I frown. "So he knew what you were looking into? Before you got arrested?"
"Yes." Her voice softens. "I'm sure he doesn't know what's going on. He'll be relieved to see me."
Something twists in my gut. Jealousy? Christ, I have no right to that feeling. But I can't help wondering about their relationship. The way her voice changes when she talks about him.
"If he's so concerned, why didn't he come looking for you when you disappeared?"
"He probably tried," she says defensively. "But Matt plays by the rules. He wouldn't?—"
"Break them for you?" The words come out harsher than intended.
Naomi turns to look at me fully. "Not everyone solves problems by burning down their lives and disappearing, Walker."
The comment stings more than it should. I grip the steering wheel tighter.
"Once we get the evidence," she says after a moment. "I’ll need someone who can present it. I’m a fugitive. A traitor. No one is going to listen to me. But they'll listen to Matt.”
“If you’re accused of a crime, a fugitive, and he’s such a straight arrow, he should turn you in. What makes you so sure he’ll listen to you?”
She stares out her window, and in a voice so quiet I almost don’t hear her, she says, “He has to.”
I pull the truck into the short-term parking garage. I park in a spot with clear sightlines to exits in three directions. As I kill the engine, I turn to her.
"Just promise me one thing. If this goes sideways, you follow my lead. No questions."
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of thesame doubt I'm feeling.
"Okay," she agrees. "But it won't come to that."
I hope she's right. Because my way ain’t pretty, and it sure as hell ain’t clean.
"There he is," Naomi says, her voice lifting with relief. I follow her line of sight, immediately sizing him up. Spencer is not as tall or as big as I am, but he's attractive. Fit. Dark skin, dark eyes, sharp features. I can tell that, like Naomi, he's not an operator, but he can handle himself. Spencer is angrily jamming at his cell phone, probably due to the unexpected layover and flight cancellation courtesy of Static.
"Come on," Naomi says, already reaching for the door handle. I just grunt in response but follow her out of the truck, staying a half step behind her, eyes constantly moving.
"Matt," Naomi calls. She says it quietly, but it still echoes in the cavernous space of the parking structure. It's late, so there isn't much activity. We have a moment. But not much more than that.
Spencer turns around, his expression transforming from irritation to shock in an instant. "Naomi?"
His eyes flick to me, and I see the change immediately. His pupils widen and his shoulders tense. He reaches for his weapon, but I already have mine drawn.
Naomi holds up her hands to both of us. "Stop. Please."
Spencer freezes, his hand hovering near his jacket, eyes darting between Naomi and my gun. "What are you doing here? How did you get here, and who's this?"
Naomi approaches Spencer like he's a cornered animal, slow with her palms up. I don't like it. She's putting herself between us, making herself vulnerable.
“It's a long story. But this is Walker. He helped me escape."
"Escape?" Spencer's voice rises. “Naomi, I came here to help find you. You’re a fugitive?—”
“Matt, you know me. You know what I was lookingfor was real. You know I wouldn’t do the things they accused me of.”
Spencer shakes his head. “Naomi, I feel like I don’t know anything. What I do know is that you’re in a lot of trouble.” His eyes clock me and the gun I’m holding on him. “And what you’re doing isn’t helping.”
“I know it doesn’t seem that way. But I’m going to find hard evidence of the digital trail I found.”
“How?” he asks.
