Page 32 of Once a Killer

He laced his fingers with hers and savored the chafe of those calluses against his palm. One day, he’d ask her how she’d gotten them. But not today. There’d been enough sharing for one day. Enough exposing of the soft, vulnerable underbelly. On both their parts.

Today, he’d pretend he hadn’t just spilled his guts to her. And he was certain she’d do the same.

“You want a coffee before we get to work?” he asked.

She disentangled her hand from his. Nodded without looking at him. “I’d love one.”

“Coming right up.” Before he went out to the coffee machine, he asked, “What are you focusing on today?”

“I’m going to interview Joe Lewandowski and Stu Rivers. See if I can get them to open up. Figure out who they are.”

“Good luck with that,” he said. “Joe’s as closed as a clam. Doesn’t let anything out. And Stu? I’m worried about him. I don’t think he’s progressing with his program, but he hasn’t asked anyone in the lab for help.” He gave her a half-smile. “Maybe you’ll have better luck with them.”

* * *

From her chair in Jameson’s office, Bree studied the two men she wanted to interview today. Joe Lewandowski was deep in his work and apparently oblivious to anything going on around him. Suddenly, Brewster McKay pumped his fist. “Youza” he yelled.

Brogan and Rivers looked over at him, and Brogan wandered over and said something. McKay turned to her with a smile and began speaking, with flashing hands and an ‘I nailed this’ expression on his face.

Rivers? His face tightened. He watched McKay and Brogan for a few moments, then turned away and stared at the mess on his desk. Picked up a tangle of wires, pulled two of them apart, then dropped the tangle again. Drew a deep breath. Before he turned away, hopelessness flickered across his face.

Keeping her eye on Stu Rivers, Bree pulled her notebook and a pen out of her bag, then stood up. Jameson’s gaze lifted to her. “You interviewing Joe and Stu?”

“Yeah. Gonna try, anyway.” She glanced into the lab and sighed. “Not sure how much I’ll get. Rivers looks completely lost. And Lewandowski? His ‘keep out’ sign is flashing in neon over there.”

“Good luck,” he said.

“I’ll get something from each of them.” She shrugged, then, her gaze flicking to the bugs still in place, she added, “I want my readers to get a sense of everyone in the lab. Of what they’re doing. How their projects could be useful. Or entertaining. Whatever they’re working on.”

The glint in his eyes told her he realized what she was doing. “You ask good questions,” he said. “Got a lot more out of me than I’d intended to give you.” A flash of panic flickered across his face. “I don’t usually open up to journalists,” he added hastily.

“Must be my mad skills,” she said.

“Must be.” Relief flashed across his face. He hadn’t given anything away to whoever was listening to them. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” she said, exiting his office.

She suspected that Rivers was going to be the harder engineer to interview. Lewandowski would be more reluctant, but part of her training had taught her how to get people to open up.

So she walked over to Lewandowski’s desk. Waited for him to look up at her. “Hey, Joe,” she said. “I’m Bree Jones, a reporter for the Seattle ezine Tech News. I’m doing an article about this lab, as I’m sure Jameson and the others have told you. Do you have time to answer a few questions for me? If you could give me a quick summary of what your program will do, as well as your target audience, I hope my article will give you more exposure. Put your name and ideas out there in a wider marketplace.”

Lewandowski stared at her for a disconcertingly long time, and Bree saw suspicion in his expression. Distaste for what she wanted from him. But Bree was used to those reactions. Used to a reluctance to engage with her. So she calmly stared back.

He broke eye contact first. Looked down at his desk and said, “I’m not interested in being interviewed.”

“That’s your right, of course,” she said. “No one has to speak to me. But if you don’t, I’ll ask Jameson to give me an overview of your project. Nothing technical or proprietary, of course, just an idea of what it’ll do. Better for you, I think, if the words come from you. Better if I can attribute the quotes to you. Better if you give me the description of what your program will do.”

He stared at her, stone-faced.

She drew a breath and said, “If today is a bad day for you, though, we can do it another time.”

He stared at her for a long time, and she was sure he expected her to look away. Concede defeat. When she didn’t, he sighed. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

She opened her notebook to a new page. “Why don’t we start with your educational background. Your college and PhD program.”

“Cornell,” he said. “University of Illinois.”

“Cornell is your undergraduate degree?”

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