Page 21 of Callen's Captive
Hell, he was being as brainless as he often accused Blade when the scout was quick to jump to conclusions. Callen grabbed the plastic bag and charged out of the building into the bright sunlight. He pivoted a full three-sixty but didn’t see her anywhere. She was fast, but he knew her scent better than he knew his own at this point. He’d spent most of last night inhaling her unique fragrance as he watched her sleep in the chair.
Her trail stood out to him as clear as if she had posted a neon sign with an arrow in the direction she had fled. He caught up to her weaving through the parking lot of the strip mall, with her bag slung over her shoulder and her head bent to avoid any cameras. Her decision to leave had been decisive and quick. He meant nothing to her, not that he expected to after such a short time, but he had thought, had hoped, they had begun to form a friendship of sorts. If nothing more, he thought he deserved something better than her walking away without giving him a chance to explain himself.
When Callen stepped in front of her, bringing her to a grinding halt between two parked sedans, he never expected to see that wounded expression on her face. Her eyes were shiny with tears. She wiped them away and sucked in a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. I should have asked instead of jumping to conclusions. That’s not who I am normally.”
“I’m human, but that doesn’t make me one of them.” Her hands fisted at her side.
“I know.”
“And not all humans are bad.”
“I’m sure that’s true, but I haven’t met many good ones in my time. I’m trying to be open-minded, but I need answers.”
“Not here,” she said, eyes darting from the parked cars to the people coming and going.
“Yes. Here. Now. Tell me what’s going on.”
More tears, that she fought to end, but could only wipe away in a futile attempt to stem the flow. “I stole stuff from the WSSO. Money mostly.”
“That’s it?”
With a deep breath, the tears finally ceased. “A lot of money.”
“Exactly how much are we talking?”
“Over thirty.”
“Thirty thousand. It’s a lot, but—”
“Million. Thirty million dollars.”
He whistled low. “That’s a lot of cash.”
“Funds, not cash. Over the past two years, I’ve been hacking into their investment accounts and banks, transferring small amounts here and there to various organizations and people who needed it.”
“Two years. What happened that they’re coming after you now?”
“I guess I got overambitious with the last theft. I took four million. Smaller numbers don’t get noticed as easily, unless they audit their books, which I don’t think they bother doing.”
Callen leaned against the car, wincing at the pull on his still-healing ribs. “Giving the money back won’t do anything. They’ll see you as an ongoing threat.”
“You want me to give money to the WSSO?”
“Only if it would get you out of their cross-hairs. I’d rather see you poor and safe than rich and dead.”
She huffed, clearly insulted, but then she placed her hand on his chest. “The money’s gone. I gave it to people like Anna who the WSSO tried to destroy.”
It fit Kate that she’d give away what she stole. The threadbare jeans and sneakers with holes indicated she kept very little money, if any, for herself.
“Anna said you were funding her research, but she never said why.”
“I never told her why.”
“Care to tell me?”
“It’s simple, really. What they did to her was wrong. They destroyed her grant, her lab, her reputation. Money can’t buy that back, but it gave her the ability to continue her work and do what she needed to do. And anything that damages the WSSO is worth doing, especially if I can help one of their victims in the process.”
