“What’s wrong with them?” I asked.
Diem didn’t respond and crawled around the floor, following the tangle of wires, trying to locate the problem. Growling in frustration, he got to his feet a few minutes later and scanned the room, hands propped on his hips.
“Is the power cut to the computers?” I asked.
“No.” His gaze landed on the station nearest him, a dip appearing between his brows. “Son of a bitch.”
“What?”
He approached and tugged a USB from a port before moving to the next station and removing one from it. Every computer in the room had a similar USB inserted. He turned one over in his hand, examining it.
“What is it?”
“My guess? A USB killer. Lukyan’s fail-safe plan in case this room, whatever it is, was compromised.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A USB killer was technically manufactured to test surge protection, but they are also used to fry motherboards. He’s got one in every computer, and my guess is, he had them set up with remote access so he could activate the destructive surge from his phone if his operation came under threat of discovery. These computers are fucked.” Diem kicked a chair, and it rolled into the wall. “Whatever they contained has been obliterated.”
30
Diem
“He’s fine, D. Let’s go to bed.”
It was long past two in the morning before we got home. Darcy collapsed on the couch after taking a handful of pain meds and fell asleep instantly. The pack of cigarettes he’d bought that morning sat on the coffee table, calling to me with promises of easing the stress I’d accrued after a night chasing Lukyan.
I deserved one. I’d been good all day. No alcohol. Minimal violence.
I resisted.
Somehow.
The millionaire had managed to keep the upper hand, and we had no idea where he’d gone, but he’d left destruction in his wake. Proving he orchestrated a massive grandparent scheme was slipping through my fingers.
When I refused to step down from my post of guarding Darcy, Tallus took my arm and guided me toward the bedroom. Echo didn’t follow. She wiggled her way onto the couch instead and stretched outbeside the kid. Darcy wrapped an arm around her like she was a stuffed animal. Echo didn’t seem to mind.
In the bedroom, we stripped to our underwear and got under the covers. Tallus, like Echo, wiggled his way into my arms, his ear resting against my chest. I stroked his hair and rubbed his back, tracing the dip of his spine to his ass and back up. My thoughts were a whirlwind. I was never going to fall asleep at this rate. I wasn’t sure where to go from here, but turning this discovery over to the cops before I could ensure Darcy’s safety wasn’t an option.
“I’m supposed to meet Aaron tomorrow to test the projector for Nana’s birthday, and I still haven’t transferred those pictures to a thumb drive. Are you planning to visit?”
Christ, how was it Sunday already? Her birthday party was in one week. Would this case be solved or shelved by then? Was Lukyan gone? Was the kid safe? It wasn’t like I could send him home. He lived in a fucking drug den with strung out roomies. Lukyan might have someone watching the house for all I knew.
“What am I going to do about Darcy?”
Tallus lifted his head and looked me in the eye. “He’s nineteen, Guns. He doesn’t need a babysitter while you visit Nana. He can manage on his own for one hour.”
But that wasn’t my question.
I didn’t elaborate.
The case. Lukyan’s escape. The fried computers. Nana’s party. AA meetings. The constant itch under my skin. Those goddamn cigarettes on the coffee table. The phone call from Tallus’s father. It all swirled through my brain like a tornado, relentless and untamed.
Destructive.
When was my next appointment with Dr. Peterson?
What the fuck day was it again?
