The kid’s terrified, but the rasp to his words—he’ll crack if I can just find some common ground. Something he cares about more than himself. “Who’s after you? I can get you protection. You, your mom, and your brother.”
“Oh shit. Officer! Officer! Get me the hell out of here!” Kyle starts pounding on the table, and a moment later, the door bangs open. “This asshole doesn’t represent me. I don’t want to talk to him. Take me back to the holding cell.”
“You’re refusing representation?” the tired voice of the guy who brought me in here holds a hint of shock, but he shuffles forward, keys jingle, and Kyle’s chair scrapes against the floor. “Your loss.”
As Kyle brushes past me, I grab his arm, lean in, and lower my voice. “Last chance, kid. Tell me who’s after Evianna.”
“Tell Evianna I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for ruining her fancy sneakers.”
18
Evianna
I keep eying my briefcase, dying to take out Kyle’s notebook and flip through it, but the past couple of hours have been one interruption after another after another. Noah, Barry, Sanjay, Una… Every one of the developers has needed me to sign off on their bugs, and though I have my Alfie unit plugged in under my desk and scan through her logs every chance I get, I’m no closer than I was this morning to finding out what happened.
A power surge tripped her circuits around 5:00 p.m. yesterday, and that might have been why she didn’t record the break-in. But why didn’t she report the power surge? There’s no logical reason.
The burner phone I tucked in the pocket of my jacket buzzes. “Dax. Oh God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize what time it was. I can pack up and be ready to go in ten minutes.”
“I’ll be in the lobby.”
The call cuts off before I can reply, and the harsh edge to his voice worries me. He sounded…stressed? Frustrated? Worried? All of the above?
Once I pack up my laptop—and check, yet again, that Kyle’s notebook is still tucked safely into the pocket of my briefcase—I stare at my Alfie unit. Should I bring her with me? I can’t really do anything with her at Dax’s. I need to be on-site to get into the guts of her code. But leaving her here doesn’t feel right either.
In the end, I unplug her and stow her in my file cabinet. I wouldn’t put it past Barry to sneak into my office and take her—just so he can show me up and figure out what’s wrong with her before I can. Jerk.
I don’t make it three steps out of the elevator before Dax is at my side. “Let’s get home,” he says.
“Wait.” Glancing around at the empty lobby—it’s well after 7:00 p.m. and even the security guard’s gone for the day—I pull him over to the couches in the corner. “There’s no one here. Can we talk for a minute?”
“Did you check the potential hiding places you told me about this afternoon?” He arches a brow, his slight drawl the only thing that keeps his words from sounding like he’s a complete ass.
With a sigh, I shake my head. “No. Not all of them. Wait here?”
“You did not just ask me to let you go off alone when you admit there might be danger.” Grabbing my hand, he pulls me to my feet. “Take me around the lobby and check everywhere.”
“Fine,” I grumble. When I’ve checked the bathrooms, the stairwell, and behind the couches, I drop his hand. “Satisfied, Mr. Overprotective?”
“Yes.” The corners of his lips twitch slightly, and God. He’s got that whole damaged, ruggedly handsome vibe going on, and I just want to go back to his place and tear his clothes off. If I weren’t still worried for my life.
“I found something today.” Sitting, I pull one of the pages of Kyle’s notebook out of my bag. “Can you do the thing…with your glasses? So you can read this?”
Dax taps the Bluetooth in his ear twice, then presses a tiny, black button on the upper right corner of his glasses before holding a hand out for the page.
“What does P-R-O-C 2-8-t-2-9 mean?”
“I have no idea. But this is Kyle’s. There’s a whole notebook full of random words, bits of code. It’s going to take me days to get through, but I couldn’t risk reading much of it in the office.”
Dax scans the rest of the page, the letters and numbers, partial subroutines, rantings and nonsense. “Evianna, this could all be nothing.”
“I know. But it could also be something. I want to go to Kyle’s apartment. You can…um…get us in there? Wren said he’d disappeared.” I can’t believe I’m asking this man—this former soldier—to commit a potential felony. But I know I’m right. There’s something Kyle knows, and if I can get into his place, maybe I can figure it out.
“She found him.” Dax takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. Under the scars, dark smudges bruise his skin, and when he drops his hands, strain is etched in deep lines on his face. “He’s in prison.”
“Oh shit. For what? Did he try to hurt someone else?” My heart hammers in my chest, and I clutch Dax’s forearm, my fingers digging into the corded muscle.
He covers my hand with his, and the contact settles me. “No, darlin’. He…wanted to get arrested. He gave them a fake name, and when I went to see him, he refused to talk to me.”
