She had to regroup anyway. Her entire plan had hinged on finding Jay and convincing him to testify. Without him, she had nothing.
Scott released her, cracking the door to check the corridor before pulling it wide enough for them to leave. Conversations, laughter, and the sounds of football commentary swarmed around them, along with the scent of charred burgers, onion rings, and stale beer. From outside, the approaching sirens cut through the jovial din.
“This way.” He gripped her hand again, pulling her down the hall toward the back of the building.
As if she needed more proof that her life sucked, the one man she’d wanted so desperately to notice her finally had. And he thought she was everything he fought against.
And maybe wanted her dead.
She pushed aside her petty disappointments, ignored the sense of violation that sliced through her at learning she’d been followed for weeks, buried the horror of Jay being dead not fifty yards away—as much as she could—and followed Scott into the kitchen.
Life was a string of bad shit. She’d had a good run for a few years, but she should have known it was only a matter of time before she crashed.
Fryers beeped, pots clanged, and short-order cooks glanced up with surprise on their faces, but no one bothered to stop them. Most of them probably didn’t speak much English. Scott led the way past the stock room and a small break room, and leaned on the push-bar for a green metal door that had been propped open with a floor mat.
Cool, moist air thick with the stench of rotting garbage and fry grease enveloped them as they entered the alley. A light over the door illuminated liquor boxes and kegs and broken glass scattered along the base of the brick wall.
Scott faced her, still holding her hand as if afraid she’d run if he let go. “We’re going towalkdown the alley to Canejo Boulevard and then cross over to Sugar Beach.”
“Okay.” She let him keep her hand.
His grip tightened, but he kept their pace casual as the sirens stopped on the other side of the building and blue lights flashed off the alley wall.
Blue lights meant cops. Here because Jay was dead.
Why hadn’t she followed him outside? They’d been friends and partners for three years. Together, they’d defeated every computer system thrown at them, much to the chagrin of many government agencies, contractors, and a few terrorist groups. Of course, she and Jay were the good guys. They broke into systems in order to find security holes before the black hats did.
And with enough time, they always found a hole. Often all it took to break in was a little social engineering to get someone on the inside to reveal key information.
That had been Valerie’s strong suit. Despite being an introvert, she had a knack for getting people to believe her con. Maybe being a woman made her seem less like a potential threat, but whatever the reason, whenever she asked someone to open an email attachment to make sure it had come through okay, they always did. They even trusted her when she told them she was calling from their IT department and needed to reset their password.
Jay had been better at writing malicious code to break through barriers on the networks and hide their tracks so they didn’t set off alarms.
And now he was…gone.
Her throat tightened painfully. Tonight, he’d been so scared. Was his death her fault? If she hadn’t come to Zachari would he be safe? Either way, she was next on the hit list. She’d led Duncan right to him, so there was no need to keep her alive.
Valerie’s stomach clenched. Before she could even step to the side, she lost her dinner right there in front of God and Scott.
“Jesus.” He jumped back and released his hold.
She rested her hands on her knees and coughed. Dry heaves hijacked her body and she fought for breath. And right on cue, tears threatened and her nose started running.
Great. Bad enough that Scott thought she was on a par with CIA traitor Aldrich Ames, but now he was seeing her at her physical low too. Well, at least she hadn’t splattered her shoes.
An irrational laugh built in her throat.
Digging through her purse, she located a tissue and wiped her face, and then unwrapped a breath mint.
Finally looking up, she caught Scott staring at her with a mix of distaste and pity. “You okay?”
No.She nodded and started walking toward Canejo. She’d probably never be okay again. Not at the rate things were going.
“Why are you helping me?” she asked.
“Because I’m not sure who to trust right now,” Scott said. “And even if you’re guilty, I don’t want you to end up like your partner.” He appeared sincere—and she usually trusted her ability to read people—but if he’d been following her since early November, he’d already played her for a fool.
“That morning I ran into you in the parking lot at work wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”
