She set the mug beside Ozzie’s rattling keyboard, and Ozzie thanked her. Then, without taking his eyes off the screen, he lifted his mouth for a kiss. Samantha obliged, giving him a loud, smacking one before pulling a spare rolling chair up behind him so she could massage his shoulders.
There was such adoration in Samantha’s eyes when she looked at her man, such love and respect. Chelsea had to glance away.
Samantha and Ozzie had an improbable love story. Samantha was an investigative reporter whose sole mission in life was to drag secrets into the light. And Ozzie was a covert operator who lived and worked cloaked in some of the world’s deepest, darkest shadows. But somehow, someway, they made it work.
It was impossible for Chelsea to look at them and see happily ever after written all over their faces when she knew she would never have a happily ever after of her own.
As if sensing her distress, Peanut, the notch-eared, crooked-tailed tomcat that acted as BKI’s mascot, placed his front paws on her knees and meowed up at her. His yellow eyes looked solemn, sympathetic.
A lump formed in her throat. Figuring she could use all the comfort she could get, Chelsea pulled the big cat into her lap. It took some effort. Peanut was far from a dainty thing. In fact, she’d put him at close to twenty pounds.
She reckoned her legs were sure to go to sleep in no time when he curled up into the familiar cat-loaf on her lap, all his legs tucked underneath him. But she didn’t mind. Especially when he began to purr.
The sound was loud enough to compete with the noise the steel-and-chrome beasts made when Becky tested their engines down in the shop on the first floor. Chelsea found it soothed her as much as anything could.
You know, what with my heart lying on the floor.
“I got him!” Ozzie pumped a fist. “Take that, you sorry sonofabitch!” His screen flashed from eye-crossing lines of code to reveal the classic Microsoft desktop screen.
“Is that Morrison’s system?” Chelsea asked, scratching behind Peanut’s ears. She leaned closer to the screen.
“You betcha.” Ozzie nodded. “Now just let me…” He trailed off as he scrolled through the directory.
Unfortunately, there were no files named “Spider” or “Accounts that link me to Spider.” But one file folder caught Chelsea’s attention. She pointed to it. “What’s that one? The one titledBad Things?”
Ozzie clicked on it, and there was a collective gasp heard around the room. Becky, who had come to stand behind Chelsea’s chair, whispered, “Dear sweet Jesus.”
Bile climbed into the back of Chelsea’s throat as one image after another flashed onto the screen. All of girls just entering puberty. All showing the subject either bound or gagged, or both. All so grotesque and heartrending that Dagan’s voice sounded shredded when he hissed, “Close out of there. For fuck’s sake, Ozzie. I can’t take any more.”
Ozzie shut down the file, and for long moments no one said a thing. Even Peanut sensed the tension in the air. He stopped purring, and his ears flicked nervously.
“He’s a pedophile.” Chelsea was in shock. She’d known Morrison was a sick shit, but this… She’d never expected this.
“A dead pedophile,” Dagan grumbled. “Which is the best kind, in my opinion.”
“Fuckin’ A” was all Ozzie said as he stared stony-eyed at his screen. Then he shook himself and leaned toward the keyboard once again. “Okay.” He blew out a breath. “Okay, so there’sthat. And I…well, I don’t have any words. Truth to tell, I’m a little nervous of what other horrors might pop out at us.”
“Hopefully Spider’s true identity and how he’s tied to Morrison will pop out at us,” Becky said.
“Right.” Ozzie nodded and went back to scrolling through the computer directory.
Chelsea’s phone came to life inside her pocket. When she pulled out her cell, the number for the director of the CIA glowed on the screen.
Back in Paris, she had called to let him know she was on the plane. But she had forgotten to phone him and tell him when she had landed and when she had made it to BKI headquarters. She blamed the oversight on emotional turmoil.
“Sir?” she answered, carefully dumping Peanut from her lap and walking away from the group gathered around the computer bank. “I’m sorry I forgot to—”
He cut her off. For a couple of seconds she listened, her heart pounding in her chest, then she said, “Of course, sir. Right away, sir,” before thumbing off her phone.
Becky was the one to turn to her, a sleek blond eyebrow raised. “Well? I take it that was Director Russell. What does he have to say?”
Chelsea swallowed. “Given all the press back in the UK, and given it won’t be long until Morrison’s murder and my face are splashed all over the news stationshere, he wants me back in Langley. He says I need to lie low until we can get this thing straightened out and clear my name.”
“Probably smart.” Becky nodded. “We’ll keep you apprised of anything and everything we find.”
“Thank you.” There was a heartbeat in Chelsea’s throat as she looked at Dagan’s back. She desperately wanted him to turn to her, to say…something.Anything.But he didn’t.
“I…uh…I could use a ride back to the airport. Director Russell has a plane waiting for me,” she said.
