Snapped (30 page)

“Had,” Sean said.

“Excuse me?”

“He
had
the engineering background. Before he was killed.”

“Yes, well …” Maxwell floundered. “These college kids have a feel for what people want. A finger on the pulse of the market, you could say. That’s why we hire them, and sometimes offer them jobs after graduation.”

“How about an example?” Allison asked. “For someone who
doesn’t
have her finger on the pulse of all that.”

“Well, for instance, say you’re driving past a movie theater on the evening the new Matt damon movie comes out.” Maxwell leaned his elbows on his knees, warming to the topic. “You’ve used your phone in the past to look up movie times for some of the Jason Bourne films, so we know you’re a fan of the actor.”

“You do?”

“Our software stores the information digitally. Anyway, so now you’re driving by this theater, and the GPS on your phone sends a message to our software, which in turn checks the movie listings and overlaps
that
with your past movie preferences, and
ping
.”

“Ping?”

“You get an e-mail letting you know it’s opening night for a movie you might want to see. You can even buy your tickets with a few keystrokes.”

It sounded invasive to Allison. “And what if you don’t want to be ‘pinged’ with this advertising?”

“Some people don’t, which is why it’s optional. If you don’t want it, simply set the preferences on your phone to block the capability.”

Allison jotted some notes. “So Eric was working on this?”

“Well, this particular feature isn’t really new. He was working on some added functionality. Along with the rest of his team.”

“And was any of this sensitive?” Allison asked. “The stuff Eric was working on?”

“He was a college junior, Detective.”

She looked at him expectantly.

“In other words, no. We don’t let our interns have access to sensitive projects.”

An electronic bell chimed. Allison glanced around for the source of the noise as a baritone voice came over an intercom.

“Your nine o’clock appointment is here, sir,” the security guard announced.

Maxwell smiled and stood up. “That takes care of your questions, I hope?”

Allison traded looks with Sean. They were being dismissed. And she’d bet a thousand dollars this appointment was as phony as Maxwell’s persona.

The guard was waiting in the reception room to escort them back to the exit. He took a route that bypassed the lobby, depriving Allison of the chance to get a look at Maxwell’s nine o’clock.

They exited the glass-and-steel building and walked silently to the parking lot, where Sean had parked his battered Buick within dinging distance of the silver Land Rover that probably belonged to Maxwell.

“What did you think?” Allison asked as Sean started the car. It was a hundred thousand degrees, and she reached over to crank up the A/C.

“Interesting.”

She sighed. “You want to be more specific?”

“He didn’t like us there.”

“I got that part. The question is, why?”

“I don’t know.”

Sean pulled out of the lot while Allison looked out her window, admiring the landscaped office park with its hike-and-bike trails. Twenty acres on a hill overlooking the lake. D-Systems had to be doing well.

She looked at Sean. “That software they make—sounds very Big Brother.”

“Yep.” He glanced at her. “You know what D-Systems stands for, don’t you?”

She waited.

“Defense Systems. Their original name, back in the eighties. They were founded to do top-secret projects for the Pentagon, but funding dried up after the Cold War. They changed their name and started developing software and technology for the American consumer. Much more lucrative.”

She looked at him, impressed. “You’ve checked into this.”

“I’m an investigator.” He slanted a look at her. “That’s what I do.”

“So, you think Eric was on to some top-secret project? Seems unlikely. I mean, he was an intern making four hundred bucks a week. He probably would have been a nobody over there if his death hadn’t made headlines.”

“Just think it’s interesting.”

Allison drummed her fingers on the door beside her. “You know, it isn’t what he said that bothers me, so much as what he didn’t.”

“How do you mean?”

“Maxwell didn’t make a single comment about our case,” she said. “To most people, our investigation ended when Himmel put that gun in his mouth. So, why are we still going around asking questions about the victims?”
She gazed out at the lake. “Just strikes me as weird, that’s all. He didn’t seem all that surprised to see us.”

Maxwell watched the Buick wind its way up the drive. He took out his phone and dialed the number he’d been given for emergencies.

“The police were just here,” Maxwell said.

Silence.

“Well?”

“What did you tell them?” Sharpe asked.

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t insult me,” Maxwell said. “But they were here, and I didn’t like their questions.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Goddamn it, this is getting out of control!”

“I’ll take care of it,” he repeated, and the line went dead.

Sophie woke in an empty room. It was eerily quiet, but darker than it had been the day before. The curtains were drawn. Her clothes were strewn across the floor. Jonah’s gun was gone from its place on the nightstand, and she felt a spurt of panic.

She heard the door click, and he stepped in carrying a cardboard coffee cup in each hand and a small sack between his teeth. Sophie sat up. He deposited the cups on the dresser and tossed her the bag.

“Breakfast,” he said.

She put the bag on the nightstand without looking inside, then tucked the sheet under her arms as she eyed him critically. He was in the clothes he’d worn yesterday,
including the holster. He didn’t look at all like someone who planned to hit the beach today.

He checked his cell phone, muttered something, and stuffed it back in his pocket. Then he looked at her. “We need to get going.”

“Where are you going?”

“
We
are going back to San Marcos.”

Calmly, she slipped out of bed and picked up her sarong. She wrapped it around herself like a towel before striding toward the bathroom.

“
I’m
going to the beach today.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Have a safe trip.” She started to close the door on him, but he stuck his boot in the opening.

She snatched her toothbrush off the counter, turned on the faucet, and started brushing her teeth. Jonah squeezed his way into the minuscule bathroom and stood behind her.

“Do you mind?” She bumped him back so she could bend down to spit into the sink.

A swift snap, and the sarong disappeared.

“Hey!” She glared at him over her shoulder, but he was too busy looking at her in the mirror. He lifted her arms up and examined her body. The bruises had taken on a sickly green hue, and Sophie pulled her arms down.

“How are you feeling?”

The concern in his voice made her stomach flutter. “I’m fine.”

“Did you take one of your pills?”

“Not yet.”

He disappeared into the bedroom and came back with a cup of coffee. He held a blue pill in his big palm.

“Thank you.”

She downed it with a sip of coffee, reconsidering her strategy. He was acting all sensitive now, and it was going to be tougher to argue with him—which was probably why he was doing it.

His hands settled on her hips, and his gaze met hers in the mirror.

“I understand why you came down here,” he said.

She didn’t reply.

“You’re freaked out, and you needed to pull it together. I was mad at first, but I get it now.” He looked at her steadily. “You
should
be freaked out, Sophie. Someone planted a bomb in your car.”

Her stomach clenched. “Is that confirmed?”

“As of this morning, yes. They found traces of residue at the crash scene. The explosion was intentional.”

“I could have told you that. I
did
tell you. I told everyone there—that person
ran
me off the road.”

Jonah nodded. “Probably the same person who drove Jim Himmel’s car to campus. This person left it there, along with a box full of extra equipment—a knife, a gun, grenades—that Himmel never intended to use. This is the person you saw, Sophie. He wants to emphasize the whole idea of the crazed gunman up there shooting people at random before killing himself. But there was nothing random about it. It was a targeted hit.”

Sophie watched him in the mirror. A lump formed in her throat. He was talking to her candidly, like a real person, not some outsider who couldn’t be let in on any information.

And he believed her.

“Who was the target?” she asked.

“We’ve got some ideas on that. You can help us.”

“
I
can?” She turned to look at him over her shoulder.

“I’ve got you an appointment with a forensic artist today at one o’clock. She’s the one who did the postmortem drawing of Himmel.”

“But—”

“She’s the best there is, and Reynolds offered to spring for the expense. The task force needs your input, Sophie. If you saw anything, even briefly, this artist can probably get a sketch.” He waited a beat. “It would really help the investigation.”

“It would also help you get me up to your
deer
lease.” She turned to face him, grabbing a towel off the rack as she did so because it felt strange having this conversation while she was naked and he was fully dressed. She leaned back against the sink and held the towel over herself.

He looked annoyed by her sudden modesty. “What have you got against a deer lease, anyway? I can come out there at night when I get off work. And compared to this rat hole, it’s practically a resort.”

“I don’t care about that,” she said, although she did. Her father and brothers had a deer lease, and
primitive
was an understatement. “It’s your dad.”

Jonah’s brow furrowed. “What about him?”

“I met him the other day at your house. Didn’t he tell you? He came by with his
tomatoes
, Jonah.”

“So?” He looked baffled.

“He’s retired. He’s
old
. And he’s so sweet and— Why are you laughing?”

Jonah leaned back against the wall, silently cracking up.

“What?” she demanded.

He squeezed his eyes shut and laughed so hard, she thought he was going to cry. “You’re worried about my
father
?”

“Yes! What is wrong with you? He’s
elderly
, Jonah! How can you ask him to go out to some deer lease in the hundred-degree heat and sit around guarding me from a hit man? It’s a terrible plan! I can’t believe you thought of it!”

“Sophie.” He pulled her against him. “Let me tell you about my dad, okay? First off, he’s a cop. He’s retired now, but he’ll always be a cop. Second, he’s a lifelong gun collector and a crack shot to boot.” He grinned down at her. “I can’t believe you called him ‘sweet,’ though. Don’t say that to his face.”

“Jonah—”

“Anyway, I trust him.” The smile faded, and he looked serious now. “There’s no better person to keep an eye on you while I work on this case—with the help of the suspect sketch that you’re going to provide for us”—he jerked his phone out of his pocket and checked the clock—“in about four hours.” He slapped her butt. “Better get a move on if you want a shower. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

She stared up at him, frustrated beyond words. They were leaving. She was going with him. She was going to do the exact thing she’d told him she
wouldn’t
do at least half a dozen times.

The task force wanted her help. They needed it. Instead of treating her like a crazy woman, they actually believed her and wanted her input.

And Jonah had known all along this was his ace in the
hole. She cared about those victims. She’d been a victim herself, and he knew she’d do anything to find the man who’d helped take three innocent lives.

He swatted her butt again, and she caught the glint of triumph in his eyes. “Hop to it, Sophie. We don’t want to be late for your appointment.”

“Fine.” She shrugged. “I’ll meet with the artist. You mind getting out of here? I’d like to shower, please.”

“So you’ll come?” He looked wary as he stepped out of the bathroom.

“I said I would.” She shut the door almost all the way but then poked her head out. “Oh, but I should tell you up front. You’ll be pulling up to the self-serve from now on, because there is
no
way I’m having sex with you at some deer lease while your father’s just a stone’s throw away.”

She slammed the door on his startled expression and stepped into the shower.

The forensic artist lived in Austin, and Sophie wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to waste her Saturday afternoon driving down to San Marcos to do a sketch with someone who’d barely seen anything.