Total pages in book: 262
Estimated words: 268603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1343(@200wpm)___ 1074(@250wpm)___ 895(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 268603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1343(@200wpm)___ 1074(@250wpm)___ 895(@300wpm)
Okay. I gently tug her braid, slanting her face toward me. “Just saying.” I brush my lips over hers.
Leaving Ana to soak a little longer in the bath, I get dressed and wander through to my study for Sawyer’s debrief. Mrs. Jones is in the kitchen.
“Evening, Gail.”
“Mr. Grey. Welcome home, and congratulations once again.”
“Thank you. Your sister okay?”
“All good, sir. Would you like anything?”
“No, thanks. I have some work to do.”
“Mrs. Grey?”
I grin. “She’s in the bath.”
Gail smiles and nods. “I’ll ask her when she’s out, sir.”
At my desk, I check my e-mails. Then buzz Sawyer. A moment later there’s a brisk knock at my door.
“Come in.”
Sawyer enters and stands before me, looking cool, calm, and professional in his suit and tie. His demeanor makes me so mad. Slowly, I get up from my desk and, placing both hands on it, lean toward him. “Where the fuck were you?” I shout.
He takes a small step back, surprised by my outburst.
“What the hell were you doing that you weren’t ready to leave when we were?” I fold my arms, keeping a rein on my temper.
“Mr. Grey.” He holds up his hands. “We were patrolling the grounds, like you asked us to do. And we didn’t know you were leaving.”
Oh.
“Also,” he adds, getting into his stride, “I’d noticed the unsub. It arrived while we were out patrolling and I was going to investigate, when you came out of the house.”
Ah.
I sigh, somewhat mollified. “I see. Okay.” I should have told them we were leaving. And I know if Taylor had been with us, he would have left his colleague in the car.
“And Mrs. Grey set off at one hell of a pace.” He raises a disapproving eyebrow.
I want to laugh at his response. I feel his pain, but I remain impassive. “She did,” I admit. “Though you should have caught up. You’re both trained in defensive driving.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t let it happen again.”
“Yes, Mr. Grey.” He looks a little contrite. “Sir,” he says. “The unsub didn’t follow us. He or she arrived shortly before you were leaving. I logged the exact time I noticed the car. It was 14:53 and they did not exit the vehicle. They knew where you were.”
I pale. “What does that mean?”
“That someone could be watching your parents’ house, sir. Or watching us here. Though I think we would have noticed if we were followed to Bellevue.”
“Shit.”
“Precisely. I’ve written a report for you and forwarded it to Taylor and Mr. Welch.”
“I’ll read it. Where’s Ryan?”
“He’s still on the road to Portland.”
“Still?”
“Yes. Let’s hope the unsub runs out of gas,” Sawyer says.
“Why do you think the driver’s a woman?” I ask.
“From the brief glimpse I got, I thought their hair was tied back.”
“That’s not definitive.”
“No, sir.”
“Keep me updated.”
“Will do.”
“Thank you, Luke. You can go.”
He turns without a word and leaves my study while I sit back down at my desk, relieved that I don’t have to fire him or Ryan, though I’ll be glad when Taylor’s back with us tomorrow evening. I contemplate Sawyer’s theory; perhaps someone is watching my parents’ place. But why? I should call my father, but I don’t want to worry him, or my mother.
Shit. What to do?
My iMac has been nagging me about the latest update to its operating system, so I decide to install it, and open my laptop to check my e-mails and Sawyer’s report.
I’m reading when my phone buzzes.
“Barney,” I answer, surprised that he’s contacting me on a Sunday.
“Welcome home, Mr. Grey.”
“Thank you. What is it?”
“I’ve been going through the CCTV footage in the server room and I’ve uncovered something.”
“You have?”
“Yes, sir. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to share it with you. I hope you don’t mind. But I figured you’d want to know. I’ll e-mail you a link and you can take a look yourself.”
“You figured right. E-mail it to me now.”
“Doing it.”
“Will you stay on the line?”
“Yes, sir. I’m anxious for you to see it.”
I smile. Barney is protective of his server room. I bet he’s as pissed as I am by the unwelcome breach. His e-mail pops into my inbox; I open it and click on the link and I’m taken to a site I’ve not seen before. There are four different boxes that look like they might be monochrome views of my server room at Grey House. “Barney, you there?”
“Yes, Mr. Grey.”
“What am I looking at?”
“This is the GEH security hub. If you click the play button in the menu on the left-hand side of the screen at the top, the footage from all the cameras within the server room will play.” I do as I’m asked, and the footage plays four different views of the room. At the bottom center of each feed there’s a date with a timer. It reads 08/10/11 07:03:10:05 and the milliseconds on the clock fly by. Via these four views, I watch a tall, slim man enter the room. He has scruffy dark hair and he’s in pale, possibly white, coveralls. He walks to one of the servers, bends to the floor, and places a small black item that’s hard to identify between two of the server cabinets. He stands and glances down at his handiwork, then, keeping his face fixed on the door, leaves.