The bullet from the silenced gun cut through the air and the pounding in Jerrica’s eardrums. Was it aimed at her? At Gray? God, not the boy. She dug her nails into the dirt beneath the bench where she’d taken cover.
As the gunman pushed the little boy and he fell to his knees, Jerrica opened her mouth in a silent scream. She scrambled forward on her belly to reach the boy, who popped up crying but unscathed and ran to his mother’s outstretched arms.
Jerrica collapsed. Thank God the boy hadn’t been harmed.
“Jerrica, are you hit?” Gray’s voice invaded the fog encompassing her head, and she reached out a hand.
“I’m okay. He didn’t shoot that child.” If she’d had to bear witness to another child dying from a gunshot wound, it would’ve been almost impossible for her to get to her feet.
Crouching beside her, Gray put his arm around her waist and helped her up. “Kiera wasn’t so lucky.”
As her boots hit the ground, Jerrica’s legs gave way beneath her and she grabbed Gray’s arm. She didn’t need to, as he’d kept a firm, steadying hold on her.
She peeked over his shoulder at Kiera splayed in the dirt, her braids fanning out around her head as a pool of blood inched its way to the ends of the arc they created.
She turned her face into Gray’s shoulder and mumbled against the rough denim of his jacket. “Oh my God. Why?”
“I guess he figured if he couldn’t shoot one Dreadworm hacker, he’d shoot another.”
“But Kiera had nothing to do with the compromised database.” She tugged on his sleeve. “Police.”
Gray stroked bits of debris from the hair hanging below her cap. “We don’t know anything. We don’t know Kiera. We were here taking a stroll.”
“What if someone saw you pull out your weapon?” She patted the gun Gray had crammed back into his pocket.
“I doubt anyone noticed, but if someone did, I have a concealed-carry permit. I saw the man had a gun, and I was going to try to take him down. Best to stick with the truth as much as possible.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Why didn’t I what?” Gray nodded at the cop headed their way.
“Take him down.”
“He’d grabbed the boy by the time I could take aim. I’m a pretty good shot, but I’m not going to risk a child’s life. You were safe, I had cover and I never thought he’d turn on Kiera.”
“Why did he shoot her?”
“Shh.” Gray hissed in her ear at the officer’s approach.
“You folks witness what happened here?”
After introducing himself to the officer, Gray kept his story brief and to the point. Nobody must’ve noticed his gun because the officer didn’t question him about it, and he didn’t offer it up.
“Ma’am, what did you see?”
“Not much of anything.” Jerrica swept the cap from her head and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “I saw that the transient had a gun, and my...boyfriend saw it, too. He warned me to take cover, and I did. I had my eyes on the child the man grabbed, so I didn’t even realize he’d shot the woman. Is she...?”
“Yes, she’s deceased.” The cop tapped his pencil against his notebook. “Did he seem to be targeting her? Others said he was walking in the direction of this bench.”
Gray cleared his throat. “I’m not sure he was targeting anyone. He pulled out his weapon, the people who noticed it screamed and started running out of the park or taking cover. He shot the woman. Then he took off.”
“Can you give me a description?”
Jerrica held up her hands. “I can’t. I didn’t get a good look at him.”
“I can help with that.”
Gray proceeded to give the officer a description of the transient, and both he and Jerrica gave him their names and phone numbers.
“Thanks. We’ll be in touch if we need more information, and call us if you remember anything else.” The cop tucked his notebook into his pocket, pivoted and then stopped. “It’s weird though. You wouldn’t think a homeless guy would have a gun with a silencer attached.”
“That is strange.” Gray draped his arm around Jerrica’s shoulders. “Can we leave now?”
“Sure, and thank you for your service, Lieutenant Prescott.”
“Thank you for yours.”
Gray entwined his fingers with Jerrica’s and tugged. They left the park, and she didn’t even give a parting glance to Kiera’s dead body on the ground.
They kept silent for two long blocks, putting as much space as possible between themselves and the park.
Gray pointed ahead to a street glowing with welcoming lights. “Let’s get something to eat.”
“Should we tell Amit what happened?”
“He doesn’t have a phone and even if he did, I’m not sure I trust your device.”
“You have your phone. I’ll communicate with him through the message board.” She stopped in front of a bistro and grabbed the door handle. “Here.”
Gray reached above her and pushed open the door. The whoosh of noise and warmth and savory smells cast an immediate spell on Jerrica, luring her inside the buzzing scene.
She closed her eyes. The longing for normality hit her like a sledgehammer. Why now? With everything in her life coming to a head, she sensed an explosion in her future—and she didn’t mean the kind the terrorists had planned.
“Two?” The hostess appeared before them, and Gray nodded.
“We’ll take the bar if we have to.”
“We just cleared a table by the kitchen.” The hostess tried to keep her gaze from wandering over Gray’s body but failed.
Jerrica couldn’t blame her, but she didn’t have to like it. She stepped between the hostess and her view. “That’s fine.”
The hostess eked out a tight smile and spun around, crooking her finger. “Follow me.”
Gray rested a hand on Jerrica’s hip and leaned close. “It’s crowded in here.”
“A good spot in case we were followed, don’t you think?”
“We weren’t followed.” He dug his fingertips into the swell of her hip. “I made sure of that.”
The hostess seated them, and Gray slid one of the menus she’d left toward Jerrica. “Please tell me there’s something more than veggie stuff here.”
“This isn’t a vegetarian place. I think they even have—” she whispered “—burgers.”
Jerrica grabbed the edge of the menu to flip it open with a hand that still trembled.
Gray didn’t miss a thing. He covered her fingers with his own. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Still shaken. If you hadn’t warned me to take a dive, I’d be as dead as Kiera—unless he killed her because he couldn’t kill me.” She finally opened the menu and stared at the words blurring in front of her.
“I think he always intended to kill Kiera.”
“You think he made her, too, and intercepted our communication?”
A busboy set two glasses of water down. As soon as he left, Gray reached across the table again.
“Jerrica.” Gray placed his hands flat across her menu. “I think Kiera’s the one who gave you up. She tried to set you up for him. He must’ve had something on her.”
“No.” She took a gulp of water and put down the glass harder than she’d intended. “Why would she do that?”
“Being in military intelligence, I can think of several reasons why.” He held up his hand and ticked off his fingers. “Someone threatened her, threatened her family, had something on her for blackmail, paid her off. The reasons are endless.”
They ended their conversation again as the waiter approached. Gray ordered a burger and fries and she ordered a veggie burger, although she had little appetite for anything now.
She dug her elbows into the table and buried her chin in her palm. “I can’t believe she’d do that.”
“Why? You didn’t know her. You’d never even seen her before tonight.”
“Because she’s Dreadworm. Olaf vetted us all thoroughly.”
“Even the great Olaf can make mistakes.” Gray rolled his eyes.
“I suppose, but that puts him in danger, too.”
“The next question is, who outed Kiera?” Gray steepled his fingers and peered at her over the apex. “Where did it all start? If Kiera had to tell them about you and Amit, who told them about her? Who’s her coworker? Cedar?”
“Yeah, Cedar.”
Gray raised his eyebrows and his lips quirked into a grin.
“Cedar grew up on a commune. You don’t want to know his brothers’ names.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” Gray traced the edge of his water glass. “You seem to know more about him than Kiera.”
“About the same. Kiera’s father was one of the founding members of the Black Panthers. She has a son who attends Columbia.” She sniffled and swirled the ice in her glass before taking a sip. “I know a few salient facts about them.”
“The facts that make them ripe for working at Dreadworm.”
“I suppose you could say that. What’s your point?”
“My point is that Olaf chose wisely. He must’ve recruited most of you. It’s not like you went on an internet job board.”
“Food’s here.” She wanted to cut off this conversation about Olaf and how she knew him. She poked at her burger. “Mustard, please.”
The waiter answered, “Absolutely. Anything else?”
“Actually, I’d like a beer. Jerrica? I think we both could use one.”
“Sure. Make it two, and I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
Gray made a selection from the beer menu and then doused his fries with ketchup. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to drink to the point where I can’t get us back to your place safely.”
“I know that.” She held her hand out over the table and it was mostly steady. “I’m almost calm.”
“How do we reach Cedar?”
“Ugh, I knew that was going to be your next question.” She thanked the waiter for the mustard and squirted some on her bun. “We have our own message board with another TV show.”
“Then it’s time we either warn him or kill him.”
Jerrica flicked a napkin in his face.
“I’m just kidding—sort of. For all we know, he could be dead already.”
“Okay, just stop.” She pointed a knife at him. “I sent out the SOS to Cedar, too, but he didn’t respond.”
“Even if he does, you’re not going to any more secret meetings. Communicate with him via the message board, and that’s it.” He picked up a fry and waved it at her. “I’m not allowing you to be an easy target again.”
“Once Cedar sees the news and learns Kiera is dead, he’s either going to contact me or he’s going to run.”
The waiter placed their beers in front of them. Gray finished chewing his french fry and then took a long pull from his mug.
“I needed that.” He clinked his glass with hers. “Here’s to finding out who’s exposing Dreadworm...and why.”
“And why.” Jerrica took a sip of beer through the thick head of foam and closed her eyes as the alcohol sent warm, soothing waves to her frazzled nerve endings.
Gray interrupted her happy place. “I think we know the why. They know Dreadworm has compromised their clandestine database, and they want to keep you out before you can discover anything of substance...or turn it over to someone who can.”
“I know.” Jerrica opened her eyes and nibbled at the edge of her veggie burger, her appetite still lying in the dirt with Kiera’s body. “But that’s Amit and I. Kiera and Cedar have no knowledge of this database. Why go after them?”
“To get to you. If Amit didn’t rat you out, and it doesn’t sound like he did, and you didn’t give him up, how did these people know where to find the two of you? How’d they know to pick up Amit’s trail at that party? How’d they find out where you live? Kiera led one of them straight to you. They got to her somehow, turned her somehow—and killed her when she’d served her purpose.”
Jerrica dropped her burger. “This time he was willing to kill me. What changed? The first attempt on Amit and me was abduction. That guy with the gun in the park looked intent on murder...not kidnapping.”
“We don’t know what he would’ve done. Maybe he squeezed off the shot to wound you and would’ve taken you captive after that. Kiera he had no use for.”
“If Amit and I are dead, our programs die with us and we won’t have the opportunity to send anything to Olaf.”
Gray glanced up sharply from his plate. “Is that what you intend to do? Send this info to Olaf?”
“W-we always do.”
“Have you told him about this, yet?”
“How could we?” Jerrica wrapped her hands around the mug, sweating beads of moisture. “We didn’t really know what we had until you showed up with the code.”
“You knew you had a black ops database inside the government.”
“I knew that, and I communicated it to Olaf. Whether or not Amit did the same, I’m not sure.”
Gray swiped a napkin across the lower half of his face. “Dreadworm really is a case of the right hand not knowing what the left is doing.”
“Olaf designed it that way. It cuts down on the type of situation we find ourselves in now. I was surprised that Olaf even told us about each other and that Amit and I work in the same office.” Jerrica traced a finger around the base of her mug. “Look at us now.”
“Strange.”
“We have to get back to Amit. I have to tell him what happened. If he’s watching TV or going through news sites online, he may already know. He’s going to be worried.”
“You barely touched your dinner.”
She poked at her burger on the plate. “I suppose I can take it home, and Amit can have the uneaten half.”
“Get the waiter over here while I finish my food—and my beer.” Gray dug into his burger while she waved at the server.
“Can I get this to go, please, and the check?”
“Sure. Anything else?”
Jerrica shook her head. “Not unless you have an armored car.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just the check, thanks.”
Gray studied her over his mug. “Let’s take a taxi back. We can get dropped off around the corner and come through the other building.”
“I guess we can do that. It’ll be safer.”
Gray polished off the last of his fries by dragging them through the puddle of ketchup on his plate and popping them in his mouth. “With your money, you could hire a car and a bodyguard.”
“I could hire a car and a driver, but I already have my bodyguard.” She grabbed his wrist. “I never said thank you for saving my life.”
“I didn’t do much. I was too slow. I should’ve shot him.”
“For all my security measures and heightened senses, I didn’t even notice the guy coming at me. I didn’t see the gun until you yelled—saving my life.” She squeezed his arm. “Can you imagine the mess if you’d shot him? The police? The questions?”
“I would’ve been within my rights. He had a gun out.” Gray crumpled his napkin and tossed it onto the table. “I could’ve taken out the bastard. Sent a message.”
“It didn’t work out that way, but we’re both safe.” She put her hands together as if in prayer and pressed the tips of her fingers against her lips to stifle the sob bubbling from her throat. “Kiera. Her son.”
“These people are out of control, Jerrica. Scares the hell out of me. They’re desperate.”
“And that’s just how we want them. They know we’re in the database. Imagine how they’d react if they knew we had the first part of the code to decipher their gibberish.”
He hunched his shoulders. “I hope they never find that out. As long as they think you’re scrabbling around with meaningless words, maybe this group, whatever and whoever it is, won’t bring their full forces down on you—because those forces must be awful if they can set up a man like Denver and keep dismissing all evidence that would exonerate him.”
“Okay, now you’ve really ruined my evening. Let’s head back to my place and check on Amit.”
After settling the check, they stepped onto the street and walked a half a block before grabbing a taxi. Gray sat sideways the entire ride back to her neighborhood to keep an eye out the rear window. Occasionally, he’d tell the puzzled driver to take a quick right or left.
When the taxi pulled up to the curb around the block from her apartment building, Gray leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Didn’t notice anyone following us.”
He paid the driver, and they turned down the alley that led to the building next to hers.
By default, Jerrica stuck close to the wall and the shadows, and Gray gravitated toward her, matching her step for stealthy step. Even with Gray’s solid presence beside her, the cold that had seeped under her skin, and had receded only with the beer and the company, crept back, needling her flesh.
Gray curled an arm around her waist, fitting her against his body, as if sensing her unease. Or maybe he felt it, too.
“Do we need a key for this door?”
“Not this one. Remember, it leads to the stairwell and the two doors—one leading to each building.” She dragged her keychain from her pocket. “I do have a key for that door.”
Gray reached around her and pushed down on the handle. The squeak it made had her grinding her back teeth. He eased open the door wide enough to accommodate his bulky frame but no more.
She tripped in ahead of him, pinching the key in her fingers. She waited until Gray pulled the door closed behind them, then pivoted to the door that led to her building’s basement.
The yellow light from the bare bulb above them cast a weak glow over the metal door. Suddenly Jerrica gasped and threw out her hands in front of her. The icy prickles she’d felt in the alley stabbed the back of her neck as she stretched out her fingers to trace over the chalk letters scribbled on the door to her building.
In a voice that quavered just a little, she read aloud, “It’s Olaf.”