Broken Build (25 page)

“Are you all right?” Jen limped after her.

Greta spewed throw-up onto a router. The fans blew the vomit back into her face. She collapsed and fell into the mess. She continued to retch, her hair rolling in the stomach contents that oozed into the air holes of the raised floor. An acrid smoke emanated from the router, and its lights blinked off, bringing that section of the network down.

Claire screamed and called security while Dave ran to the supply cabinet for shop towels.

Jen bent over Greta. “What happened?”

Greta moaned, her face contorted in agony. “Did you eat the stuffing?”

“No, I didn’t have an appetite.” Jen wiped Greta’s forehead.

Dave and Jen helped Greta wipe herself with the paper towels. Two guards showed up with a stretcher, followed by a janitor.

“She might have food poisoning. I’ll go with Greta to the hospital. Here are the keys in case you need to get back in.” Claire handed Dave a set of keys and kissed him full on the lips. “I have to go back to my guests, but maybe tomorrow we can continue where we left off?”

Jen turned toward the console and dug her fingernails into her palms. The rumors were true. How many other attractive and wealthy women did he keep in his harem?

The virtual network healed itself, rerouting around the damaged router. She crossed her fingers and prayed there would be no more glitches. As for Dave, she’d tell him everything and walk out of his life.

Dave returned fifteen minutes later with water bottles. “Guess it’s just me and you. You’re still staring at the progress bars?”

“All I see are spots and bars.” She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, taking deep breaths to strengthen herself. Before the night was over, she could be in jail again.

“Everything will be okay.” Dave tugged on her arm. “These benches are hard. Let’s wait in the break room lounge. Smells better out there.”

They walked to the lounge. The giant logo of Lystra Systems was emblazoned on the wall in silver and rhinestone. The lights had been dimmed for the holidays, and a tiny cone beamed from the emergency light above the refrigerator.

Jen sank into a leather couch, her emotions sodden as limp spaghetti.

Dave raised her swollen ankle and placed it on an ottoman. He smiled at her. “Feel better? Nice furniture.”

“I think Claire brought us to the executive suite.” Jen kept to the small talk. “I was here once when I met her husband.”

Dave slipped an arm around her. He smelled smoky, rough, tempting. She cringed, her heart clamoring for space and squeezing her lungs that she barely breathed. Sheesh, she just mentioned Claire’s husband, and Dave didn’t even flinch.

“I was thinking,” he said with a scratchy voice. “We’ve got four hours of waiting…” He turned bedroom eyes on her and raised her face. “We might as well be comfortable.”

Anger mixed with determination. Greta was right. She shouldn’t let this kind of man take advantage of her. She could do this. If he never talked to her again, it would be like turning the clock back two weeks, before he had noticed her, before Rey had died, before she had told him she loved him.

“I should tell you what happened the day Abby was kidnapped.” She didn’t know how she found her voice. It came out small and squeaky.

He sat up straighter and removed his arm. “Yes, you should.”

“I never leave keys in the door. And I couldn’t believe I had done it that day. But when the police jumped to the conclusion, I went along with it.”

He bent his elbows over his knees and shook his head. “I never liked that explanation, but you wouldn’t admit to anything else.”

A lump rose and threatened to block her throat. She swallowed, but it would not clear. “I had visitors over, even when you specifically said I could not entertain people at your house.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “Visitors? Who?”

“Friends.” She’d keep it casual. “Old classmates and people I used to hang around. We didn’t do drugs or anything.”

“Was there anyone in particular who showed up the day Abby was kidnapped?” His voice spiked, demanding.

She could only look at his lap. “Yes.”

“Who?”

“A friend of mine. He was on his way to the Philippines to see his sick grandmother. He dropped by for a snack and to say goodbye.” She left out the more intimate details. He didn’t need to know.

“So, he came to say goodbye. Did he see Abby?”

“No. She was sleeping already. He didn’t stay long.”

“So what did you guys do?” Dave’s eyes grew hard, and his voice was barely controlled. “Did you see him leave?”

Jen twisted her fingers between one hand and the other. She covered her face. “No.”

“No? What the heck were you doing if you didn’t see him leave?”

 “I was watching TV. Abby was napping in her room.”

“But he’d have to get past the TV to leave. Did you see him take Abby?”

“No, I didn’t see him. I fell asleep in the bathtub upstairs, where Jocelyn had a TV installed.”

“You what?” Dave’s voice rose. “You were in the master suite? I told you it was off-limits. What else did you do up there?”

“Nothing. Nothing. He bought me some bath soap, and I wanted to take a bath, and it was one o’clock, and “All My Children” was coming on, and I didn’t want him to see me, so I closed the door and he said he had a plane to catch.” She couldn’t stop for a breath, her words tumbling like leaves in front of a gardener’s blower.

“Why didn’t you see him out?”

“Because I didn’t want to miss the first scene.” She couldn’t tell him about the sex. It was too shameful.

He stood, his fists shaking. “I’m trying really hard to control myself. You didn’t want to miss the first scene? You lost my baby because of a TV show?”

“I’m so sorry.” Her throat constricted.

“Who was this friend? What was his name?”

“Rodrigo. Rodrigo Custodio, Rey’s brother.”

“Damn, Jen! Why didn’t you tell me?” He kicked the ottoman and bolted from the room.

Chapter 25

Dave used Claire’s key and climbed to the top of the executive suite. He stood on the balcony. The city lights of downtown San José glittered below. Airplanes took off and landed at Mineta International. As the world turned, families sat around the dinner table, playing board games or watching a movie. Mothers served apple cider while grandmothers dangled infants on their knees. The girl in the picture, if she was his daughter, was being tucked into bed, belly full of turkey and pie, while he stood alone at the top of a balcony. And the woman who could heal his pain was the very one who had caused it.

It had been far easier to hate her or forget about her. He wanted to hurt her, the way she hurt him, to take away someone she loved, to make her feel desolate, lonely, and hollow. The ticking in his head made him want to explode, to lash out, to do damage. Dave pounded the railing and stared at the fountain ten stories below.

When he’d bruised his forearms and wrists, he rubbed them, reliving the pain. He’d do something, follow up on this clue. He collected his emotions, numbed them and speed-dialed his lawyer.

“Phil, I’m really sorry to disturb your family time.”

“Not a problem. What’s up?”

“Jen confessed that Rodrigo Custodio had been at my house the day Abby was kidnapped. She said she was watching TV in the master bathroom and did not escort him out.”

“What?” Phil’s voice leapt an octave.

“Nineteen years old. She didn’t want to miss her soap opera.”

“Where is she right now? I need to take a statement.”

“She’s with me in the executive tower of Lystra Systems.” Dave blew his nose.

“What’s she doing there?”

“Long story, there was a fire at the data center. Instead of taking her statement, can you start researching Rodrigo Custodio? She said he had a flight to catch that afternoon to the Philippines to see his sick grandmother. The date was November 20, 2006. Check passenger lists on flights out of all local airports to the Philippines.”

“I’ll get right to it,” Phil said. “Didn’t the police follow up on a tip six years ago?”

“Maybe. But now we know the identity of the man.”

“I’ll do what I can. Remember, don’t read too much into this, okay?”

“I’ll try.” Dave had trouble catching his breath. Shooting pangs surged in his chest. “What if the girl in the photos is Abby? And somehow Rodrigo gave her to Patty Brown. I don’t get why.”

“Remember the years of therapy?” Phil’s voice was sympathetic. “I know you can’t help it, but refuse to speculate. I’m forwarding all leads to the police.”

“They said no police!”

“The police are already involved. Someone attacked Jen, kidnapped her, blew up your rental car and you don’t want the police?”

“Those events might not be related. They were after Jen for giving them bad code. Besides, both Rodrigo and Rey are dead. They can’t be behind the attacks.” Dave wiped his forehead and tugged his hair.

Phil cleared his throat. “The important thing is to investigate this lead. Bring her in for questioning tomorrow. And take care of yourself. Do you want to spend the night at my place? I can ask Beth to clear the guest room.”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Dave’s head throbbed. A band of pain stretched between his eyes and clamped around the back of his head.

He returned to the lounge. Jen had disappeared. He circled the floor and went to the lab. She sat in front of the console staring at the progress bars. Her shoulders shook, and she made small hiccupping sounds. The urge to comfort her was overwhelming.

He slid next to her. “My lawyer is following up on the lead. Thanks for telling me.”

She didn’t respond. Her swollen eyes were glued to the screen. She had been an overweight nineteen-year-old with low self-esteem. The boy had probably charmed her with the gift. Maybe even told her he liked her. He had read all her letters to Jocelyn. No one had ever been interested in her. She had gone to the junior prom with Jocelyn, and not a single boy asked her to dance. What had Jocelyn always told him about Jennifer? That she was loyal, kind and reliable. And her greatest fear was being abandoned. When her mother died, her father hadn’t attended the funeral. Even though his parents were divorced, he couldn’t imagine his own father not comforting him should anything happen to his mother.

He tapped her arm. “Hey, you saved the company today. Let’s call a cab and go home. Can you set an alarm when the transfer completes and text my cell?”

Her fingers glided over the keyboard, and she set up email notification. Wordlessly, they collected their things and exited the building.

* * *

Jen kept her eyes closed the entire ride to Dave’s house. A weight fell off her chest when he had spoken kindly to her. She curled to the edge of the bench seat of the taxi to minimize contact with him even while she desired it. How could she have left Abby unguarded? But the police cleared Rodrigo when she had called in an anonymous tip. So who could have taken her? Had Rodrigo seen anyone as he was leaving?

She had thought Rodrigo was the one. He’d been so sweet to her, tickling her jelly belly and telling her she was pleasingly plump. A fresh wave of agony assaulted her and she sighed.

They arrived at Dave’s home, and the cab driver opened the door.

Dave handed her the crutches and followed her to the guest room. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Jen avoided his gaze. “Thank you for being kind to me. I could never repay you.”

“No payment necessary. Good night.” He turned and headed up the stairs.

Jen set her crutches down and pulled the prepaid cell phone from under the pillow. She texted Christy. “Is everything okay? Jen.”

Christy texted back. “This isn’t your number. I called and a woman named Lisa answered.”

Jen texted. “We’ll talk later. Just wanted to check if you’re safe.”

Christy texted back. “Sure, mother hen. Good night. Cluck!”

Jen plugged the phone into the charger and shoved it under the pillow. After a shower, she found a pair of sweatpants and an old Stanford T-shirt to sleep in. She knelt at the bed and prayed, begging God to restore Abby to Dave and to forgive her of her sins. Then she lay awake, staring at the shadows cast on the ceiling by the table lamp. She wouldn’t sleep until the Black Friday build had been successfully deployed.

A faint knocking came from the door.

“Come in,” she said.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” Dave said.

“No. I’m waiting for midnight. Do you have your laptop?”

He sat on the edge of the bed dressed in grey sweatpants and a ripped T-shirt with the words “Alcatraz” slashed across it. “It’s on the kitchen table.”

“How much longer?”

“Another half hour. Want some spiced apple cider?”

“Sure.” A chill jiggled her shoulders. Why was he acting as if nothing had happened? How did he do it? Maybe that was what it took to be a CEO.

Dave returned and handed her a cup with a stick of cinnamon. “No alarms from the data center. Must mean everything’s okay.”

“I should have stayed to watch. What if something’s stuck?” The cider warmed her hands, and its sweetness dispelled the edge of her anxiety.

His eyes locked onto hers, and heat rose from her chest to her face. She took another sip, and then he moved her mug to the night table.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. Forgive me?” He smelled like soap, a splash of cologne, and temptation.

“I deserved it.” She pushed her hands under her legs, afraid she’d touch him.

“No, you didn’t.” He paused and sighed. “I read all your letters. I mean, I was looking for clues.”

“My letters to Jocelyn?”

He nodded. His fingers grazed her temple, removing her glasses. “I know you forgave her in seventh grade when she joined the popular crowd and they chased you home, throwing eggs at you. I know you forgave her when she replaced you as maid of honor because she thought you’d ruin the pictures.”

Jen sniffled and bit the insides of her lips. She had ruined more than pictures. She’d ruined Dave’s life!

“She never paid you all the hours you babysat Abby while she went to class. And she treated you as a servant. You were always there for her. Why?”