Mica (Rebel Wayfarers MC) (22 page)

Daniel was taken aback by the vehemence in her voice. Not being one to back down from a challenge, he took a step away from the doorway and towards her. “I am not just
some guy
, Jess. I like Mica. I like her a lot, and I think there’s something going on here that I can help with. So I’m not going away, and your little hissy fit doesn’t prove anything.” He rubbed the back of one hand across his mouth. “I mean…seriously? What the hell, Jess? I walk in, and you guys are looking at pictures of private moments and horrible events like they were nothing, like they
meant
nothing. Are they simply images to wallpaper the office with?” He took a deep breath. “Could you please tell me what is going on? Because I gotta tell you, this has been a weird fucking morning.” They stood staring at each other for a couple of minutes, not talking.

Mica walked back into the conference room with a tray that held four cups of coffee and a small plate of mini-cupcakes. She announced, “I’m sitting; you can both stand if you want. Jess, hand me your phone, please.” Reaching out for the device, she attached it to the projector again. Turning them both on, she took one of the coffee cups in-hand, faced the wall, and asked, “Is Mason coming?”

“Mason’s here, babe,” came the deep reply as he walked into the room. He moved to stand behind her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders, his leather jacket creaking with his movements. “Jess, you called. What’s up?”

Daniel watched with jealousy as Mica relaxed into Mason’s hands. She reached up to touch one of them with her fingertips, and tilted her head to trap it momentarily between her cheek and shoulder.

Mica answered the question. “Jess and I have acquired some photos that are seriously odd, Mason. I want to know what both you and Daniel think of them.” Wriggling her forefinger at the remaining cups on the tray, she looked at Jess until she got the idea and distributed the coffee around the table. Jess popped one of the mini-cupcakes into her mouth. She sat another one pointedly in front of Mica, who snatched it up and ate it, still looking at Jess, asking snarkily, “Better?” Breaking the glare, she reached a hand out towards Daniel and pointed to the chair behind Jess. “Sit if you want to, but here we go.”

She pulled up the pictures Jess had taken of the screen, starting with the very first one—a simple one of her getting out of her car. “This morning, Jess and I had connected to a screen-share conference a little early. These photos started showing up on the computer screen as we were waiting to dial in on the phone. Jess had enough sense about her to take snapshots of the pictures, and that’s what we are looking at—not the real photos, but pictures of the images projected. Actually, we are looking at projections of the projected images.” A near-hysterical giggle tried to surface, but she fought it back down.

She shook her head, clearly trying to focus. “As best as I can tell, this one was taken several weeks ago. It’s from outside Jackson’s at lunchtime, as I headed in for food.” She looked around the table; Mason was the only one still standing. As his fingers tightened reflexively on her shoulders, she realized he wasn’t going to let go unless she made him. “Mason, can you sit please? I’m a little freaked out here.”

Turning, she changed the picture, and this was the one of her in the alley. It had been taken just as the attack started. “These are in chronological order, based on my memory. This picture and two more are from the alley, the day of the attack.” She flicked forward to the picture of Mason standing in front of and protecting her. “This is from near the end of the event.” She took a deep breath. After pausing for a moment on that image, she then flicked again to the one of Daniel carrying her. “This is the end; Daniel is about to put me in his car.” Other than her voice and the whirring of the projector fan, there was deep silence in the room.

“These were taken at the hospital.” She quickly flicked through two more photos. “These are from that night at Jackson’s, when I met you there, Daniel. They are taken from inside the bar, looks like across the room near the pool tables,” she explained as her thumb took them through more photos. “I’m not sure of the day for this one; I spend a fair bit of time on that window seat,” she said, flicking to the picture of her looking into the camera lens without knowing she was doing so.

“These are from the day of Mason’s party,”
flick,
“Mason’s car at the curb, downtown Chicago,” flick, “carrying in the groceries,”
flick,
“my back porch,”
flick
, “and Mason going home.”
Flick.
“Then, this one was from only 20 minutes before we saw these pictures up on the screen. It was taken just outside this office, but I didn’t see anyone there.”

“That’s it; those are all the photos we have. There were more, earlier, just of me going about my life. Any ideas about any of this? Because I’m about to really lose it. Some of the pictures are taken up close; some of them are from far away. Apparently, the photographer was in my hospital room while I was unconscious, and it’s not lost on me that he’s been to every place that is important to me.”

“My home, my work, my favorite bar,” she grimaced, “he’s taken photos of things that are hard for me to remember,” stealing a glance at Daniel, “and things I don’t want to forget.”

She was quiet for a moment, and then she laughed and shuddered. Daniel saw the strain in her face and heard it in her voice. He looked at Mason, and saw him looking straight at him. He was thinking he would have to own up to Mica about what he had done, but he knew Steve hadn’t taken any photos of her, so these weren’t because of his stupidity.

Making a quick decision, Daniel took out his phone and called Nate. “Hey, Nate, it’s me. Can you check the gear for me, and then make sure it gets to staging for the trip? I’ll meet you in Milwaukee tonight, but I won’t be on the bus.” Hanging up, he took a deep breath.

“Mica, do you remember my friends from Jackson’s? When we came in the night of the game? One of them, Steve Lebuvar, he’s a reporter. He was standing up at the bar that night,” Daniel thought wildly of how best to introduce the fact he had asked Steve to look into her background. “I…uh…I liked you a lot that night…I like you a lot now…really a lot.” He paused. “Mica, you need to know that I’ve been burned in the past by women who weren’t what they seemed,” he paused again, “and I simply wanted to know if there were any problems that would scare me off before I got too close to you. So, I asked Steve to get me some limited background on you.”

Looking across the table at her face, he saw the skin around her eyes go white with tension, but she held his gaze and nodded, so he continued, “He did some shallow investigation, and during that, he found there was already a P.I. investigating you, and it was not anyone he knew. It was not someone from Chicago.”

Jess twisted her chair around and kicked him in the knee with her bare toes, “Seriously? You wanted a background check? On Mica? What the hell is your problem, man? Invasive much?”

Ignoring Jess, he went on, “I can guarantee you Steve didn’t take any photos of you. I didn’t talk to him until the morning after the party at Mason’s.” His voice softened. “I talked to him after I didn’t want to leave you…after our kiss.” He took in a breath. “I don’t know who took these photos, but Mica, they are at best unpleasant, and at worst, honestly, really disturbing. I can’t believe whoever it is saw the attack and did nothing.” Daniel’s speech slowed. “The investigator seems to be from the south, and as soon as Steve told me about it, I asked him to find out what he could about the guy. I should know more by tonight. I was talking to Mason earlier today, bringing him up to speed so we could put our heads together on everything. I was on my way over here to talk to you about it, when I saw the pictures on the screen.”

He stopped talking, watching Mica slowly turn a sick shade of gray. Her mouth dropped open; it looked like she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs, and she’d started shaking. “Mica, are you okay?” His stomach dropped as he stood and hurried around the table. He went down on one knee, reaching for and holding her hand on top of her thigh. Her leg was shaking, and he wrapped his other palm around her calf, stroking up and down slowly. Mason stretched out and took her other hand in his as he pushed his chair closer, and the two men knelt beside her. Their calm presence was physically bracketing her with quiet assurance and support, allowing her to slowly regain her composure.

Daniel looked across her to Mason, surprised at how good he felt when he saw Mason’s approving chin lift. He liked these people, and wanted them to think the best of him, and he felt that this was an appalling start. Promising himself he would do better by Mica, he steadily held her eyes with his. Lips tilting up in a smile at her, he was glad she was calming down. He was also very impressed with how well she had handled this so far. Thinking through the whole thing, he had an idea, and without considering how it would sound, he just blurted it out.

“Mica, I don’t think you should be alone until we figure this out. Why don’t you come to Milwaukee with me for a few days? My hockey team is playing there on Saturday, and I’ll be stuck there until Sunday. The hotel room is a suite, so there’s plenty of space. You could bring your computer and work, or you could hang out with the team. Shoot, go shopping if you want—it would be entirely up to you. You could even come watch the game if you like.

“I came here because I needed to tell you what I had done, and if you found it in your heart to forgive me, I intended to ask you to the game Saturday, and then out on a dinner date. Given the circumstances, allowing for a date seems silly right now.” He stopped talking for a second, and then looking down at her, he repeated, “Seriously, there’s plenty of room in the suite; you won’t even know I’m there. Bring a guest if you want, it’s…fine. Whatever you want is fine, Mica.”

Mica smiled at him, nodding her head slowly. “I’d like to have dinner with you, if the date offer is still on the table.” And just like that, he was stunned into silence.

Mason broke the moment, his voice dangerously quiet, “I think you are forgetting something, babe—the name. The name of whoever’s fucking computer you were watching when you saw the pictures, that’s where we start right the fuck now.” Mica was silent, looking at Daniel, and then at him. Turning to glare at Jess, Mason said, “You know who it is, and you better tell me now, Jess. Tell me before…just tell me.” His voice ground to a halt. She shook her head at him, looking over at Mica in a mute plea of help.

Daniel gaped at Mason; he hadn’t seen that obvious fact that Mica had been very careful not to tell them who had the pictures, but she had to know who it was, given the situation. He wondered who she’d protect like that, and if was she protecting them from him or him from Mason.

Mica wriggled her fingers, disengaging both hands from the two men. “I know, Mason. Believe me—I want to talk to him too. Why don’t we all go together so we can find out what is going on? But—and this is a serious but, Mason—you only get to come along if you promise you will let me handle this. This is my deal. This is my shit leaking all over. These are pictures of my life, and I want to know why Gentry Dalton has them, who gave them to him, and to what end.”

***

The four of them discussed what their approach with Gentry should be. Daniel and Mason, unsurprisingly, were pretty adamant that there be blood and fear involved. Mica wanted to go against Mason’s wishes and advocated for a carefully chosen, non-violent plan. They were packing up in preparation for the confrontation when the door to the office opened.

Thomas Donnelly strolled into the office like he owned the place, jerking to a stop when he saw the scene in front of him. He stood still, taking in how Daniel’s hand was resting low on Mica’s back as they stood with their heads close together. Mason was a bit closer to the door, his shoulders stiff as he looked across the room at the new arrival.

Taking a deep breath, Mica moved away from Daniel and across the space towards Donnelly, her hand out to shake in greeting. “Mr. Donnelly, what a surprise. I didn’t know we had a meeting set-up today. I’m sorry; I’m not ready for a demo yet. I have a few hours of work on the software yet to do.”

“Well, isn’t this interesting?” He chuckled, rudely ignoring Mica and her outstretched hand. “I came by for a project update, and I find the soon-to-be previous owner of my hockey team.”

“Donnelly,” Daniel said by way of greeting, “still not selling the team to you, sorry to disappoint.”

Donnelly smirked at him. “Rupert, I didn’t know you used MishMash for your web work. They do a good job; you’ll be pleased I’m sure. Smart choice, the team’s website sucked ass the last time I looked at it; it’s about time for an update there, just like the team ownership. Will you be in Milwaukee for the game?” He paused, and asked slyly, “Will Amy?”

Not giving Daniel time to respond, he reached out and took Mica’s hand from where it had settled down by her side, pulling her closer towards him. “I think I’d like to take you to the game, Michaela.”

Both Daniel and Mason bristled at his words, but Mica gently slipped her hand free, stepping slightly away from him, “Thank you, Mr. Donnelly, but I have other plans. I’ll call your assistant in a few days. I should be ready to demo the software by midweek. Thank you again for coming by, and I do appreciate your recommendation of my skills and services to Mr. Rupert.” She opened the door, clearly expecting him to head out.

Nodding at Daniel, whose face had darkened during the exchange, Donnelly turned and took Mica’s hand again. “Think about the game, Michaela. Call me.” Looking back at the group, he smirked and walked to the elevator, which pinged immediately and opened.