Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Gus’s fleece worked for her.
She got the first of the surprised looks as she hit the foyer and passed the pair of guards who were stationed by the front entrance. She ignored them. The next set of double takes came as she entered the kitchen, but Chef recovered quickly and barked an order to his second-in-command to get back to work.
“How many tonight, boss?” Chef asked.
“I don’t know. Could be five. Could be a dozen.”
“Good thing I planned for a buffet. Time?”
“Thirty minutes from now.”
“Roger.”
And that was that. The fact that he didn’t need anything else from her was usually a good thing, but tonight, she wanted to talk to him. Make some decisions about simple stuff like chicken or fish, rice or potatoes, ice cream with the pie for dessert?
Instead, she turned away. God, how much longer did she have to wait? Gus had texted and canceled the tests he’d scheduled for the morning, saying that he had the data he needed after all and that he’d reconvene with her at midnight to move forward. When she’d sent back a response suggesting they just move forward, he’d replied that he was leaving the lab for the day to get some clothes from his house.
And that was that. No more communication—
Daniel Joseph stepped into her path and she jumped back.
“Sorry,” he said as he put out his hands. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. “I’m okay.”
She wasn’t okay. Daniel, on the other hand, was looking much better. He was freshly showered, and smelling of the shampoo, conditioner, and soap she stocked the house with. He hadn’t put his knit hat on, for once, and she could see how his hair was growing back in evenly, the dark shadow tinting his scalp. He was also bundled up, the sweater and cardigan on top of his thick pants adding some weight to his narrow frame.
His eyes were particularly bright, she thought. And though he wasn’t using words, he was communicating with them, loud and clear.
She nodded over his shoulder.
Together, they went wordlessly down the front of the house, passing by those guards, entering her study. As she closed them in together, she hit a button on the wall, her fingerprint the code to activate the lockdown: All at once, panels descended over the bulletproof windows and a locking mechanism dead-bolted the steel-reinforced door.
“Fancy,” he murmured as he went over to the chair on the other side of her desk. As she sat down across from him, he nodded at her fleece. “Nice clothes.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
Daniel tilted his head. “I’m serious. You look younger. You know, less like a battle-ax.”
C.P. opened her mouth. Closed it. Then laughed a little. “I wasn’t aware that was the impression I made.”
“Bullshit.” The guy smiled back. “And it’s a successful set of armor. You could totally be on the Game of Thrones prequel.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“So you know a guy named Gunnar Rhobes.”
Ah, yes, C.P. thought. Here we are.
“I’ve heard of him,” she said smoothly.
“Yeah, I was thinking that you people”—he moved his hand around—“who play at this undercover-lab game know each other. No one starts out running medical research under the radar. You all had to begin somewhere legit.”
“This is true.”
“Gunnar Rhobes was on our agency’s list as a target.”
She didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “Was he.”
“Yeah, and his lab in Tuttle, Pennsylvania, had a little accident the day before yesterday.”
C.P. thought back to being in Houston, in that skyscraper of Gunnar’s… all those suits running down to the conference room.
“What kind of accident,” she asked.
“It was bombed out of existence.” Daniel made a starburst with one of his hands. “Boom! Someone blew it up.”
C.P. sat forward. “Did your organization do it?”
“I don’t know. I back-ended the F.B.G. database using a sign-in that was still live—and don’t worry, I covered my tracks even with your virtual server. Anyway, there were ops notes on the site from the spring. Another squad, other than mine, was working on the project. Maybe it took them six months to get it done, although usually things moved faster than that.”
“It could have been terrorism. Or someone from the inside.”
“Whatever the case, it’s gone and that’s irrefutable. Local sources are saying there was an earthquake radiating out from the area and a sinkhole opened up. It was all over the morning news. Law enforcement aren’t doing shit at the site, which leads me to believe they were bought off pretty quick.”
C.P. thought about Gunnar Rhobes. And everything she knew he was capable of.
Would he blame her somehow?
“So,” Daniel murmured. “You want to clue me in on exactly how well you know that guy and his company?”
She frowned and shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
“Listen, if it’s a case of you’ll-have-to-kill-me-if-you-tell-me?” The guy pointed to his lungs. “Nailed it on the dead part already—so you might as well get talking.”