“I’m right outside.” Owen peered at the glass office building. “Should I park or—”

The double doors opened and Zach jogged out, phone in hand. Owen ended the call and punched the unlock button. The morning’s sunshine was deteriorating into swiftly gathering afternoon storms.

Since no one was particularly hungry at the garage it’d seemed like the perfect time to meet up with Zach before grabbing lunch.

When Quinn had asked about news regarding the laptop, Owen hadn’t quite been honest. He didn’t know anything for certain, only that Zach wanted to talk to him about it face to face. Whatever he’d found he didn’t want it to be sent over the net, through a text or even said on the phone.

Zach plopped into the passenger side seat and strapped on his seatbelt. Before Owen could say a word, Zach pulled a black box device from his pocket and pressed a button.

“What does that do?” Owen asked.

“It disrupts listening devices for about five minutes. It’s a work thing. I borrowed it.”

“A work—? I thought you built phone apps.” Owen glanced at the front of the building before focusing on Zach.

“Five minutes.” Zach wiggled the box. “Someone has put a pretty nasty virus on your girl’s laptop. That’s why it runs like a dinosaur. Essentially, everything she plugs into it gets infected and is sent off somewhere in real time.”

“What?” Owen gaped at Zach.

“Looking at what her company does, my guess is espionage. Someone wants to know what they’re working on and steal their secrets before they can make a buck off them. This is...” Zach shook his head.

“What do we do? Can you track it?”

“Maybe?” Zach shrugged.

“It didn’t do anything to your equipment, did it?”

“No. I—I quarantined the rig I used to evaluate it. My home system...” Zach scrubbed a hand over his mouth.

“Did it get you?”

“Yeah, but I think I can extract it.”

“I’m so sorry, Zach.”

“Whoever did this is big time. Espionage like this is big money. You’re dealing with people who are going a long way to make sure their interests are protected.”

“What do I do?”

“Right now?” Zach shook his head. “Have Quinn put laptop repair on her calendar. Hopefully, whoever is out there watching writes me off as some tech guy and they kill the virus themselves. They’ll want to contain it.”

The black box beeped.

“One minute,” Zach said.

“I don’t...but...”

“My advice? Whatever she’s working on, stop. Now. Because it’s drawn a lot of interest from people you don’t want on your scent.”

“So it’s not likely someone inside the company? HI-Co.”

“Not likely. This is advanced espionage sort of virus shit. Bad stuff.”

“Then—who?”

“I don’t know.”

The box blared ten beeps.

“I say we go to that burger place down the road and end this argument,” Zach said without missing a beat.

Owen stared at Zach.

Who was he? What was he really doing in that glass tower of his?

Zack tilted his head forward and lifted his brows.

They were out from under whatever umbrella of protection the anti-surveillance thing provided. They couldn’t just talk about whatever they wanted.

Was someone following them? Listening in to their conversations?

“Okay, burgers it is,” Owen mumbled.

He steered by virtue of Zach pointing.

What the hell just happened?

As far as Owen knew, Zach worked for a company that made phone app games. He was always talking about some new project, a thing he was doing behind the scenes. Was all that a lie? Who—and what—was Zach really?

“Your phone.”

“What?” Owen slowed to a stop at the red light.

“Your phone, it’s ringing. Going to answer that?” Zach gestured at the cell.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Owen glanced at the Caller ID flashing on his dash. Shit. He couldn’t miss this. He pressed the Bluetooth answer button. “Morgan, what’s going on?”

“Where are you?” Morgan’s voice was grim.

“About to pick up some lunch. What’s up?”

“We’re coming to you. Text me the address.”

The call ended.

Could this day get any weirder?

“Want me to do that?” Zach asked.

“Please?”

“Something going on?”

“Morgan’s a cop friend of mine.”

That didn’t answer Zach’s question, but Owen didn’t know what to tell him or where to start.

He parked the car in a busy lot behind the burger place. Quinn hadn’t yet texted him, though Duke had sent him a rather comical picture of both Levi and Quinn working in their respective corners, heads down, oblivious to the world. That was the kind of thing Owen liked to see. Quinn getting to work in peace, safe under the watchful eye of their friends. She’d be fine there for now, leaving Owen time to figure out just what the hell was going on.

Zach didn’t seem to require more information from Owen. They entered the restaurant through a rear entrance and were able to snag a table. Zach slid into the chair that put his back and left side to the wall.

Owen had always found Zach a little...off. He was a fringe friend, never too close to anyone until lately, and suddenly he was part of everything.

“Are you going to tell me more about...?” Owen gestured, not sure what to call anything that’d happened in the last twenty minutes.

“I can’t,” Zach said.

“Does anyone know?”

“Parts.” He grimaced. “Jaxon knows the unsavory bits. A few know I have skills.”

“Am I one of those, now?”

Zach stared into Owen’s eyes. The aloof, indifferent mask was off. The person sitting catty corner to Owen was what he’d always suspected resided below the surface.

“If I didn’t think telling you...the important components, no. But you needed to know about those parts. You can’t mess with the rest. It’d cause a system failure.” Zach tilted his head.

Owen sorted out the double meaning. Zach was alarmed enough by what he’d seen that informing Owen of the dire nature of his situation was worth revealing a portion of the truth. But that was it. Anything else and—what? Owen might become a target? Was this private? Government? Something else?

“We’re on the same trivia team. You know me.” Zach continued to stare at Owen. Was that some sort of secret code? Was he trying to say they were on the same side? If so, did Zach work for the government?

Did Owen really know Zach? Did anyone?

“Hey, guys.”

Owen glanced to his left.

Morgan and Wu slid between the tables, chairs and other patrons to their dining space and seated themselves. Owen made some pleasantries out of habit, but his head wasn’t in it.

“I didn’t know...” Morgan glanced at Zach out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s going on?” Owen wanted to get whatever the latest round of blindsiding was over with.

“There’s a list,” Morgan said.

“Yeah?” If Owen wasn’t already dumbfounded, he might have glanced at Zach. He knew where the list came from, and so would Owen.

“Did you know there was a list?” Morgan asked.

Owen swallowed. Yes, he knew about the list of officers who were on the take from an internationally wanted criminal. The same people were the ones responsible for forcing him out of his job. He hoped they all got lengthy prison sentences.

Wu flipped through the menu, verbose as ever.

“Look, I’m suspended pending termination, I don’t need to be involved in whatever internal affairs is looking into.” Owen shrugged. Maybe he should have glanced at the list.

“That’s just it...” Morgan leaned forward. “Half of IA was suspended today. A quarter of dispatch. A dozen from patrol. Several of the top brass have handed in their resignations. We have more officers walking people out of the building than out on the streets. Owen, did you know it would be this big?”

He stared at Morgan.

When Zach had said there was a list, that there were people who were involved with Gabor, he’d assumed a few well-placed individuals. This was sounding like thirty people and counting.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Morgan leaned back. “Everyone’s nervous, and some are pissed. If I were you, I’d really watch my back.”

Their radios chirped, summoning them away before the waitress had so much as taken their drink orders.

For several moments Owen and Zach sat at the table, neither of them speaking.

Where did things go from here?

Quinn was being targeted by someone with a lot of muscle.

Owen had skated out of the department, just ahead of a major tsunami.

What next?

If the dirty cops thought Owen was involved, that they’d been sacked because of him, things might get ugly.

“Should I know who is on that list?” Owen stared at Zach, trying to read him, but his expression was impassive.

“You said you didn’t want to know.” Zach spread his hands.

“Yeah, well, that was before someone attacked Quinn and left a little note for me.”

“What? When?”

“Yesterday. I went to pick her up, but she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry, man.” Zach’s jaw went slack. Genuine reaction. “Is she okay?”

“She’s dealing better than I am.”

“When did this happen?” Zach pulled out a pen, clicking it several times.

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“It’s not list related.” Zach shook his head.

“How do you know?”

“Because the FBI didn’t turn over the list to the police until this morning.”

“Then...”

Shit.

“I’ve got to get back to Quinn.”

Who’d attacked Quinn? What beef did they have with Owen? What danger were they in now?

Quinn glanced up, but it was just Levi coming back from the bathroom.

Where was Owen?

Quinn had blinked and suddenly her stomach was gnawing on her spine. She’d thought he’d have been back by now. Or had she lost all grasp of time?

Everything was in place, she’d organized all her pieces and tools, now she just needed to eat and jump back into the fray.

But where was Owen?

She bit her lip.

What if something happened to him?

They’d been so worried about her for the last week that she hadn’t quite come to grips with the idea that Owen could be in danger, too.

She snagged her phone, but it was already dead. The cord was somewhere in her bag, which was...

There.

Quinn scrounged out her charger and plugged the phone in, but it would still take a little while to get enough juice to ring Owen.

What if the person who’d drugged her went after Owen? What if he was lying in an alley somewhere?

“Levi?” She turned.

“Bananas.”

“What?”

“Huh?” Levi glanced up. “Sorry—what?”

“Bananas, what?”

“Oh, sorry. The guys think it’s funny to walk by and talk to me. They don’t want anything, they’re just trying to mess with my head. So I just reply with random words.”

“I see.”

“Something wrong? Need anything?” He straightened and set the tablet on the base of the stand.

“Has Owen texted you? My phone’s dead, and I’m just worried. He’s been gone an awfully long time.”

“Yeah, he left...over an hour ago. Weird. Let’s see.” Levi slid his phone out of his back pocket.

She’d been so immersed in what she was doing and her stuff that she hadn’t thought about Owen at all. How selfish was she? Dear god, if something had happened to him, she’d never forgive herself. If the person who’d drugged her was really after Owen, there was no telling what they might have done to him.

“It’s ringing,” Levi said.

Please be okay...

“Still ringing.”

Quinn wrung her hands, her insides knotting up.

The rear shop door creaked open, a long rectangle of gray light and a brisk breeze penetrating the sterile calmness of the small garage.

“Can someone give me a hand?” Owen asked.

Quinn rushed forward, grabbing the drink caddy. She sucked down a deep breath and counted to five.

She would not overreact.

“What took so long?” Levi stole the words out of her mouth.

“I ran by Zach’s office, then some guys from work tracked me down for a few questions. Sorry about that. I texted you,” Owen glanced at Quinn, “but I’m guessing your phone died.”

“Busted.” She winced.

“I smell food.” Duke strode into the workshop followed by Javier.

“Got your text. Food’s in the bag for you, Javier.” Owen shook one of the two large bags.

Quinn set the drinks down at her workspace. She wrapped her arms around Owen’s waist, not even waiting for him to divest himself of the meal. She’d allowed herself to get lost in her own world to the point she’d forgotten about him, the danger, what might go wrong, and then the fear of him had nearly drowned her.

What would she do without him?

This relationship was new, but he was already an integral piece of her. She couldn’t function without him. She needed him.

“Hey, I’m right here,” he muttered, stroking her back.

“I know.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I talked to Zach. It’s not anyone at HI-Co.”

Quinn lifted her chin. Owen’s voice was weird, his stare full of meaning.

“What’d he say?” she asked.

“He’s still looking, but it sounds like someone wants to scare you off this project.” He squeezed her arms.

“Who?” Levi asked.

“Who what?” Javier parroted.

Quinn winced.

The fewer people who knew about this, the better.

“Seems that the break-in at Quinn’s place might be the competition trying to stop her from working,” Owen said.

“What are you working on, again?” Levi squinted into space, his glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose.

“Nothing, now.” Quinn let go of Owen.

She needed to stop the battery project. This was too big, too scary to continue with. Her life—and Owen’s—were not worth the risk. If they were willing to target them, what about Kierra?

“Quinn’s working on some sort of new battery.” Owen gestured at her. “She can tell you better than I can.”

“I’m not working on this anymore,” Quinn blurted.

“Sure you are. We talked about this.” Owen turned toward her, the food forgotten.

“No.” She recoiled. There were things in life more important than the grant, than being recognized.

“Quinn...” Owen reached for her, but she took another step back.

He’d convince her otherwise. Owen was good at that. But this time she needed to hold firm.

“What’s the problem?” Levi asked.

“Quinn’s working on some sort of new battery design.” Owen never took his eyes off her. “The break-in the other night and some other...things, they appear to be the competition trying to steal her work, or stop her from completing it. We don’t know yet.”

“We had a guy break into our R&D lab when I was working in California. The whole thing was out of some Mission Impossible movie.” Levi shook his head. “These things get intense.”

“See? That’s why this is dangerous.” Quinn flung her hand toward Levi.

Owen glared at Levi for half a second.

“If you know they’re after your work, they can’t be that good.” Levi unwrapped his burger. “No offense.”

“What do you mean?” Quinn frowned.

“I mean, corporate espionage is big business. They hire the best people they can to protect what they’re doing, and get ahead of the competition. You’re a small, privately-owned lab. You do good, solid work, but chances are, you’re working on one part of the whole of their project. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” Quinn had organized several projects just like that over the years.

“What’s the project?” Levi asked yet again.

“Magnesium batteries.”

“Rechargeable?”

“That would be a bonus aspect of the prototype, yes, but not one of the goals.”

“How far have you gotten?”

“I’ve been able to make it small scale, with decent charge, but it doesn’t last long.”

“That’s the story of most magnesium batteries.” Levi leaned back in his seat. “Have you tried scaling up?”

“I got the impression everyone else was working on bigger models, so I thought I’d try for something small, portable. Stand out with the convenience factor.”

“Hm.” Levi chewed a bite. “Good theory, but this is—what? A conference? A show? Some sort of...?”

“It’s a smaller conference in Portland. Privately funded grant program.”

“You want something that’ll wow them—if you don’t mind my input. You can always tell me to mind my own business.”

“No, please. I’m desperate for professional opinions that aren’t biased against me.”

“The iPod revolutionized the way we listen to music, our phones and the way we browse the internet. It all started with a simple MP3 player. But it took a while for the concept to catch on. Small and practical is great, but if all you have is five minutes or less to capture a judge, you want to do something that makes them...wow, you know?”

“Is that why you’re working on electric motorcycles?” Javier asked between bites of food.

“Yes and no.” Levi grinned. Under the shaggy hair, glasses and bookish ways, he had a speed demon streak ten miles wide. Quinn had heard Owen give Levi grief a number of times for having more speeding tickets than the rest of the guys combined. “Do you have the materials to make something bigger?”

“I’d have one shot at getting it right. My biggest challenge is still delivering a high enough voltage. But who am I kidding? It’s probably not a good idea.”

“Don’t worry about that. You’re thinking too practical. All you have to do is shine for sixty seconds, five minutes. Proof of concept, not ready for market. You’re good. You’re smart. You’ve got this, if you want it badly enough.” Levi propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “And if you don’t want to do it, that’s fine, too. But...make it your choice.”

Quinn opened and closed her mouth.

She didn’t know what to say to that.

Levi was the real deal. He worked full time developing new, mostly electric, sports cars. Luxurious things that the average person would never see, let alone drive. And he was giving her advice. She’d be a fool to not take it.

“And, just putting it out there, if you’re ever looking to leave HI-Co, one of my co-workers can’t keep an assistant to save his life. It’s not what you do now, it’s in the lab sort of stuff, but with your experience and background, you’d probably save his life and learn a lot of hands-on stuff. If you’re open to it.”

“T-thank you.” Quinn didn’t know what else to say.

“She’s not going to cry, is she?” Javier stared at Quinn with wide eyes. “Pia lost a case this morning. I’ve already been cried on by one woman.”

“Don’t be a dick, asshole.” Duke pegged Javier with his balled-up burger wrapper.

Quinn turned toward Owen, hugging him to keep her overwhelmed tears to herself.

So often in her life, when a door shut, it made her room a little darker. To not only have another option opening up, but to have real, valuable input was...it was more than she’d thought to ask for.

But she still couldn’t do it, could she? Was it worth the risk?

Hansel placed the last cocktail behind the sofa and backed into the middle of the room. He inhaled, searching for the faintest scent of accelerant. He’d been meticulous, changing his clothes, showering, even going to the effort of wearing plastic booties, all to make sure there was no indication of what was to come. Each bottle had been carefully wiped down to prevent the smell giving the surprise away.

Watching the detective flutter around his lady was satisfying. Hansel would like to drag this out, really relish the reactions, but he also wanted to get paid. Tonight’s last act would be a showstopper, and if it all went off well, he’d take these memories with him to his grave. His brother would be avenged and the world set to right. Or as right as it could be without his brother.

Hansel dug inside his bag for the cuffs. He took one pair to the bathroom and the other he stashed in a kitchen drawer.

Eventually, the love birds would come home, and when they were least prepared, he’d spring the trap. If he’d calculated the burn rate right, he’d get a good five minutes of listening to them sing before he had to head out.

Hell, he might record the show.