garage from the hook near the front door. His grandfather had made a habit of putting the keys there to help his grandmother. She’d always been forgetful, but things had been worse during the last decade of her life.
I can’t have my best friend feeling bad about forgetting, so let’s make it easier for her to remember.
Kane could almost hear his grandfather’s words ringing through the quiet house. They’d been a team, putting up the key hooks, purchasing a high-tech oven that turned itself off if left on for too long.
He’d not thought much of it then, but looking back on it he could see that those times with his grandparents had shaped the man he would become. It was fact that he’d spent the first seventeen years of his life running after acceptance and popularity and fun. But that summer before his senior year had changed all that.
It had been a typical Friday night. Evan was stuck watching his siblings while his mom worked a second job. Kane insisted a party would be a good idea. By the time they’d found Lexi in the pool, it was too late.
That decision haunted him. Now he chased after things that had meaning and eternal value. But Kane had long ago resigned himself to the fact that he’d likely never find that one person who would fill his heart with joy.
I like you, Kane, Arden had said. For some reason, that meant more to him than any compliment he’d ever received from any woman he’d ever dated.
Maybe because she’d said it without any desire for reciprocation. She hadn’t asked for a response. She hadn’t seemed to even want one. She’d simply been stating another one of her facts.
He frowned, stepping outside and letting the cold, crisp air fill his lungs. He could smell the ocean in it, the briny water and moist air. He’d always loved this place. Even tainted by the memories of what he’d done, it felt more like home than any other place ever had.
He crossed the yard and unlocked the two-bay garage. His parents’ car was on the left. The right bay was empty, his grandparents’ old Chrysler long gone. He pulled the truck into place, then took out his cell phone and tried to reach Silas again.
This time Silas picked up.
“Silas, we’ve got a problem.” Kane explained Arden’s theory as succinctly as he could. If what Arden believed was true, keeping her safe while she decrypted the files had become more than just a personal mission. It was a matter of national security. As was his way, Silas listened without commenting, until Kane was through.
After they discussed their next move, Kane hung up, satisfied backup was on its way. He’d have called Grayson, but that was too dangerous. He couldn’t risk his call being intercepted by the Feds. He’d promised Arden the time she needed to decrypt those files.
He tucked the phone into his pocket, got out of the truck and closed the garage door.
One less thing to worry about.
A few dozen more to take care of.
Like his parents.
He glanced up at the cottage, eyeing the window of their room. No light, and he assumed they’d done what they’d said they would and gone to bed.
Tomorrow morning would be soon enough to ask them to keep quiet about his “girlfriend.” Hopefully, they’d cooperate.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t ask a million questions.
He didn’t want to lie, but there was no way he could tell them the truth without endangering them.
He did a perimeter check of the property, the velvety silence of the early morning enveloping him. No sign of movement on the street in front of the house. Nothing to the rear. No lights. No vehicles. There was no reason to believe they’d been found, and every reason to believe they would be eventually.
Their time was limited by that, and by whatever was in those files.
He reached the area of the cottage beneath Arden’s window. She’d turned off her light. Maybe she thought that he’d assume she was asleep. Maybe she just hoped it.
No sense making her wait too long to try her escape.
He went back inside and walked up the steps loudly enough for her to hear. Opened and closed the door to his room with just enough force to be convincing.
Once the sounds settled into quiet, he walked back downstairs, avoiding the creaky tread on the third and fifth steps, the groaning floorboard near the kitchen. He pulled a chair away from the table where he’d once eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner with his grandparents and sat, waiting for Arden to make her move.