“Afterwards,” Vincent said.
“No, now.” Fiona was putting her foot down. This was ridiculous. They were on a wild- goose chase.This kid couldn’t help them any more than she could win the lottery.
“Fiona, we don’t have time for this,” Vincent hissed, grabbing her arm and dragging her. She tried pulling out of his grip but he held her tightly.
“This is my life,” she said desperately.
Vincent stopped. He looked at her hard. “And I’m trying to help you. I get you’re apprehensive, but I brought you to Squeaker for a reason.”
“That kid doesn’t look even old enough to drive, let alone track my stalker.”
“Squeaker will be twenty next week. She’s broken into the FBI database three times.”
They turned at the snort in front of them. “That you know of,” Squeaker said, facing a door.
“Stay out of this,” Vincent barked at her before turning back to Fiona. “She’s more than qualified to help us find your stalker.”
Fiona wanted to argue, but what choice did she have? She didn’t know anything about computers or dealing with stalkers. She had come here to escape her problems, but Vincent was offering her a real solution, one that wouldn’t risk ruining her. For now, she didn’t have any choice except to trust Vincent. “Fine.”
Squeaker led them into the basement, which Fiona was finding too cliché. What was with computer people and basements? She didn’t get it.
“Trust me,” Vincent whispered, sensing her uneasiness.
“Let’s just get this over with.” It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Vincent; she did to an extent. She just didn’t trust this kid who was more a kid still than an adult. What could she do? She expected Vincent to take her on base to one of their computer geniuses, not to a kid that was too young to drink, but Fiona kept her opinions to herself.
Vincent was trying to help her. He could have just sent her back to Florida likeJoaquíntold him to and he could have washed his hands of her. Instead, he was helping her find her stalker and offered his protection until her stalker was found. As much as she didn’t like it, she had to follow his lead. Her family had enough to deal with at the moment. She didn’t want to add to their burden. The fewer people that knew about her stalker the better.
Squeaker sat down at her computer, well, computers, plural; the woman had three of them, all with something on the screen. “What do you have for me?” Squeakers rubbed her hands together eagerly.
Vincent looked at Fiona expectantly and it took her a moment to realize what he wanted. Oh yeah, the pictures. The reason they were here. She had become distracted by her surroundings. For it to be a basement, she’d expected it to be dark and cold. For an adolescent to use it, she’d expected posters, but there was nothing. It was just a regular basement with high-tech gear on almost every wall. For some reason, she had the Bat Cave in her mind when she first descended the stairs.
Fiona handed over the photos and watched with curiosity as Squeaker scanned the photos into one of the computers. Lines started forming around her face and other objects in the picture. Squeaker opened another window on the next screen and a map came up of the world.
“How long will this take?” Fiona asked. Stuff like this in movies always seemed to take minutes.
“It all depends on how clever your stalker is. It could take a few hours or it could take days,” Squeaker told her, typing on the keyboard.
“Days?” she gasped. “This could take days.” She didn’t want to stay with Vincent for days.
“Squeaker knows what she’s doing,” Vincent told her with confidence.
That was all well and good but it didn’t change the fact that she could be living with Vincent for days. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. A few hours she could handle, but not days. She hated him. This was a mistake. She should have stayed with Savannah instead of hiding out at her brother’s.
It wasn’t too late. She could call Savannah and stay with her for a few days. It would make her life a lot less complicated. Vincent could go back to his place and they would never have to see each other, he could communicate through Savannah. It was a brilliant plan, but even as she thought it, she realized it would never work.
Savannah had enough going on, adjusting to her new life here in Texas. She had Bennett too. She didn’t want to be a third wheel. Besides, Savannah would make her face her own problems. Savannah had tried convincing her Vincent had feelings for her and looked at her a lot in the Congo. Savannah might get it in her head to set them up. She loved Savannah but she didn’t need her meddling. Nothing would ever happen between her and Vincent. He had made that more than clear. Vincent said he didn’t mean what he’d said, but it didn’t change the fact he had said it. Words she didn’t think she would ever get over.
“Is there nothing you can do to speed this up?” She knew she sounded whiny, but she really didn’t want to stay with Vincent for days.
“Unless you know who this person is, no,” Squeaker said with a shrug. “I have to find out where the pictures originated from, get a time stamp, find the IP address from who took the photos.” She rattled off what she needed to do, each thing sounding more and more complicated. “That’s the easy way, but if your stalker is smart, he’ll have created false trails so it’s impossible to find them.”
“Impossible. You mean you may not be able to find this person anyway?” What was she supposed to do then, live on the run? Afraid of when the next photo would turn up. Having to live off grid and avoiding her family to protect them. She couldn’t do that. Her family drove her crazy and tried dictating her life, but she still loved them.
Vincent, sensing her rising panic, left Squeaker to stand in front of her. He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Breathe. I brought us here because I know Squeaker will find your stalker.”
“What if she doesn’t?” she asked quietly. She just wanted her simple life back. She couldn’t take any more drama right now. The Congo had been more than enough. She ran to the Congo to escape her problems, but it just seemed like drama swarmed her like buzzards over a fresh kill, always waiting.
“Don’t think like that.” He gave her a half smile as his thumb stroked over her cheek. “Everything is going to work out.”
