“I promise. It’ll take the cops days to get a warrant
for ShadowCo files. I can access them in a day. Then they stop the killer and I
don’t have any more deaths on my conscience.” She set the scripts to run,
toggled back to Ninth Circle, and dug into her pasta. “And don’t tell me
they’re not on my head. Because they are.”
Neither of them corrected her, either because they
knew she wouldn’t listen or because they knew she was right. Eve patted Callie’s
arm. “Go home. David’s here and I’ll be fine.”
“You won’t leave her?” Callie asked. “Because even if
she’s not worried about that psycho coming after her, I am.”
“I’ll sleep on the sofa. If I can sleep on that ratty
couch in the firehouse, I can sleep anywhere. Come on, Callie. It’s late. I’ll
fix you a plate and walk you down to your car.”
They were gone and it was quiet. Except for the
dripping. She turned up the volume of the Ninth Circle band. It was the lesser
of two evils, but just barely.
She searched the bar once again for the handsome
avatar, then turned to her list of red-zones. There were still five, three of
which were women. Rachel Ward, Natalie Clooney, and Kathy Kirk. She knew them
only by their avatars—Rachel’s cabaret dancer, Natalie’s poker queen, and
Kathy’s real estate mogul.
Who they were in real life Eve didn’t yet know. That
was about to change. But first she wanted to be sure they were still present.
She spotted Kathy’s avatar on her bar stool, negotiating a land deal. Natalie’s
hung at the casino, as did Rachel’s on the nights she was dancing. But on
Mondays, Rachel hung at Ninth Circle with everyone else.
Eve was looking for Rachel, when a sharp knock
startled her. She set her laptop aside and got up to let David back in. “Remind
me to make you a key.”
The words were out before the man on her welcome mat
registered in her mind.
Noah Webster’s face was shadowed by his hat brim, but
she could see the wry humor in his eyes. “I’m flattered,” he said. “But it’s a
little soon for that, don’t you think?”
A disturbing little thrill raced down her spine. “I… I
thought you were my friend.”
“Now I’m hurt,” he said mildly. “I haven’t even told
you why I’m here.”
“I didn’t mean…” Flustered, she looked down at her
feet, got her composure, then looked back up to find him staring in that
unsettling way of his. “Come in.”
Webster slipped his hat from his head in a gesture she
found endearing. “I saw your friend downstairs. He was looking under the hood
of Callie’s car. It wouldn’t start.”
“Callie drives a bigger hunk of junk than I do. David
will find the problem.”
Webster’s dark brows knitted slightly. “So your friend
fixes cars and roofs?”
“David does a little bit of everything,” she said.
“He’s a fireman, too. And he cooks.”
“All that,” Webster said sourly and she had to
chuckle.
“I’ve never met a woman who could resist him,” she
said lightly.
“Except you?” he said, too seriously, and something
twisted in her stomach.
“Except me.” David had earned her trust. But to fall
for a man on the basis of his pleasing face? Never again. She required actions
before she trusted a man now. But she’d trusted Webster, almost at first sight.
To deny it would be an outright lie.
And Noah Webster had a very pleasing face. It was a
bothersome admission.
“What brings you back, Detective?”
His eyes left hers and too late she remembered she’d
left the disposable phone out in plain sight. He walked to her chair, picked it
up. “Untraceable cell phone?”
“It’s not a crime to own a prepaid phone,” she said
blandly, but she tensed. A bit.
“No, it’s not. But, hypothetically speaking, if you
learned anything, you’d tell me?”
“You’d be the first call I made. Hypothetically
speaking.”
“Of course.” He looked at her laptop. “Did you see the
guy who talked to Christy?”
“Not yet. I’ve been checking off and on since I got
home.” She didn’t want him looking too closely at her screen. “Have a seat,
Detective. I’ll put coffee on.”
But again, it was too late. “Who is this, Eve?” He
pointed at the panel in the top left of her screen, the one that showed her
active avatar. “Did Greer take the night off?”
She’d indeed given Greer the night off, resurrecting
an avatar she hadn’t used in a very long time. “I needed to get her appropriate
clothing. Didn’t want her to catch cold.”
He sat in her chair, pulled her computer to his lap.
“And here I thought you’d created a new avatar so that you could approach this
dancer without breaking your word to me.”
Eve sat on the sofa. “I’m not that clever.”
He didn’t smile. “Uh-huh. So who is this new face of
Eve?”
Eve took her computer, set it aside. “What happened?
Why did you come back?”
He glared at her laptop, eyes flashing with annoyance.
“I need your participant list.”
“I expected you’d ask once Matt Nillson was gone. He’d
have a cow, you know.”
“I won’t say where I got it. I promise.”
“I’d planned to bring it to you tomorrow anyway. Wait
here. I’ll be back.”
Noah watched her head to her bedroom, laptop under her
arm, then checked the phone. Her only call was to a 206 area code, same as
ShadowCo. He knew this because he’d looked it up for his warrant request.
Eve was planning to hack into Shadowland, if she hadn’t
done so already.
In her place I’d do the same.
He put the phone back and
considered her computer.
He’d caught a look at her new avatar. Dark, sleek, and
dangerous—of a different style than her other designs, although the face had
been disturbingly familiar. He knew he’d looked at a much younger Eve, before
she’d met the man who’d left her for dead.
The new avatar’s name was Nemesis. Noah knew Eve well
enough by now to know that meant something. On his own cell, he did a quick
Internet search.
Nemesis, the goddess of divine retribution
. Eve was
planning to kick some virtual ass. That shouldn’t arouse him, but he’d be lying
if he denied it did.
Eve reappeared, a stack of papers in one hand. “It
took a few minutes to print.”
He took the stack. “How many people are in this study,
anyway?”
“Five hundred, but you don’t have to check them all.”
She leaned close to point at a page, but didn’t touch him. He thought of how
she’d thrown her arms around Hunter and felt a tug of jealousy. It was
irrational, and embarrassing, but it was there.
“We have three groups,” she was saying. “Group C is
the one you want to focus on.”
“They’re in Shadowland.”
“Where they do self-esteem exercises. They’re broken
into three subgroups—those who never played until this study, who played a few
hours a month, and who played a few hours a week. They fill out diaries with
their usage, but I can check their online time. The heavy users almost always
lie, understating their usage.”
“Like Martha.”
“Actually she was honest about her habits.” She
pointed. “These are the top users.”
“Martha and Christy are still on the list,” he noted.
“I’m not supposed to know I should take them off,” she
said quietly. “And that sucks.”
There was guilt in her tone and Noah wanted to
alleviate it if he could. “When would they have been missed from the study? If
you hadn’t been keeping track?”
“In a few weeks, when they had to come back for their
personality evals.”
“Then you did good.” He met her eyes. “You couldn’t
have stopped these murders. But you might have saved his next victim by doing
everything you’ve done. Don’t let your guilt overshadow your contribution.” He
smiled. “No pun intended.”
“Thank you. That helps a lot more than being told it’s
not my fault.”
He held her eyes a moment longer before she looked
away, but in that moment he saw an unguarded loneliness that squeezed at his
heart. Trina’s words came back to hit him like a ton of bricks.
You don’t
deserve to be alone forever.
And he finally admitted he didn’t want to be.
That he’d give anything to have somebody again.
“One more question. You want people to have meaningful
lives in the real world.”
Her glance up was nervous, fleeting. “Yes, so?”
“So, what good is living in the real world if you have
to live alone, unavailable?”
She flinched and he knew he’d overstepped, but didn’t
care. She walked to her front door and opened it wide, not looking at him.
“Call me if you need anything else.”
He stood looking at her for a few seconds before
walking through the door. It closed sharply behind him and he heard the click
of her deadbolt. With a sigh he walked down a flight of stairs, only to find
David Hunter sitting on one of the steps, looking very cold.
“Is everything all right?”
Hunter stood. “I figured you two needed to talk about
whatever happened tonight.”
Noah narrowed his eyes. “She didn’t tell you?”
“She witnessed a crime and gave her statement. Why? Is
Evie in trouble?”
“No, she’s not.” Noah walked down another flight
before he turned and looked back up. Hunter was watching him, his expression
purposefully bland.
“Is everything all right, Detective?” Hunter asked
cordially.
“No.” Noah studied Hunter’s near-perfect face. “You
knew her, in Chicago.”
“Yes.” The single word was clipped and laced with
warning.
“I read about what happened to her four years ago,
with that kidnapping and the boy she saved. And what happened two years before
that.”
Hunter’s jaw had tightened. “Is there a question in
there, Detective?”
Yes, but he’d be damned if he knew what it was. “She
has a disposable cell phone in her apartment,” he said and Hunter’s expression
smoothed.
“I know. I bought it tonight. I left the charger for
my cell back in Chicago and my phone is dead. The prepaid will keep me going
until I get home.”
The man’s gray eyes didn’t flicker an iota as he lied.
“Look, I know Eve’s going to hack into Shadowland’s system. When she does, can
you make sure she calls me?”
Hunter’s lips thinned. “Why, so you can cuff her
again?”
“I didn’t do that, and I uncuffed her as soon as I got
there. I want her to call me because she doesn’t think she’s in danger. I won’t
take the chance that she’s wrong.”
Now Hunter’s eyes flickered, but with worry. “I’ll
make sure she calls you.”
“Thanks.” Noah hesitated. “Why did you really come,
Hunter?”
“To fix her roof. Evie’s like my kid sister. There’s
not a lot I wouldn’t do for her.”
A sense of relief loosened the knots in his gut.
“Thanks. See you around.”
“Detective,” Hunter called after him, “weren’t you
wearing a hat when you got here?”
Noah nodded. “I thought I’d come back for it
tomorrow.”
Hunter hesitated. “Don’t hurt her,” he said quietly.
“She’s been through enough.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Eve let David back in, still feeling unsettled. Angry.
She’d tried to be honest but kind to Noah, but he did not respect boundaries.
She locked her deadbolt, her frown deepening. “I know I locked my door this
afternoon. I can picture it in my mind.”
“You were rattled,” David said. “You still are.”
“Of course I am,” she said irritably. “Two women I
recruited to my study are dead.”
He studied her face shrewdly. “And Noah Webster cares
for you.”
Eve sighed. “I know. I wish he didn’t. I tried to tell
him to go away.”
“Now why would you do a foolish thing like that,
Evie?” David asked gently.
“Not gonna happen.” She sat in her chair and grabbed
her pasta, now cold.
“Which? You and Webster or you and me talking about
you and Webster?”
So what good
is
it to live in the real world all alone?
“Yes. Either. Both.”
He shrugged. “All right. Any of your scripts finding
loose bricks in ShadowCo?”
She opened her laptop. “Not yet.”
“Then I’ll make coffee. I guess it’s going to be a
long night.” He puttered in the kitchen, then returned holding two cups, and it
was then she noticed what looked like a walkie-talkie hanging from his belt. A
baby pink walkie-talkie.
“What the hell is that?” she demanded when he put a
steaming mug in her hand.
He lifted a dark brow. “Coffee.”
She rolled her eyes. “No,
that
. What the hell
is
that
?” She pointed to the device.
“Oh, this.” He unclipped it from his belt and turned
it toward her, showing her a small screen that was murky and dark. “Baby
monitor. This is the receiver.”