Page 66 of Edge of Secrets

Duncan

I escorted Nell down to the parking garage, where the car service was waiting, and bundled her into the vehicle. I lectured the bodyguard— a burly guy with long arms and a low, bulging forehead—about the mortal danger Nell was in for about fifteen minutes before I let them take off.

I watched the car pull out of the garage, turn, and disappear. I wanted to run after the car, screaming and waving my arms. Something had been wrenched out of me, leaving a bleeding hole.

I stumbled upstairs like a zombie and dropped onto the couch. The sun got higher. My landline phone rang. My mother, probably. Calling to give me hell about Ellie. I could give a shit. It went to voice mail. There it would stay, unheard.

The square of sun on the floorboards inched along. My phone rang. I checked the display. It was Bruce. He was probably wondering what the hell was going on, since Nell had stood him up. I tossed the phone onto the couch, still ringing. Later for Bruce.

Odd that she hadn’t contacted him herself, though.

The only reason I didn’t turn it off altogether was because Nell was out there in the world without me at her side. With just some random mercenary bodyguard to protect her. That phone was my last and only link to her.

Some time later, the phone rang again. This time Braxton. I pushed “talk.”

“What happened?” I barked. “Is she okay?”

Braxton was taken aback. “Ah … yes, as far as I know,” he said carefully. “I haven’t heard anything from Wesley, so I assume things are fine.”

My lungs released, allowing me to inhale. I felt stupid and hysterical. “Oh. Good. So, uh … what’s up?”

“Just letting you know that Teiko and Sam just presented their report about the apartment they bug-swept yesterday.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“It was riddled with stuff,” Braxton said. “High quality, foreign made. Amazing stuff. There were cameras behind both air vents, and bugs and traces everywhere. Teiko’s convinced that they didn’t find everything there was to find.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “Did you have them deliver the material to Gant for the evidence techs to look over?”

“Of course, as promised. One last question. Did she bring any stuff with her when she came to your place? Suitcases, electronics?”

“Who told you she was at my place?” I snapped.

“Word gets around,” Braxton said patiently. “So? Did she?”

“She brought a suitcase,” I said. “But she took it with her again. It’s in the car— with her and Wesley.” A cold chill began to prickle up my back. “Oh my God. Shit.”

“Yeah, it was probably tagged,” Braxton said, his voice not without sympathy.

My eyes fell on her laptop, which lay right where she’d forgotten it on the couch. The chill transformed into an icy cramp, squeezing my guts.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, my voice a thread. “Her laptop. It’s still here.”

“Check it,” Braxton said.

I grabbed it. It was a big, clunky dinosaur of a thing, at least eight years old. I found a screwdriver and pried the case open. There it was. A listening device. It was transmitting in real time, as I watched. Everything we had said had been heard, clear as a bell. Including the address where Nell was headed right now. Where she might have already arrived.

I yanked the thing out, detached its power source with a yank. “Bugged,” I said.

“I just tried Wesley.” Braxton’s voice was grim. “He didn’t answer.”

“Fuck,” I hissed. “Call the cops for me, right now. The local ones. Have them check the place out. I’m on my way.”

“Wait! Dunc, don’t go alone. I’ll organize a?—”

I ended the call. No time. I shoved the phone into my pocket, sprinted for the bedroom. Tossed on a T-shirt, army-issue pants, shoes for sprinting. Shoved my gun into the back of my pants, buckled on my ankle sheath and knife. Dug out the drug-treated throwing stars from my weapons stash, filled my side pants pockets with them. Grabbed the laptop with the software to triangulate the GPS signal implanted in the cell phone I’d given her.

I ran to my car.

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