Deadly Dance (30 page)

“A definite win/win for the Consortium. Turns out my idea wasn’t so far-fetched after all.” Drake leaned back, his gaze encompassing them all.

“Yeah, well, it’s my past that brought this down on our heads,” Harrison said.

“Nonsense.” Avery shook his head. “If it hadn’t been you, it would have been one of us. We’ve all got serious shit in our backyards. You just happened to have something that they could use.”

“Yeah, but whatever’s going through Walker’s head, at least part of it is about avenging his brother. And there’s no denying the fact that I killed the kid.”

“You were defending yourself against a fleeing suspect,” Hannah stated, unable to keep herself from jumping to Harrison’s defense. “Any one of us would have done the same. This isn’t about anything except a psychopathic killer hired by an organization bent on the destruction of everything A-Tac stands for. Clearly, destroying A-Tac has become a full-time occupation for the Consortium.”

“Yeah well, this time it might just work,” Drake said, his fist clenched in anger. “With DuBois dead, there’s no one to rein this bastard in.”

“Except A-Tac,” Avery reminded them. “The one mistake the Consortium keeps making is to underestimate us.”

“So we prove them wrong again,” Simon said, determination coloring his voice. “We figure out where Walker has taken Tina Richards, and then we take him down.”

A
re you sure you’re all right?” Hannah asked, walking into the dining room to hand Harrison a beer.

He took a sip, standing at the window, watching the seemingly pastoral scene outside. It could be any neighborhood in America. Suburbia at its best. But instead, it housed a group of trained operatives. It was a life he’d chosen willingly. But sometimes, like today, he wondered about the cost.

“I’m fine.” He turned to face her, taking another sip of beer. In such a short time, she’d come to mean so much to him. Or maybe it had been that way from the beginning, and he just hadn’t been willing to admit as much. Either way, she had become an important part of his life.

And in return he’d put her in the middle of a nightmare.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she reminded him. “This isn’t your fault. None of it. You did what you had to all those years ago, and you couldn’t possibly have known that it would circle round like this. And even if you had,
you couldn’t have stopped it because you wouldn’t have known when or where Walker was going to strike.”

“But if I hadn’t come here—”

“Then the Consortium would have found another way. And Walker would still be waiting for his opening with you. And sooner or later, he’d probably have found it. So it doesn’t do any good to go through the ‘what ifs.’ Although that doesn’t mean it’s easy to stop either.” She reached up to brush her hand against his cheek. “When Jason was killed, I kept thinking of all the things I could have done that might have kept him out of his study that day. Things that would have kept him alive. But no matter how many times I pictured things playing out differently—Jason was still dead.”

“So how did you get past it?” he asked.

“Lara.” Her smile was bittersweet. “She’d been blaming herself, too. And together we realized that it wasn’t doing anyone any good. And it certainly wasn’t honoring Jason’s memory. The hard truth was that neither of us could change what happened. We just had to accept it for what it was and try to move on.”

“And how’s that working out for you?” he asked.

“Good days and bad days,” she said with a shrug, her smile twisting ruefully. “At least I know that Lara’s happy. She’s found her calling, I think, working at the clinic in South America. And she’s got Rafe now.”

“And what about you?” he asked, his heart feeling lighter. Being around Hannah seemed to have that effect on him. “Have you found someone?”

“I don’t know,” she teased, her blue eyes alight behind the tortoiseshell frames of her glasses. “The jury is still out on that one.”

“So maybe I need to give them something to think about,” he said, putting his bottle on the windowsill before pulling her close, his mouth slanting over hers as he bent to kiss her. Her scent surrounded him as he took possession of her lips. What had started as an affirmation quickly shifted to passion, desire supplanting all conscious thought.

Heat rocketed through him with the power of fission. What was it about Hannah? He touched her, and everything else disintegrated in the path of his overwhelming desire for her.

He trailed kisses along the line of her jaw and the soft skin of her neck. She trembled at the touch, and he smiled, his fingers caressing her breast through her shirt. She moaned, and he swallowed the sound, drinking her in. She tasted like beer and toothpaste. And he wasn’t certain he’d ever be able to get enough.

She pressed closer, the friction of their bodies moving together, ratcheting up both his need and his pleasure. Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, moving in circles against his back, his body tensing in anticipation as she pressed even closer.

Harrison marveled at the emotions rocketing through him. There was desire, certainly, more than he’d ever known, but there was so much more than that. There was a fierce possessiveness, a protective urge that he’d never felt before. And even more surprising, there was tenderness, the need to cherish and revere, his need almost unmanning him. He knew in that instant that he would give anything—do anything—if it would make her happy.

She arched against him, offering herself, and he
moved lower, his tongue circling one taut nipple beneath the thin material of her shirt, pulling it into his mouth and sucking, wanting nothing more than to take her here and now—thrusting deep into her heat.

Twining her fingers through his hair, she pulled his mouth back to hers, plunging her tongue deep inside. The motion both sensual and carnal. Then her hands slid lower and lower still, her fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans, his stomach muscles contracting as she brushed against the swollen length of his penis.

Urgency built within him, the physical pull between them so strong now it had become essential. Like breathing. God, he wanted this woman. With desire shimmering between them, he framed her face, pulling back to look at her—eyes heavy with passion, lips swollen from his kisses.

“I want you, Hannah,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

“I want you, too,” she answered, her breath caressing his cheek.

With a groan, he reached for her again, but somewhere in the kitchen behind them, something crashed to the floor.

In an instant, passion fled, and he grabbed the gun he’d laid on the dining room table, pushing her behind him, his only thought now to keep her safe. But Hannah, being Hannah, grabbed her own gun and was right behind him as he moved toward the kitchen door and the source of the noise.

He flanked the door, straining into the silence, listening for something to identify the source of the crash they’d heard. But the room was quiet, the only sound the hum of the computer array on the dining room table.

With a nod to Hannah, he swung into the kitchen. It was still swathed in shadows, the light from the dining room spilling out across the floor. He moved into the room, turning in a slow arc as he searched for something amiss.

Just as he started to relax, believing the coast to be clear, something launched itself at him, smashing against his shoulders, something sharp digging into his neck. He swung, connecting with whatever was attacking. Swearing, he pushed it away, all the while trying to align his gun for a shot, his neck stinging like crazy.

“Harrison, no,” Hannah called, her voice breaking through his crescendoing adrenaline. “It’s only the cat.”

He spun around, still clutching his gun, his gaze falling to the spitting ball of white fur pressed against the bottom of the refrigerator.

“Son of a bitch,” he said to no one in particular, pressing a hand to his neck, the raised welts there oozing blood. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“It’s Asha,” Hannah explained, lifting her hands in apology. “Tina’s cat. With so much going on, I forgot I asked one of the techs to bring him here. I think you scared him.”

“Yeah, well, we’re even,” Harrison said, pulse still pounding. “He scared the hell out of me, too.”

“I have to admit I was pretty freaked myself. I guess we’re all walking on eggshells.” She shivered as she reached down to pick up the still-terrified cat.

“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t anything more threatening,” Harrison said, reaching for a paper towel to blot the blood on his neck.

“You’re hurt,” she observed with a frown, still holding the now purring Asha.

“Cat’s definitely got some claws,” he agreed, feeling absurdly jealous as she stroked Asha. “And I get the definite feeling he’s not all that fond of me.”

“Sit down, let me clean you up.” She set Asha on the counter. “You don’t want to get an infection.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He sat at the breakfast bar while she got a first aid kit, ignoring the cat, who was licking his paws. “I guess now I know how Walker felt when Asha attacked him.”

“In that case, I wish the cat had done a lot worse, actually,” Hannah said, as she dabbed antibiotic ointment on the scratches. “But like we said before, there’s nothing to be gained by wishing things were different.”

“The best we can do now is try to figure out where he’s holding Tina,” Harrison agreed as he involuntarily glanced down at his watch.

“I know,” Hannah said, her face tightening as she put a Band-Aid on the worst of the scratches, “it’s already been six hours. We’re running out of time.”

As if to echo the thought, one of Harrison’s computers chirped to life in the dining room.

“That mean something?” she asked, shooting a look in the direction of the noise, her expression hopeful.

“Maybe,” he said, pushing off the barstool. “I’ve been running the recognition software I used to identify the house on Sapphire Lake. It’s a long shot, since there’s nothing obvious to triangulate off of, but I figured it was worth a try.”

He headed into the dining room, Hannah and the cat on his heels. He dropped down into the chair in front of the still-chirping computer, hitting a key to stop the noise.

“Damn it. It looks like it didn’t find anything.”

“Well, like you said, there wasn’t much to work with. He pretty much limited the video to a close-up of the bed and the wall behind it.”

“I know. No shadows, no identifying noises, no window. Nothing. It’s like, this time around, he really doesn’t want us to find him.”

“Except that every time he’s sent a video he’s left a clue. So it’s got to be there somewhere. We’re just not seeing it.”

“Maybe it’s in the details,” he said, queueing the video again as she took a seat next to him. “With Sara’s murder it was all about the window. And with Jasmine’s it was sound. So what the hell is it this time? What does he want us to find?”

He hit play, and Hannah reached for his hand, her eyes locked on the monitor. It wasn’t any easier to watch this time, and he couldn’t stop himself from checking on her every few minutes, but even when she flinched, her expression was resolute. This was the best way to find Tina, and she knew it as well as he did.

“You filtered for sound, right?” she asked as it came to an end.

“Yes, and like I said, nothing stood out. The was very little background noise.”

“Which in and of itself should tell us something,” she said, her mouth pursed as she considered the options. “We know there’s screaming. Which means that there can’t be another house close by or someone would hear her. And there’s no highway noise or railroad traffic. Which rules out the busier areas of town. It’s doubtful that he’d go back to the lake. We’ve got people watching.”

“We know that he’s partial to houses,” Harrison
continued the train of thought, “and seems to prefer a cellar, even if he’s just mimicking the cyber killer.”

“Although he’s fallen off the script, so maybe that’s changed as well.” Hannah frowned, still staring at the screen. “Can you start it again and then freeze it when the bed is in the center of the frame?”

He hit the button and fast-forwarded until it reached the point she’d requested.

“Good, now can you focus in on the wall behind the bed? The whole thing, only larger if you can do that.”

He manipulated the image so that only the top of Tina’s head was visible, the screen filled instead with the headboard and the wall behind it.

“It’s just what you said before,” Harrison shook his head, “white-painted wallboard.”

“Yes, but there’s something off about it. The perspective seems skewed.”

He moved forward frame by frame, but there was nothing to see except white walls. “I don’t know what you’re seeing.” He shook his head, fighting the feeling that time was running out.

“Wait a minute,” Hannah said, leaning forward for a better view. “Can you pan out again?”

“Sure.” He entered a command, and the entire picture appeared again, Tina unsuccessfully trying to move away from Walker as he threatened her with the knife.

“There,” Hannah said, pointing to the far left of the picture. “And there.” She pointed to the far right. “There’s a shift in shading. A shadow, if you will.”