Page 15 of Once a Killer

“Bree is fine. Makes it simpler. If they want a last name, it’s Jones. I’ve already asked Mel to make a profile for Bree Jones, a journalist with a Seattle e-zine. One that writes about tech issues. She’ll include an email address, and Mel will monitor it. Let me know if anyone writes to it.” She flashed a smile. “I’ll write back. Say I’m Bree’s supervisor. She’s one of my best journalists.”

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” he said, impressed by her preparation. She was clearly very good at her job. And that made him feel marginally better about the fact that someone was targeting him.

“Tried to,” she said. “But I know there are always things I haven’t thought of. Always things that come out of the blue.”

They began moving toward the building, and he opened the door for her. Passed a desk with a security guard. “Hey, Bobby,” Jameson said. “How’s it going?”

“Good, Mr. Ford,” Bobby replied. “You have a good day.”

“I will,” he said with a smile as he led Bree to the elevator. They got into the car and he pressed the button for the third floor.

Moments later they emerged into a corridor. He led her to the corner of the building, where he unlocked a door. Waited for her to enter first.

She flashed him a smile that softened her face. “You’re a quick study.”

“You told me you always go first. I was paying attention.”

“Exactly what I want to hear.” She touched his arm briefly, and a shock zinged up this skin. “One more thing -- don’t say anything when we get into your lab.”

She pushed the door open and studied his lab, and he wondered what she thought. It was divided into five large work areas, with walls between them and a door on each of them. One of the spaces was empty. The other four went from the extreme of obsessively tidy to excessively messy. He never said anything about the way his employees kept their workspaces. Everyone had their own way of working.

After spending a few moments studying everyone’s space, she turned to him. Nodded at his glassed-in office. “Yours?” she mouthed.

He nodded.

She pulled her cell-phone-like device out of her bag and turned it on. Lights flashed for a moment, then went dark. She pointed at his office, pantomimed starting there.

Again, he nodded.

He pointed to his chest. Raised his eyebrows.

She pointed to a chair behind him. Nodded at it.

He could practically hear her say, ‘Sit there. Stay out of my way’.

She went into his office and turned on the light. Looked up at the ceiling, studying it for a long time. She sighed, then moved her device over his bookshelves, stopping occasionally to put a red sticker on a shelf.

She did the same thing to his desk. His chairs. The table in the corner of his office.

She fiddled with the device in her hand, then started over. She put two blue stickers on his top shelves. Then she pulled the table to the center of the room, took off her shoes and climbed on top of it. When she was finished, she’d placed three stickers on the ceiling.

As she exited the office, she put her finger to her lips in the universal ‘quiet’ signal. She ran her gadget over desks and bookshelves and workspaces. Then switched it to another frequency and did it all again. She didn’t place any stickers this time, he noticed.

Finally, after climbing down from the final desk, she took his elbow and led him out of his office. Her expression was… sad. For him? She pantomimed locking the door and watched while he did. Then they took the elevator down to the first floor and exited the building.

“Don’t say a word,” she said in a quiet voice. “I want to be far away from the building before we talk.”

She exhaled as she moved away from the building and nodded at the picnic table that sat in the shade of a large oak tree near the fence surrounding the property.

He slid onto a bench, and she did the same on the opposite side. She inhaled deeply, then blew out a breath. “I’m sure you’ve already figured it out, but you’ve got a hell of a lot of bugs in your office. As well as several strategically placed cameras.”

She held out her hand. “You owe me ten bucks.”

Chapter 6

Scowling, he slapped a bill onto her palm.

“What the hell?” He stared at Bree, his expression shocked, and she got it. No one liked being spied on. No one liked having their secrets stolen from them. No one wanted to feel vulnerable.