“Sure.Just leave me some wheels.I’d hate to have to steal.”
“You got it.Be careful.”
“Absolutely.”Delgado hung up.
It wouldn’t be more than forty-eight hours at most before Sigma found her if they started scanning in sweeps out from the abandoned house.She was less than four blocks away—right in their critical zone.They would scoop her up, fill her full of Zed, and brainwipe her as soon as they realized she was an untrained psi.She’d spend the rest of her life with a Sigma handler, doing work for the black side of the government.
The thought called up an irrational flare of anger.You don’t even know this woman,he cautioned himself.You don’t know anything yet.And really, Delgado, you’ve done everything but sniff her panties now.You’re sick.Do your job and get the hell out of here.
He wondered why she didn’t have any pets while he bugged her bedroom and the kitchen, and he spent another few minutes locking the back door and setting up a few countermeasures that should at least keep her from random Sigma probes.If they were doing concentrated sweeps the counters wouldn’t be very useful, but at least he’d know once Sigma came calling.Unless she did as she’d done last night and blew out the probes.
How am I going to make contact with her?She’s well-insulated, if I read her right, not a lot of social contact outside her job and her father.And she’s sensitive.I’ll probably rub her raw.He retreated down the street, deep in thought, the used latex gloves stuffed back in his bag.How the hell am I going to make contact without spooking her?
His phone buzzed again.He ducked into an alley between two fences and flipped it open.“Delgado.”
“Del?”It was Zeke.“Get your ass out here, man.We got problems.”
It took less than a second for his brain to click into “work” mode.“Where?”
“Corner of… Maple and Seventeenth, Shop’N’Save parking lot.I’ve marked a Sig transport, Del.”
Delgado took a deep breath.His heartbeat slowed, adrenaline copper on his tongue, iron training smashing down his body’s instant reaction to the news.“Okay.Are they engaged, or surveilling?”
“Surveil, it looks like.Jesus Christ.JesusChrist.”
“Relax, Zeke.There’s a bike I can boost and be there in minutes.Just monitor them.If they go from surveil to engaging, or if you eventhinkthey might, call me again, okay?”
“You got it.”Zeke still sounded pale.“I’ll call you if they move.”
“How long ago did she go into the store?”He was already scanning the empty street, planning his approach.
“Thirty-six minutes.Jesus.Jesus God, there’s Sigs here.”
“Relax, Zeke.They could just be hungry.”Delgado hung up, and took out his wallet.It was time to do something just a little bit illegal.
Two minutes later, five hundred dollars were left in an envelope in a mailbox, and Delgado had stolen a motorcycle.The money would help whoever actually owned the bike—he hoped.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“I don’t know,”Rowan said, holding up two packages of brownie mix and eyeing them critically.“I guess so.”Muzak drifted through the brightly lit aisles, a soupy rendition ofStairway To Heaven.
“Well, Marta—at the bridge club, you know—says he’s a very nice boy.And he’s asked Marta about you.”Her father rested his trembling hands on the cart.His red suspenders matched his red socks, and the sports jacket with a hole on the collar was his traditional grocery-shopping outfit.“Get the ones with nuts, sweetie.You know how I like those.”
“I’ll add real nuts to the mix, Dad,” she replied absently, putting a box back, taking two of the other brand and dropping them into the basket.She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.“I’m not going on another blind date.”
“It’s not a blind date if you’ve already dated him.Are those the ones with nuts?”
“I’lladdthem, Dad, I’ve got a whole bag of walnuts at home.Look, the man’s an ass.He spent our entire last date talking about his job.”And how big his dick is.Always thinking about teenage girls, too.I don’t care if he is Marta’s nephew, I’m never going near him again.Makes my skin crawl.She shivered, pushing away the memory.
“Well, you make men a little nervous, princess.You’re a very beautiful girl.”
“Yeah, Dad.That’s why they’re beating down my door, right?”Stop it,she told herself, pretending not to see when her father snuck another box of brownie mix into the cart.Don’t be mean to him.It’s not his fault you’re too picky, Rowan.“We need milk and tortilla chips and some bottled water, and some frozen vegetables.”
“You should have made a list.”he said, a mischievous smile crinkling his face.His eyes sparkled.
“I did make a list,” Rowan replied, tapping her temple.“It’s up here.Come on, slowpoke.”The conversation was so familiar she barely had to pay attention.
Which was a good thing, because she was severely distracted.It wasn’t often that she wandered while driving, or had trouble choosingbrownie mix, for God’s sake.But her former good mood had fled, and her head seemed stuffed with cotton.She was also shivering, even though the supermarket wasn’t cold, and her father, who felt chills far more than she did, was comfortable enough in his sport jacket.Chill gooseflesh ran in waves down her back.
