“They make you look very smart.”
It’s a coincidence, she told herself. That’s all it is.
Her phone chimed again. You have one new message.
Kate clicked over to her account, her finger shaking slightly.
Please don’t delete your account. I’ll wait.
Wait for what? Wait until she figured it out? She set the phone on the coffee table and leaned away from it, hugging her knees to her chest. Believing the messages had anything to do with Ian was a dangerous line of thinking and would rip off the scab that had only recently formed over her grief. Did she think he had somehow figured out how to communicate from the grave?
I’ll wait.
For my eyes only.
Rion Bodoh
The name stumped her even more than the glasses. It was too odd not to have significance. There was something she was supposed to see.
She stared at the name.
Rion Bodoh.
When she clicked over to her account preferences, they’d been turned off again. Whoever was sending the messages no longer wanted an e-mail alert to accompany them.
That night, when Kate was lying in bed wide-awake, it came to her so suddenly she couldn’t believe she hadn’t been able to see it before. Her heart thundered in her chest and goose bumps covered every inch of her skin.
Please don’t be wrong, please don’t be wrong, please don’t be wrong.
She threw back the covers and ran into the living room, turning on the lights on her way. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, crossing out each letter as she wrote them down in a new order.
Rion Bodoh.
Robin Hood.
Kate’s spirits soared and she began to cry.
After a sleepless night and a call to Helena to let her know she’d be in around eleven, Kate arrived at the storage facility in Bloomington shortly before nine o’clock. A little voice inside her head warned that if she was mistaken, or worse yet—if this was some kind of trick—the agony she would experience would be ten times harder to bear than the initial news of Ian’s death. But her hope was a snowball rolling downhill, gaining speed and momentum and strength, and she was powerless to stop it.
She walked through the front door of the storage facility wearing a pencil skirt, a push-up bra, and high heels. She carried a leather satchel.
The young man behind the counter looked about nineteen and very bored, but he perked up a little when she took off her coat, revealing a blouse that had one button too many undone.
“Good morning,” she said. In a matter-of-fact tone, she pulled a sheaf of papers from the satchel and clicked open a ballpoint pen. “I need a copy of a rental agreement. The name is Ian Merrick. M-E-R-R-I-C-K. Do you have that name in your system?”
He typed the name into his computer and looked up.
Bingo, Kate thought.
“I’m working to settle Mr. Merrick’s estate. If I can get a copy of that agreement, I can move forward. You can imagine how comforting that would be for Mr. Merrick’s family.”
“I can’t give it to you. Our records have to be subpoenaed. People store stuff here they don’t want anyone to know about. We can’t just give out that information.”
“Yes I know. I’m an attorney.” Kate pulled one of her old business cards out of her satchel and held it up just long enough for him to see the writing. “But waiting on the proper forms so I can draft the subpoena is something I don’t have time for. The family is devastated, as you can imagine.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I still can’t give it to you. I could lose my job if I don’t follow the rules.”
Kate looked into his eyes, holding his gaze a beat longer than necessary. When she slid the business card back into her satchel, her elbow knocked a rack of brochures off the counter and they scattered on the floor.
“I’m so sorry. I guess I can tell what kind of day it’s going to be.” She crouched down to pick them up.
“No big deal.” He came out from behind the counter to help her pick them up, stealing a good long look down her gaping blouse in the process.
“You can probably get that subpoena, right? Seeing as you’re an attorney and all? I feel bad that I can’t help you.”
“It’s okay. I’m sure your adherence to company policy is one of the things that make you such a valued employee. How long have you been in charge here?”
“Almost a year,” he said. “I’m not really in charge. Not yet anyway.”
Kate smiled. “It probably won’t be long until you are. They’ve undoubtedly taken notice of your dedication.”
He stood up and put the brochure rack back on the counter. “You’re a lot nicer than that guy who came in here asking questions,” he blurted.
“Was he rude to you?” Kate’s tone was sympathetic, caring. She leaned against the counter as if she wasn’t in a hurry to leave.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle. I know everything that goes on around here, but I didn’t feel like telling him on account of what a dick he was being to me.”
“What did he want to know?”
“He wanted to know when the FBI had come for Mr. Merrick’s other car. The one he left in the parking lot while he was out driving that cool old car. That’s when I knew he was crazy. They’d barely pulled the body out of the river at that point. Why would the FBI be interested in a car accident, you know? That didn’t make any sense.”
Kate kept her expression neutral. “That does seem a little odd. Was he dressed like me? Maybe he was from the insurance company or something.”
“He was just some punk wearing ripped jeans and a hoodie.”
Her pulse quickened. “A purple one? Vikings fan, maybe?”
“No. Gray I think. Or maybe it was black.”
“Thank you for your time today.” She rested a hand on his arm. “You’ve been very helpful.”
He stood a little taller. “You’re welcome. You can come back if you need anything else. I’m here all the time.”
She smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Bye now.”
Kate had never been interested in the rental agreement. There was nothing on it that would help her, nothing she even remotely cared about knowing. She’d just needed an excuse to start a conversation. Because if anyone outside the FBI had shown up, it likely meant Ian’s cover had been blown and there was enough doubt surrounding his death to warrant a visit. And it was any mention of another person who’d been nosing around, especially someone who might have been a hacker, that she’d been after from the start.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Back at her apartment, Kate kicked off her shoes and rubbed her temples.
For my eyes only.
The glasses had definitely been his way of helping her figure out who the messages were from. But the picture itself must have been his way of telling her to use caution regarding their communication. If Ian was contacting her via her dating account, did it mean he’d been hacked? Was this the only secure connection between them? She supposed he could have used the cell phone he’d given her if she hadn’t thrown it in the river.
She thought back to the days leading up to Ian’s death. The way his phone had pinged on the way to lunch. The problem he’d mentioned not being sure how to solve. She remembered how desperate he’d seemed when they’d made love and what he’d said afterward.
Don’t ever lose faith in me.
Maybe she’d misunderstood him. Maybe he’d been trying to prepare her for a future event. Kate began to question things. Why was the tracking turned off on his phone? Why had he taken the Shelby out when he knew the roads would be bad?
She logged on to her dating account and drafted her reply carefully:
The glasses do make me feel very smart. I’m able to understand things so much better when I’m wearing them.
She waited thirty seconds and refreshed the screen. A new message appeared, its header bolded to signify it hadn’t been opened yet. Kate clicked on the message.
Smart and beautif
ul. Promise me you’ll wear the glasses on our date.
Kate’s heart was thumping when she replied.
You seem very nice, but I’m not interested in going on a date. I recently lost someone very important to me. He was the love of my life, and I’m still mourning him. I’m sorry.
She waited two minutes and refreshed the screen.
I completely understand that you’re not ready for another romantic entanglement, but maybe we could go to lunch. I happen to know of a restaurant that serves the best charcuterie in Minneapolis.
Mentioning the charcuterie was Ian’s way of assuring her it was really him. Tears ran down Kate’s face as she typed her reply.
I suppose lunch wouldn’t hurt.
He sent a reply immediately.
I predict you’ll be so taken with me you’ll be more than willing to move on to the next stage. I have that effect on women.
Kate typed her response: You seem very confident. If you’re so successful with women, why are you single?
I’m currently between lovers.
She wiped away tears.
I see. Kate wanted him to know that she understood.
I knew you would.
Kate knew he must have a plan but that it would need to be revealed carefully.
What would happen if things were to go well on our first few dates?
He replied immediately.
I was hoping you would ask. If things go well, maybe you’d consider a romantic weekend away. We could board a private plane on a Saturday afternoon and go someplace where we could be alone.
A Saturday afternoon.
Kate was fairly certain he meant for her to meet him at the airstrip this Saturday. As in, two days from now.
What if I’m afraid to take this step? I’ve been hurt very badly.
She refreshed the screen.
Please know that everything is under control. I would never harm you, Katie. Never. So I’ll see you on Saturday? Around two?
Yes. I’ll be ready.
Make a couple of stops on the way and take a cab.
His message threw her for a minute, but then she realized what he meant—shake whoever might be following you—and fear gripped her.
I understand.
She took a deep breath, and when she refreshed the screen, the messages were gone. That night, when she finally fell asleep after lying there for hours, all her dreams were of him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
On Saturday, Kate pulled a large tote bag from the top shelf of her closet. She placed her wallet, keys, phone, a few toiletries, and a change of clothes inside it. Time seemed to drag, but at one thirty she walked to Wilde Roast Café—fighting the urge to look over her shoulder the whole way—and ordered a sandwich. She was trembling slightly and didn’t dare order anything containing caffeine to go along with her food. Fifteen minutes later, after forcing down as much of her meal as she could, Kate paid the check. She exited the restaurant and walked slowly down the street as if she had no particular place to be. After ducking into the tunnel that linked SE Main Street with the St. Anthony Falls parking ramp, she took out her phone and called a cab, waiting just inside the ramp’s exit onto Second Street until it pulled to a stop at the curb. Then she walked quickly to the waiting car and slid into the back seat.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
She gave him the address of the airstrip and tried to calm her breathing.
The plane was sitting on the tarmac when they pulled into the parking lot, the same one she’d seen Ian get into when she’d dropped him off. Still she hesitated. What if it wasn’t him?
“This is your stop, miss,” the driver said.
“I know. Give me a minute please.” With shaking hands, Kate dug her phone out of her bag and sent a message via the dating site.
I’m not sure if I should meet you today. What if it’s a mistake to go out with you?
Her stomach was in knots, and she thought the sandwich might have been a bad idea.
It isn’t. I promise. Just get out of the car. You can do this. I’m waiting for you.
Kate took a deep breath and let it out. The only thing standing between them was her fear. She handed the money to the driver and gripped the door handle, throwing it open. Committed now, she strode across the parking lot and through the open gate. She faltered a bit on the tarmac because there was no one waiting in the open door of the airplane.
I’ll stop at the top. I won’t get on the plane if I don’t see him.
Slowly she climbed the stairs, heart pounding. Too many emotions were competing for Kate’s attention. There was fear and anxiety, but most of all there was hope. That’s where she drew the courage to climb the final step and peer around the opening of the plane.
And there he was, standing there like some kind of ghost.
He lunged toward her and caught her right as her knees buckled. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to his body as she broke down, sobbing hysterically.
“Please don’t hate me,” he said, holding her so tightly it hurt, as if he was trying to meld her body to his.
She didn’t mind the pain because it grounded her and proved to her this was real. He lowered them into a seat, and she curled into a ball on his lap, her face pressed into his chest, fisting his T-shirt tightly in her hands. She couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t still the massive shaking of her body.
“What’s happening to her, Phillip?” Ian said.
“Just give her a minute,” a voice said somewhere off to her right.
“Sweetness, I’m sorry,” Ian said rubbing her back.
“Kate, my name is Phillip Corcoran. I work for the FBI, and I’m a friend of Ian’s. You’re safe, and everything is going to be okay. I want you to take a few slow, deep breaths.”
The words and the tone in which Phillip had delivered them helped to calm her a little. Ian’s arms were still wrapped tightly around her, but he loosened them slightly, allowing her to inhale fully. The smell of him, still so familiar to her, filled her nose as she breathed in. She nuzzled her face into his neck, feeling his warm skin against her lips as he stroked her hair.
“Everything’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m right here.” He held her for a long time, neither of them speaking, until gradually her shaking subsided. The shock and adrenaline rush had left her physically exhausted.
“The pilot is ready to take off,” Phillip said. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to buckle her into her own seat.”
“No,” Ian said, holding her tighter.
He didn’t let go of her when they taxied down the runway or when the plane rose into the air. He never stopped rubbing his hands up and down her back, and he whispered in her ear, telling her he loved her, telling her how much he’d missed her.
Kate had never been so emotionally spent in her life. Though she tried, she couldn’t hold her eyes open, and she fell asleep in his arms.
The slight thumping of the wheels making contact with the runway roused Kate from an exhilarating dream in which Ian was alive.
Except that it wasn’t a dream because Ian was holding her on his lap, and the first thing he did when she opened her eyes was kiss her gently on the forehead.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Just outside DC.”
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Kate said. She touched his face, fingers skimming over his eyes, nose, mouth.
“Believe it, sweetness. It’s happening.” He wiped the tears that had filled her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. “Phillip and I will explain everything when we get to the house.”
Phillip Corcoran lived in an older, well-maintained colonial-style home an hour outside the nation’s capital. His wife met them at the door.
“My name is Susan. Come in, dear,” she said, taking Kate by the hand. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Kate’s throat felt raw from crying. “Could I have some water, please?”
“Of course.” Susan patted her
shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before disappearing into the kitchen.
Ian was holding Kate’s hand, and he followed Phillip into the living room and led Kate to the couch. Phillip sat down across from them.
“Thank you,” Kate said when Susan returned and handed her a glass of water. She took a drink, and it soothed the burn in her throat.
“I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” Susan said.
Phillip smiled and nodded at her. Kate set the glass on the coffee table and turned to Ian. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and he seemed exhausted.
“They found you,” she said. When she’d finally allowed herself to believe he might actually be alive, she’d started putting it all together. “That’s why you put your car in the river. You wanted them to think you were dead.”
“Yes,” Ian replied. “They found out who I was and where I lived.” Ian and Philip shared a glance. “But even worse than that, and the reason I did this, is because they found you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Kate felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “Me?”
Ian nodded somberly. “I realized it when you asked me to look at your computer. Your firewall had been turned off, you had a backdoor, and there were several shell scripts running simultaneously. I couldn’t do anything about it. If I had, they’d have known I’d discovered it.”
Kate’s mind was reeling, and she felt like a weight was pressing down on her chest. The room was suddenly too warm. “Do they know where I live? Where I work?”
“They know everything,” Ian said.
“How?” Kate asked. “How did they find you?”
“We’re not sure,” Ian said. “My computers are all clean. I would have known immediately if they weren’t. Phillip and I have some theories, but nothing we’ve been able to prove. But they would have seen us together as soon as they started watching me. Then it would have taken them no time at all to identify and hack you.
“You said if they ever found you there would be threats,” Kate said, her voice rising. “Disturbing threats.”