Authors: Julie Moffett
“Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?”
Rudy snorted. “Hell, you kids nowadays can’t see beyond your computer monitors and texting all the time. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Turning this place into a wireless café was the best damn idea I ever had. Still, imagine my surprise when a smart girl is sitting over there with a pretty boy toy like that.”
“Rudy, jeez, when have I
ever
had a boy toy?”
Rudy laughed. “Knew you had it in you. You’re just a late bloomer.”
“Yeah, really,
really
late.”
“So, is he your toy?”
I put my hands on my hips. “First of all, Finn is not a toy. Second of all, why are you so interested in my love life all of a sudden? Jealous?”
“Maybe,” he said, but I knew he was yanking my chain.
“You’re such a lousy liar. You’ve got it way too good with Jackie. You two still together?”
“Eighteen years. So, that guy ain’t your boyfriend?”
“Well, not yet. Right now he’s kind of my boss.”
“Your boss? For God’s sake, kid, haven’t you heard of sexual harassment?”
I held up a hand. “Trust me there is no harassment. And there is definitely no sex…yet. But there is still hope.”
He eyed me for a moment. “So, that’s how it is. You be careful with a guy like that, especially if he’s writing your paycheck.”
I sighed. “I know, I know. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve already heard about the horrors of dating someone you work with. Knowing my luck, it’s highly unlikely to work out anyway. But I’m not here to talk about my love life or current lack thereof. Let’s get back to Darren. Do you have any idea where on the net he liked to surf when he was in here?”
Rudy grunted. “Jesus, Lexi, you know how many customers I get in here in one day? The places they go, the places they’ve been? You think I remember? Besides, I’m no net cop. People go where they want as long as they’re of legal age and it ain’t porn. Got blocks on that. Otherwise, I don’t give a shit.”
I let out a breath. “I know that. Look, Rudy, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Michael Hart is dead and I think Darren might be mixed up in some pretty bad trouble. He’s asked for my help, but now I can’t find him. If you can remember anything about Darren, it could really help me out.”
To Rudy’s credit, he looked shocked. “Jesus. Michael is dead? How did the kid die?”
“Car accident. I think.”
Rudy raised one of his famously bushy eyebrows. “You
think?
”
“It’s a long story. Just help me out here. Please.”
He sighed. “You swear you aren’t with the police.”
“I swear. Cross my heart.”
“Or the government?”
“Not anymore.”
He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening to our conversation, which was ridiculous because I didn’t see how anyone could overhear us with all the noise in the bar. I saw Finn return from the back area and sit down at the booth. He caught my eye and I nodded slightly to indicate I’d seen him.
“Okay, so maybe I know what Darren liked to do. He played a lot of GURPS,” Rudy said. “GURPS Robots in particular. He was a king or something. Not that I understand what the hell that means, but he liked to brag about it.”
If I remembered correctly, the GURPS Robots game let you play at being a robot—from nanobots to megabots. You could become a cyborg, android and even a biomorph. It wasn’t exactly up my alley, but, hey, whatever fits your bits. I filed that information away to check out later.
“Thanks, Rudy.” I dug out one of my brand-new business cards from my purse. “You think of anything else about Darren or if you happen to see him, will you give me a call?”
“Sure, Lexi. I hope you find Darren. He’s a good kid. And mind my advice on the pretty boy.”
“Sure.”
When I returned to the booth, Finn was squeezing mustard over his French fries. I looked at him in disbelief.
“Jeez, that’s sickening. Is that a European thing?”
He laughed. “No, I just don’t care for catsup.” He eyed the cheeseburger. “Now, how am I supposed to eat this heart attack on a plate?”
“Let me show you how Americans do it.” I shook the catsup bottle and poured a generous amount across my fries and burger. I smashed the bun down on top of the burger and managed to get my hands around it.
“Like this.” I took a bite.
“Jesus, Joseph and Mary,” Finn said, eyeing me with something akin to wonder. I saw him glance at his fork and knife in indecision before leaning over and picking the burger up with his hands. He took a small bite and chewed thoughtfully.
“Well?” I asked.
He grinned and I saw a smudge of mustard on his mouth. He looked so damn adorable, I couldn’t believe he was sitting here with me.
“It’s the best bloody burger I’ve ever had,” he said. “What the hell do they cook it in?”
“Grease. Hope you made out a will.”
He rolled his eyes and took another bite. “So did you find out anything useful from the bartender?”
“You first,” I insisted, taking another bite.
He set down the burger and wiped his mouth and hands on a napkin. “I didn’t get anything from the manager. She says she doesn’t remember the kid and doesn’t give a fiver about the customers so long as they pay and don’t cause trouble. She wouldn’t give up any more information on a customer without a subpoena. She’s a bit of a sleeven.”
“A what?”
“Sleeven. What you Americans might call a tough cookie.”
“She must be if you couldn’t charm her.”
“So, what did you get from the bartender?”
I dabbed at the corner of my mouth with a napkin. “Rudy thinks Darren and Michael might have been more than just friends.”
“Pardon?”
“Rudy thinks they were gay. But I’m not convinced. I mean, why didn’t they have an apartment together? They were, after all, two consenting adults.”
Finn still looked startled by my revelation. “Did you say gay? As in homosexual?”
“Of course. What did you think I meant—happy?”
“No need to be caustic. It’s just when I’m with you, I want to be certain.”
“Oh. I guess that’s fair. Anyway, I don’t see how it would matter if Darren and Michael were gay. Darren certainly didn’t have to worry about disapproval from his family since he didn’t have any, but I suppose Michael might have.”
“And don’t forget that Darren considered Gene Hart as something like a surrogate father,” Finn added.
“Not to mention, he held the purse strings, at least at first, for Flow Technologies.” I dipped a fry into some catsup and took a bite. “Anyway, I can’t confirm whether it’s true or not, and at this point, I can’t even say if it’s relevant. Still, it’s something to add to the mix. I also found out that Darren likes to play GURPS.”
“Lexi, would you mind speaking English?”
“Speaking in acronyms is a bad habit of mine. Sorry. GURPS are Generic Universal Role Playing Systems. They’re online games—virtual worlds. Pretty cool stuff. I’m a recovering addict. But given current circumstances, I might just have to become active again in order to check this out.”
We finished up our lunch and Finn insisted on paying, claiming company business. We drove back to the office in Crystal City mostly in silence, both of us thinking about what we’d learned. As Finn parked the Jag, he said, “I’ll round up Ben and let’s meet in the conference room in fifteen minutes. We’ll lay out what we know so far.”
“Okay. Maybe he has some new insight on Darren’s paper.”
Fifteen minutes later, we all sat around the conference table with our notes spread out. Finn filled Ben in on what we’d discovered at the café and I spelled out everything Finn and I’d learned up to that point.
Ben told us he’d discovered that Darren hadn’t used his credit cards or made any cash withdrawals in the past ten days, well before he disappeared. However, two weeks before he vanished, he had withdrawn fifteen thousand dollars in cash.
“So maybe this was a planned disappearance,” I said, leaning back in my chair. After the burger, I felt like unbuttoning my slacks but it would have to wait until I wasn’t in mixed company.
“Perhaps,” Ben commented. “But we’ve got no other paper trail and his car is missing.”
That surprised me. “His car is missing?”
“Yes, and I don’t like the fact that his apartment was searched. For what purpose?”
“Clues to his whereabouts?” Finn suggested.
Ben shrugged. “But by whom?”
Finn frowned. “Niles Foreman?”
I shook my head. “Why? I can’t believe that Niles and his buddies would trash the place. Search it, perhaps, but why the mess? It implies desperation.”
“And urgency,” Ben added.
“Besides why not tell us they’d been through the place?” I was pretty much just thinking aloud. “Or offer us the key, for that matter?”
Finn ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”
Ben looked at me pointedly. “What about your connection?”
I shook my head. “
Nada.
Not even an educated guess. I have no idea why I’m even a player in all this. Did you get anything useful from your nanotech connections?”
“Not yet,” Ben replied. “I’ve got several calls in and am waiting to hear back.”
“Anything about Darren’s paper raise any flags?” Maybe we’d gotten lucky.
“It’s hard to say without really understanding exactly what he was working on,” Ben said. “But if we look at the big picture, I suppose some could consider Darren’s technology threatening on a larger scale.”
“Threatening? How so?” Finn asked.
“Well, let’s put the facts on the table,” Ben replied. “Darren was working on energy replacement using nanotechnology. Let’s speculate that perhaps he has actually come up with a way to make oil obsolete.”
I whistled under my breath. “That would be huge. No, that would be
beyond
huge.”
“It would be a colossal step in the field of nanotechnology,” Ben agreed. “But that’s not all. Creating a new energy replacement would be revolutionary enough, but that is not all that is at stake here.
If
Darren has indeed accomplished the impossible, our entire world will change.”
“In what way?” I asked.
Ben leaned forward, his elbows splayed on the table. “Because theoretically, it would then be only a matter of time before atoms will be able to be manipulated to make anything we wanted.”
“Anything?” Finn didn’t look like he believed it.
“Anything,” Ben replied. “Let’s consider the consequences. If humans become able to replicate whatever we need or desire, including food, energy and material goods, what happens to our way of life? How does culture and society progress? What would happen to the global market if everyone can have anything they want for nothing?”
His words were so astounding that Finn and I just stared at him with open mouths.
Ben stood up, seemingly oblivious to the bomb he had just dropped on us. “This is all speculation, of course. We need to get more detailed information on exactly what Darren was doing at Flow. Then perhaps we can better understand what’s going on.”
“I’m going to check out his work space tomorrow,” I managed to say, my mind still reeling.
“Good. And hopefully I’ll have heard back from my sources.”
Without another word, he exited the room. Finn and I watched him. Then Finn rose and shook his head.
“Why the hell couldn’t we have got a simple case for our first assignment?”
I felt a stab of guilt even though the reasonable part of my brain reminded me I shouldn’t blame myself. “I’m sorry,” I blurted out anyway.
He looked at me, and his expression softened. “For God’s sake, Lexi, I’m not blaming you. I feel fortunate to have you on the team. Besides, don’t you believe that everything happens for a reason?”
Actually I did, but that belief was more based in science than mysticism. “Yeah, I do. Thanks for the support.”
He gathered his notes. “Ben’s given us a lot to think about.”
I nodded. “I’ll take another look at the archives on the STRUT site and continue to work my way through the emails Ken and Jay sent me.”
He nodded and put his papers under his arm, heading for the door. He paused at the exit. “By the way, I’ll pick you up at seven.”
Jeez, with all the excitement, I’d forgotten about the date. I felt my nerves jangle, but I managed a smile. “Sure. See you then.”
He leaned against the door. “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you better outside work and in a situation where we aren’t in immediate danger of losing our lives.”
“That sounds great.”
He left and I sat back in the chair, closing my eyes. OMG. A
real
date with Finn. He wanted to get to know me, the genuine, geeky, awkward me. I only hoped my social inadequacies wouldn’t interfere with what I hoped would be a truly memorable night.
After work I went straight home, took a shower and washed my hair. I slathered myself with lotion, wrapped my wet hair in a towel and slid into my bathrobe. Taking a deep breath for courage, I reached under the sink for my rarely used makeup box. Applying makeup was a skill I’d never mastered, much to the never-ending dismay of my beauty-queen mother. I’d once seen a makeup artist on a morning news program say the most important areas of the face to address were the eyes and the lips. So I swiped on some mascara and added lip gloss and hoped for the best.
I quickly blow-dried my straight hair, combing the flyaway strands down. It hadn’t been cut in some time and I realized it reached nearly down to the middle of my back. Leaving it loose, I squeezed into my red gown. Once in I seriously considered scotch-taping my nipples to the material but I’m chicken when it comes to physical pain, so I let things lie where they were and hoped for the best.
Going into the bedroom, I donned a pair of dangling red earrings and a ruby ring my dad had given me on my sixteenth birthday. I preened for a while in front of the body-length mirror, thinking I didn’t look half-bad. A curvy hourglass figure would have been perfect for this dress, but we are who we are. Nonetheless, I felt a bit drafty with all the cleavage showing, so I found a shawl my grandma had given me eons ago and wrapped it around me. I was afraid to eat or drink anything in case I popped out of the gown, so I stood motionless in my living room, leaning against the wall until I heard Finn buzz from downstairs at ten minutes after seven.
I let him in and he arrived at my door a minute later looking stunning in a three-piece navy suit with white shirt and blue-and-gold tie. He smelled heavenly, too, wearing some kind of sexy, musky, masculine cologne.
He looked at me inquisitively and I knew he was curious as to why I was clutching the shawl around my neck. But I was too chicken to reveal my outfit yet, so I just smiled brightly.
“Sorry I’m late. I had to wait for the driver.”
“Driver?”
“It’s a surprise.” Just then his cell phone rang. He fished it out of his jacket pocket and previewed the number. “Damn. Do you mind if I take this? I’ll be just a moment.”
“Of course not. Go ahead.”
He gave me a grateful smile and then stepped into my kitchen and began talking. I retrieved my coat and slid it on over my shawl, feeling awkward and shy. I wished I had bought the black sheath gown because now I’d be feeling a lot more safe and comfortable. On the other hand, I did want to capture Finn’s attention and keep it, just like Basia had suggested. I needed to remember that tonight was the start of a more sexy me. I just had to concentrate on exuding my inner glow and femininity. I could do this.
I inhaled a deep breath, which wasn’t easy in my gown, just as Finn hung up and opened the front door.
“All ready?”
“Ready steady.” I winced inwardly. Time to upgrade my conversational skills, too.
I set the alarm and we headed downstairs. When we got to the parking lot, I saw a black stretch limo.
“You hired a limo?” Like it would have been a real burden to take his Jag.
“It wasn’t my idea. The gallery owners insisted. I hope you don’t mind.”
Jeez, as if I’d mind riding in a limo. If the truth be known, I’d never ridden in a limo before, but I didn’t want Finn to think I’m utterly unworldly, so I didn’t mention it. The limo driver, dressed in a natty black suit complete with a hat, stood by the car and held open the door for us.
“Good evening, madame.”
What did I say? Good evening,
monsieur?
I just stood there staring at him like an idiot.
“After you,” Finn said, putting his hand in the small of my back and giving me a gentle push.
Easier said than done. I very,
very
carefully climbed in and half sat, half lay on the seat. The last thing I needed to do was asphyxiate myself before the date even started. Finn climbed in and sat beside me on the plush leather seat. Trying not to look like a kid in a candy store, I glanced around at our luxury surroundings. There was a bar, a television, a DVD player, a telephone, a stereo and a small refrigerator. A chilled bottle of champagne and two glasses sat on top of a crystal platter on the bar.
“Jeez, this is nicer than my apartment,” I muttered in spite of my intention to appear sophisticated.
Finn smiled as he poured me a glass of champagne. “I’m glad you like it.”
He handed me the champagne and settled back against the seat. I took a sip and then cradled the glass, thinking maybe I should pinch myself. Could it be possible that I really was sitting here with the most gorgeous guy on the planet in a black stretch limo, sipping champagne?
“Where is the gallery located?” We were headed into D.C.
“Not too far from the Hilton Hotel in northwest D.C.”
The Hilton is now best known as the site of John Hinckley’s botched assassination attempt on former President Ronald Reagan. I figured it would take us about thirty minutes to get there. That meant thirty minutes of lounging in serious luxury while drinking what I was sure was expensive champagne. It also meant social conversation, at which I happen to be lousy.
I tried to hide my nervousness by chatting with Finn about as many non-consequential issues as I could think of. As we talked, I gratefully noticed that he steered clear of topics like code and nanotechnology. I sensed that tonight he wanted to separate work from play, which was just fine with me.
After a while, my nervousness dissipated and he poured me another glass of champagne. I was feeling rather giddy and I wasn’t sure whether it was from the champagne, the lack of air to my lungs because of my skin-tight gown or the fact that for once in my life, I was sort of holding my own in small-talk conversation.
Eventually we lapsed into silence and Finn pulled something out of his pocket and began fiddling with it.
“A Rubik’s Cube?” I asked in surprise.
He nodded sheepishly. “I do it sometimes to relax.”
“Relax? You’re not nervous.” I paused, suddenly uncertain. “Are you?”
“A little.”
Maybe he was giving a speech at the party tonight or receiving an award. That kind of stuff would definitely make me anxious. His nervousness wouldn’t have anything to do with me. He’d dated tons of beautiful women a lot more sophisticated and worldly. Comparatively speaking, I was a plain Twinkie compared to the usual double-fudge cupcakes he usually accompanied.
But what if he was worried what people might think of me? I imagined them whispering behind their wineglasses, shaking their heads and clucking their tongues, wondering what a gorgeous guy like Finn was doing with an ugly duckling.
Why in the world had I thought I could pull this off?
Resisting the urge to chew my fingernails, I tried to calm myself while watching Finn turn some of the faces on the Rubik’s Cube. He was doing it all wrong.
“I’ve been stuck in this one place,” he said. He moved some more of the panels, making it worse. “I can’t seem to get out of it.”
“Need some help?” I offered.
“Sure.”
I took the cube and quickly fixed it so that he had about six moves to finish it.
He stared at me for a moment and then back at the cube. “That’s amazing.” He flipped the last panels into place. “You do that all from memory, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I just see it somehow.”
He smiled at me and I swear I saw desire in his eyes. Holy cow, had I somehow just turned him on by doing the Rubik’s Cube?
“What do you mean that you can see it?” He slid closer to me.
His thigh pressed against mine and I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. Yep, I’m pretty sure sparks ignited.
“It’s just visualization. Like in chess. I can usually see at least three or four moves ahead.”
“Fascinating.” He nuzzled my ear. “Did I happen to mention I love a woman with a quick mind?”
His voice sounded husky, sensual and very Irish. Every nerve in my body stood at full attention. At the same time, I made a mental note to buy a half dozen Rubik’s Cubes and place them strategically around my office and apartment. Maybe I’d stuff one down my bra for good measure.
“Ah…it’s nothing, really,” I said. “I can show you how to do it, if you’d like.”
He moved his lips to my neck and kissed me there. “I’d like that,” he murmured, his mouth hot against my skin.
Oh. My. God. My body was on fire. Finn’s lips were taking their time moving up to my chin and I knew he’d be seriously kissing me any moment. What if I disappointed him? What if having a quick mind couldn’t make up for a horrible lack of kissing experience? I also wasn’t sure where I should put my hands. Should I put them around his neck or his shoulders or would either of those be too forward? I didn’t want him to think I was too easy. But then again, I had no idea how to play hard-to-get.
What I needed was the proper protocol here. Why hadn’t I researched methods of kissing before? Then I could memorize all the steps and apply them as the situation arose. Jeez, how did people figure this stuff out without Google? I sincerely hoped the answer wasn’t instinct because it was painfully clear I had none.
I was saved from any decision where to put my hands because the limo abruptly pulled to a stop in front of a curb. To my enormous disappointment, Finn stopped nuzzling my neck and looked out the window.
“Damn,” he breathed. “We’re here, lass.” He reached across me and opened the door.
I tried to calm my breathing and act casual, like good-looking guys kissed my neck every day. I wriggled to the door, trying to figure how to get out without ripping or falling out of my spandex-squeezing gown. Thankfully, the driver gallantly stepped up and stretched out a hand.
“Careful now, madame,” he warned.
Like,
duh.
What did he think I was doing?
When he saw me just sitting there trying to mathematically calculate the safest move, he grabbed my hand and pulled hard. I guess he had some experience at rescuing spandex-clad women from limos because, to my great relief, I exited the limo with dress intact and Finn following close behind. He took aside the driver and slipped him something.
Finn had just rejoined me on the curb when a stocky man with blond-streaked hair tied back into a ponytail came out to meet us at the curb. A cigarette dangled between his lips and he was dressed in a black suit with a white turtleneck and tennis shoes.
“Well, Finn, ye ole dog.” He smacked Finn hard on the back. “Damn good to see ye, mate. How’s the form?”
“Just grand, Colin. And you?”
“Brilliant,” he said and then his gaze settled on me. He gave me a long and thorough perusal and then grinned. “Who’s the lass?”
“Let me introduce you to Lexi Carmichael,” Finn said, his hand still resting in the small of my back. He pushed me a little bit forward. “Lexi, this is Colin Kelley, owner of the Shamrock Gallery.”
I noticed that Finn’s voice had immediately changed to a full-blown Irish lilt upon our arrival and it made me smile. “It’s nice to meet you,” I said to Colin.
To my surprise, Colin snatched my hand and pressed it to his lips for what I thought was an inordinate amount of time. “So, an American lass,” he murmured against my skin. “That’s a surprise.”
I wasn’t so sure what was surprising about that, but before I could say anything, Finn spoke up.
“Colin and I go way back.” He extracted my hand from Colin’s lips. “We’ve been friends since primary school.”
Colin glanced with amusement at Finn. “Has it been that long?” He eyed me while taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing it out the side of his mouth. “Finn was the favorite o’ the nuns, ye know, whereas I was the black sheep. But if the truth be known, Finn was always the instigator o’ trouble.”
Finn laughed. “Don’t pay him any mind, Lexi. Colin is the master of exaggeration…among many other things.”
Colin stared at me for a moment longer and I got the distinct impression that he was trying to figure out what a guy like Finn was doing with a girl like me. I didn’t blame him; I wondered the same thing myself. All the same, I shifted uncomfortably on my feet until Colin abruptly took my arm.
“Now why are we standing out here jabbing in the draft?” He pulled me along with him. “Come in, ye two, and take the weight off yer feet.”
Colin led us into the gallery and a blast of warm air. I took one look around and my mouth fell open. The building looked rather ordinary from the outside, but on the inside, the two-storied building had been architecturally redesigned to form one great room with vaulted ceilings, glass beams and a striking green marble staircase. A gorgeous crystal chandelier hung from the center of the room nearly touching the outstretched hand of an enormous, stunning white marble statue of a nude maiden sitting by a fountain. The fountain was real and sprayed water lit by a background rainbow of colors. But the sight that shocked me the most was the sea of black and white that filled the gallery. My heart dropped to my feet and stayed there.
“Are those priests and nuns?” I asked Finn, my voice sounding strained and squeaky.
Finn glanced at me. “Oh, did I forget to mention that proceeds from tonight’s gala are to be donated to Our Lady Queen of Ireland Parish?”
Boy did he ever.
“Um…I guess it must have slipped your mind.” A nun passed by me and smiled.
Finn shrugged. “Here, Lexi, let me take your coat.”
I stood frozen to the spot. I was dressed to kill in a sinfully low-cut gown and he wanted me to take my coat off in front of an army of God’s servants? I started to hyperventilate. I was going to kill Basia. I
knew
I should have chosen the black gown on the half-price rack.
“I…I…just…”
Finn slipped out of his coat as a young woman with spiked black hair, a nose ring and a stud in her lip arrived and quickly took it from his hands. I didn’t miss the look of pure appreciation she gave Finn or the look of disdain she gave me.
Finn tugged impatiently at my coat and I realized I couldn’t wear it all evening. Thank God, I still had my shawl. Finn helped me slip off my coat, while I made damn certain that one hand clutched the shawl tight around my chest. Finn looked at me a bit strangely but I pretended not to notice. I heard the studded girl give a snort at my death clutch, but she took off with our coats anyway.