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I’ve checked the tracker information every day for the last five days, since Friday when I let Davey know it was done, and today it has stopped transmitting. I’m guessing it’s damaged rather than discovered, because the guys in the safe house Davey is now watching haven’t moved. But today, five days later, it has finally come up trumps.
I stare at the notification on my phone with conflicting emotions running riot through my head and chest.
Eyes on. Target confirmed.
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De Luca has finally put his head above the parapet. That means he’s close by. Too close for comfort. But at least now we know where. And Davey can tail him. We can prove he exists. Gary can serve the divorce papers, and we can all get on with our lives.
Yes. This is a good day. This is a step in the right direction. I push back from my desk with a mind to celebrate. As I’m strolling for the door, my mobile vibrates in my pocket. ‘Craig Peters -IT’ is displayed on the illuminated screen.
“Craig,” I answer brightly.
“Hey, Will,” he says wearily. He sounds exhausted. “We’re there. Our systems are coming back online. It’s going to be rolled out over the next twenty-four hours so that we can track and trace any second attempts to get in.”
“So? How did they get in in the first place?”
“That, I’m afraid I don’t know. Not exactly. But I suspect that this was a specifically targeted cyber-attack because of the people involved: This guy was only interested in senior staff at the hotels, although he could have accessed every staff member’s personal details with the malware we found. It seemed to be about destruction, where possible, and disruption, where it wasn’t.” I hear him swig a drink. “But Cactus is a different story. He’s systematically trawled through all emails and case files. I can tell because it leaves a digital fingerprint. And he’s accessed one file much more than the others.”
“DeLuca/Adams?” I guess.
“Yes... how did you...?”
“Thanks, Craig. Keep me updated.”
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So, this is about me. Personally. Davey was right. Jacob Stone wants to destroy me? Well, he’s going to have to try much harder than that. The more worrying aspect is that he’s taken an interest in Eva. Why? What does he hope to accomplish?
He wants to ruin you.
My breath catches as I realise what that means. He’ll tell her who I am. Or try to. He’ll try to ruin us.
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I call Craig back, my brain rewiring for defence. “Can you reverse it?”
“Sorry...?”
“Can you lift the malware, or copy it to track another computer?”
“Well...”
“I need to know what he knows about Eva Adams and if he’s contacted her.”
“I suppose I could... copy the code and add it to her email auto-response. That way, if he contacts her, it will automatically infect his computer and we’ll have access to his machine. But it’ll infect all of her other contacts too. Theoretically.”
“What do you need to put your theory to the test?”
“Direct access to her computer would be the quickest way...”
“When can you be here?”
“Um... in about an hour?”
“Great. Thank you. See you then.”
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Hope is blooming again in my chest as I take the stairs two at a time to arrange the next phase. I need to draw him out. Let’s see how good he is. How often he’s watching. Which means Eva and I are going out tonight. So I need our girls taken care of.
When I push open the front door to our suite, I can hear that the girls are playing in Mae’s room and Mary is in the kitchen. Smells like macaroni cheese.
“Hey, Mary.” I smile as she turns a bit to face me.
“Hello, pet,” she says, stirring a small saucepan of white gloop.
“I wanted to ask you... is it possible to keep the girls a bit longer this evening?”
“Of course. I do need to pop back to the house. I’ve the gas man coming.” She flicks me a look. “I could have them overnight...?”
“Ahh. Well, I don’t know how Eva would feel about that...” Her face drops and she turns back to the pan. “But I’ll talk to her about it. For another time?”
“Okay, pet.” She draws a big breath. “We’ll have a great ol’ time. We can make cupcakes and playdough. I’ll have them back here for bedtime.”
“Thank you. We appreciate it.”
“Not a bother. Where are you two lovebirds off to?”
“It’s that time of year. I get to visit Hamleys and not look like a weirdo.” Mary laughs breathlessly.
“You’re going to feed that poor girl though, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. What kind of man do you take me for?” I huff in mock affronted tones.
“She hardley eats, that one.”
“Hmm.” I can’t stop the smile from crawling over my face and turn to leave before Mary sees it.
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I poke my head around Mae’s bedroom door and two little pairs of eyes look up immediately.
“Daddy!”
“Hello, angels. Miss me?” Mae nods vigourously, before running at me and colliding with Summer, who’s running my way and smiling and giggling too.
“What are you playing?”
“Gweatest Showman. You want to pway?” Summer asks hopefully.
“I’d love to. But you two are going to Mary’s after dinner and I’m taking Mummy out, so I can’t have a great big clown smile.”
“We’re pwactising for my birthday party,” Mae informs me.
“Do you need to practise? You know the film word for word.”
“Yep.” Both girls are adamant.
“All my fwends are coming,” Mae says as though that’s a surprise.
“Of course they are. I bet they can’t wait for your super-duper Greatest Showman Circus School birthday party. It’s going to be epic. Now. You two be good for Mary and we’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yep!”
I tap both of my cheeks with my index fingers and bend down to almost-four-year-old level for two tiny, giggly kisses. I wink as I straighten and stride out again, pulling the door behind me.
“Will?” Mary calls.
“Yes?”
“Stefan’s on the phone.” Mary holds her hand over the mouthpiece of the landline. “He said there’s a man here to see you. Craig?”
“Great. Can you ask Stefan to put him in my office with a coffee? And food, if he wants it?”
Mary nods and imparts my instructions over the phone while I head for the front door and for Eva.
She’s there, exactly where she always is, sitting at her table in the coffee bar. “Get your coat, gorgeous. You’ve pulled.” I grin as I bound her way. She gives me a look I’m sure every fifteen-year-old boy knows well. “I’m taking you out.” And I’m not accepting any excuses. Especially ‘I’m working.’ It’s nearly six.
I smile when she gives up arguing with me about it and kisses me instead. I watch her jog up the stairs for her jacket, her laptop in my hand.
I hurry along the corridor to my office, where Craig is waiting. “Hi,” I greet him as I rush in the door and round my desk.
“Hi.” He flicks a look at the laptop in my hands.
“Does she know...?” He jerks his head towards the object in question.
“No.”
“Ah.” He nods, sipping his coffee. “Who is she?”
“My girlfriend.” He splutters, dribbling the dark liquid down his chin. “It’s a long story,” I mutter as I tap in Summer’s date of birth and hold my breath. The screen pings to life. Thank you! I glance up at him.
“Can you send me a copy of anything you find of interest, please? Particularly from Jacob Stone or his connections.” He nods, probably without thinking. His eyes are wide. So wide that I know he’s read the file. Seen the photos.
“Great. You can stay in here. I’m taking her out. We’ll be gone for a good few hours. Just leave it here when you’re done. And I’ll get her phone to you. I need it cloned. Thanks.”
And I rush back out again to the coffee bar without waiting for questions.
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“Ready, baby?” I smile as I watch Eva descend the stairs. I’ve never been so happy to go birthday shopping for my daughter. And I’ve never done it with someone else.
“As I’ll ever be.” She smirks ruefully as she threads her arm through mine. Is it wrong that I’m excited to go to Hamleys again? I’m a lot less excited by the prospect of telling Eva that I broke her phone, but I can buy her a new one whilst we’re out.
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When we stroll in to the little French bistro, my fingers tighten on Eva’s. She glances up at me and gives me a quick smile. I pull her closer, my arms circle her body, and I kiss her head as we wait to be seated. I didn’t notice anyone following us, but it’s difficult to argue with your girl so vehemently, whilst also appreciating her wild side, about something so trivial as a broken phone. That I broke. That I should replace. That I need to have back in my possession. And concentrate on who might be watching at the same time.
In truth, a lot of people were watching. And she wouldn’t back down a single inch. I’m still wondering why. Why is she so stubbornly independent? I’m guessing it has to do with De Luca, but I can’t be certain. A smile threatens my lips, and I cough back a laugh directed at my own brain: Her wild streak leaves no room to doubt she’s your girl. She wouldn’t have argued like that if you were a fling. She’d have left you standing.
When the waiter comes over, he does a double take. Then he glances at my less-than-impressed face, and a flush stains his cheeks a deep red.
“Table for two?” he squeaks.
As the waiter places our starters in front of us a little while later, a man enters the brasserie. He scans the room, stopping for a fraction of a second too long when he sees us, before he looks away.
I keep my eyes on Eva, my attention half on the easy, teasing conversation and half on him as we eat. He asks to be seated at the table alongside ours, one row over, closer to the bar than the window.
I can still feel him watching. I finish my drink and kiss the back of her hand. “I needed that. You want another?” I nod at her half-full glass.
“No, thanks,” she says. I push to my feet and kiss her hair on my way past, heading for the bar.
He shifts uneasily as I approach, but I don’t look directly at him as I walk around his table to the bar behind him and lean against it. I turn in his direction, my back against the counter, and he shuffles a phone under the menu. He’s not the guy from the picture Davey showed me. I notice he’s wearing a wedding ring when he shifts and fidgets again.
A married trapper? Now, there’s something you don’t see every day. There can’t be too many of those in the industry, which makes him as good as mine.
“Yes, sir?” the bartender asks. I turn around and give him my attention.
“Sparkling water, please. With ice.”
“Certainly. I’ll bring it over.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything for the lady?”
“No, thanks.” His eyes flick to Eva over my shoulder and he nods. I give him a hard look as his gaze flickers back to me. Fuck. Off. And I stalk to my seat. This time I look directly at the trapper as I sit. His eyes flit away fast.
I could push it. I could make him uncomfortable, but I want him to keep playing the game. So I don’t. I drop my eyes, take Eva’s hand across the table and smirk as she picks up her new phone when it rings. I know how I’m going to play it. And how I’m going to win. And I need the phone to do it.
I reach across the table and pluck the phone from her fingers when she answers, “Hey, Bells!” noting she hasn’t set a PIN yet.
“I’m sorry. Eva can’t come to the phone right now.” Bells giggles. “She’s being wined and dined in a blatant seduction by a very handsome man.”
“You like living dangerously, eh, Hunter?” Bells splutters.
“Don’t call back. She’ll be unavailable then too. If I’m lucky.” Bells cackles as I tap the screen to disconnect the phone. “What? It’s true,” I say when I glance up at Eva’s outraged face.
“Will! Give me the bloody phone!”
“Oh, God no. This is fun!”
“At least turn it off!” Oh, no, baby, no. It needs to be very much on. I shake my head and slip the phone into my pocket. Eva is furious, if the way she just stabbed at her coq au vin is anything to go by, but the trapper near the bar looks even less pleased with the situation. I continue with my own dinner, satisfied that we all know where we stand.
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Eva doesn’t even argue with me when I pull out my debit card to pay the bill. She just purses her lips and then bites them together.
“Let’s go shopping, Ms Adams.” I smile. She scowls. I stand and move around the table, intending to help her up, but she stands quickly. “You don’t want to argue over the bill?” I ask playfully.
“No. You owe me dinner.”
“Oh?” At last!
“It’s penance for being an annoying git.”
“I’ll endeavour to be increasingly annoying and I’ll get to spoil you more.”
“Don’t count on it,” she grumbles. But she doesn’t mean it. I’m learning that Eva has a soft spot for my ‘I’m sorry’ face. When I look at her with big, round eyes, she melts. Every time. Even in the middle of a brasserie.
She loves me.
I lead her outside by the hand in double time. “I’ll get you for that,” she grumbles as I back her up against the wall beside the window and kiss her senseless, giving him plenty of time for all the photos he wants.
“I look forward to it, baby.” I flash her a knee-knocker grin and bring her hand to my lips. She shakes her head, trying not to smile, and follows me in the direction of Regent Street and my annual pilgrimage to Hamleys.