CHAPTER TWELVE
Brent opened his front door and deactivated the alarm. He stepped aside for Rowan to enter. “Welcome to my home, Rowan.”
She brushed past him with her overnight bag in hand. Inside, she glanced around.
Would she like his house? It surprised Brent to note that her opinion mattered.
“It’s beautiful. How long have you lived here?”
“Five years.” He turned, trying to see the room as Rowan might. The chocolate leather couch and love seat, lamps, end tables, coffee table. All chosen for comfort and functionality rather than beauty. A man’s choice, he admitted to himself. He’d only had himself to please for years.
Brent glanced at the large-screen television, expecting to see the shattered glass. Instead, a brand-new television was on the wall, this one bigger than the original one. One of the techs must have replaced his old one. Fast work, especially since they replaced so many windows. They must have brought in a small team to accomplish so much in a short space of time. “Incredible,” he murmured, walking through the house with Rowan trailing behind him. From one room to the next, he noted the changes in each location. That his employees cared enough about him and his home to go to this much trouble humbled him. Brent made a mental note to find out who repaired, replaced, or reorganized his belongings.
“You act like you’ve never seen your own house before,” Rowan said, amusement in her voice.
“When I left here yesterday, I had several broken windows and many other things were destroyed during the break-in, including that china you want to try and match. I asked for techs to examine my computer in case it had been tampered with. I expected to be up late tonight tossing things trashed by Carstairs. My team cleaned up and replaced what they could, not something I asked them to do.”
“They must think a lot of you.”
He led Rowan to the dining room, grateful to see several larger pieces of the china on the table.
“Brent, this china is so gorgeous. I hope my friends can find replacements. I’d love to see a full set of this used at a party.”
Party. Right. Not at the top of his priority list. “The guest room is this way.”
Brent opened the door to the room where Rowan would stay. Thankfully, Carstairs hadn’t gotten this far before the police response chased him off. “This room all right?”
“Are you kidding?” Rowan turned in a complete circle. “A queen-sized bed and an attached bathroom? What more could a woman ask for?” She smiled.
He chuckled. “You’re easy to please. Towels and washcloths are under the sink. I’ll leave you to get settled. Come find me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
Brent backtracked to the kitchen and peered into his refrigerator. He wasn’t sure how Rowan was feeling at the moment, but she needed to eat soon. Rowan hadn’t eaten anything. Couldn’t continue if she was to keep functioning. She had to be strong for Alexa and that meant taking care of herself.
He wasn’t a world-class chef like one of his operatives, but Brent loved to grill. He pulled out two steaks and two baking potatoes, then went back to look in the vegetable crisper. Salad in a bag. Perfect. Yeah, his foodie operatives would turn up their noses at his pre-packaged salad. Brent liked the convenience and eating any salad balanced out the occasional soft drink in his mind. Besides, he didn’t feel guilty if he had to pitch a bag of salad in the trash because of a string of late nights or out-of-the-country operations.
He left the salad in the refrigerator and prepped the steaks. Leaving them to marinate, he unlocked his French doors and approached his grill. His grill was a work of art. Once he turned on the grill, Brent returned to the kitchen.
His doorbell rang. Brent frowned until he glanced at the security monitor and saw Zane Murphy. Why had Z driven all the way out here?
Brent unlocked the door. “Zane, what are you doing here?”
“You live in the boonies.” Zane scowled as he zipped past Brent into the living room. “You should move closer to work. Save a lot of wear and tear on your ride.”
“Yeah, yeah. Micah tells me the same thing and he lives as far from work as I do. I like it here. The area is quiet and the neighbors don’t bother me.”
“What neighbors?” Zane countered. “This place is surrounded by trees and has a long driveway. You can’t even see the house from the road.”
That was the point. Brent didn’t want neighbors knowing his schedule and he didn’t like crowded areas.
Zane reached into the pocket at the back of his wheelchair. “I brought you a new laptop. Carstairs tried to access the files on your old one. This computer has my latest security program.”
“Isn’t that program still in development?”
“Finalized the program yesterday.”
“Excellent. Can’t wait to see how fast our clients snap up this program. Do you have a few minutes, Zane?”
“Sure. Claire is off on another wedding photo shoot. She won’t be home until later.”
“Come back to the kitchen. You want a steak? I’m manning the grill as soon as it heats.”
Zane moaned in appreciation. “Your steaks are legendary. I’ll pick up dinner for Claire on the way home.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll fix her a steak and potato as well. Take them to her with my thanks for letting you stay late several times in the last few weeks.”
“Not necessary, but I’ll take them just the same. How can I help?” Zane asked as he followed Brent. He set the new laptop on the kitchen counter.
“Have your laptop with you?”
A snort. “Of course I do.”
Brent grinned. “There have been a few developments in Rowan’s case.”
Zane straightened in his chair. “What developments?”
“Carlos Salazar admitted accepting a commission to kill Rowan.”
“Who put a price on her head?”
“Guy who calls himself Invisible Man.”
A huff of laughter was Zane’s response to that moniker. “Motive?”
“He thought he’d collect easy cash. Also, Rowan’s sister stopped by Coffee House yesterday and left a flash drive with one file on it for safe keeping. The contents are in code.”
“Ah. You put Adam on that, didn’t you?”
Brent nodded as he returned to the fridge and grabbed two more steaks and potatoes. “You should have seen the difference in Adam’s attitude.”
“Having a purpose will do that.”
Brent studied his friend. Zane ought to know. After he’d been paralyzed on a SEAL mission, Zane fought to reclaim his life and find a purpose himself. “Today, Cal went with us to the Maxwell place. Rowan needed the Maxwells’ clothes for the funeral director. The house had been ransacked.”
“They were after the flash drive?”
“That’s my take on it.”
“If that flash drive is their objective, the file must be something worth killing for.”
Brent wanted to push Adam to work faster. All he’d do is frustrate his operative and slow the work. Much as he hated to wait, Brent trusted Adam. Nobody was better at cracking codes than Adam Walker.
There were other avenues to explore, ones Zane could help him with. “I need a list of Jay Maxwell’s associates, employees, rivals, and enemies. I want to know who had reason to want this man dead.”
“What about his wife?” Zane dropped his voice. “The first people cops look at are spouses. There’s a reason for that scrutiny.”
Footsteps heralded Rowan’s approach.
He and Zane turned toward the threshold.
Rowan pulled up short. “Hello,” she said to Zane. “I’m Rowan Scott.”
He rolled forward and extended his hand. “Zane Murphy. Maddox has bragged about your coffee for almost a year now. I’m glad to put a face with the name.”
“Zane brought me a new laptop,” Brent said. “He’s also staying for dinner. I hope you’re hungry, babe.”
Rowan wrinkled her nose.
“You should be.” He seasoned Zane and Claire’s steaks, scrubbed the potatoes in the sink, and wrapped them in foil. “You have to eat to stay strong.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Try.” Zane reached out and clasped her hand for a moment. “You can’t afford to become ill, sugar. Eat for your niece if you won’t do it for yourself or Brent.”
She studied him. “You sound like you know something about the effects of stress on the body.”
The tech guru chuckled. “Unfortunately. Comes with the territory in the military and black ops.”
Brent grabbed the foil-wrapped potatoes. “I need to put these on the grill. Z, care to try and beat me at a game of dueling computers?”
His friend rolled his eyes. “Making me work for my supper?”
“Might as well work while we wait for the food to cook.”
“You’re all heart.” Zane’s eyes twinkled as he placed Brent’s new computer on the small kitchen table, then pulled out his own laptop and booted up his system.
Brent shook his head as he made his way to the grill. He’d planned to call Zane later and have him start on the Maxwell searches anyway or have one of his geeks do it. Had to admit, though, he much preferred Zane. While Brent only hired the best, no one was as good at a computer keyboard as his former SEAL teammate.
Once the potatoes were on the rack, he returned to see Zane working while over his shoulder Rowan watched the screen.
“That’s it,” she said. “Maxwell Imports. I don’t know what he imported, but he made good money. I think that’s why my sister stayed with him. She and Jay married the day she graduated from high school. He told her she had no marketable skills, that no one would hire her if she applied for a job. She also worried Jay would take Alexa from her if she left him. There was no proof Jay abused Heather.” She scowled. “I couldn’t testify to injuries since I never saw any.”
“Why did you suspect mistreatment?”
“The careful way she sometimes held herself. I’ve hurt myself enough times over the years to recognize the signs of injuries. I confronted Heather more than once. She refused to say anything against Jay.”
Zane’s expression grew more grim as Rowan spoke. “Did he hurt his daughter?”
“If he had, Heather would have left Jay despite his threats. At least I hope she’d come to me for help. If she had proof Jay hurt Alexa, no judge in the state would have granted him custody of her. I have to find my niece, Zane. She must be terrified. What if she thinks I abandoned her?”
“We’ll figure out who took Alexa and get her back. We’re good at what we do, Rowan.”
Her gaze locked with Brent’s. “I’m counting on that.”
He nodded, pulled out a chair for her beside him. “Z, anything I need to know about your new program?”
Zane walked him through the process of negotiating through the layers of security.
Nice. Multilayered, complicated on the design end, but simple for the authorized user. “And if Carstairs gets his mitts on this laptop and tries to break the encryption?”
“The hard drive is automatically wiped clean.”
“You could restore it.”
“True, but Carstairs isn’t me.”
“I’m impressed. This is top-notch work.”
A shrug. “I sent you a list of Maxwell’s employees and associates. I’ll dig for rivals and enemies.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Rowan asked. “I have my laptop.”
Brent and Zane exchanged glances. Why not? For her own protection, she should know the key players. If he kept something important from her, she might trust the wrong person and end up dead. His heart rejected that possibility. No, just no. No one would hurt Rowan on his watch. “Search the Internet for any references to Maxwell Imports,” Brent said. “Find out what he was importing and what kind of media coverage Jay’s company had.”
“Will this help or are you giving me busy work to shut me up?”
His eyebrows rose. “You don’t talk that much. Covering that angle frees Zane to search areas you and I can’t get into.”
Her mouth gaped. “Zane, you’re a hacker?”
He laughed. “A first rate one. You’re surprised?”
Rowan’s cheeks turned red. “Don’t you have to obey the law?”
“We stay within the boundaries of the law when we can. Sometimes, we have to bend the rules to protect a client or for national security. Look at it this way, Rowan. The bad guys don’t play by the rules. To stop them, we may work outside the law.”
“I don’t mean to sound critical. I know you save lives.”
“Sweetheart,” Brent said, waited until her gaze shifted to him. “Zane uses his hacking skills for work, nothing personal. You’re right about him saving lives. He finds information we need to keep our operatives and clients safe.”
Brent’s cell phone rang. He checked the screen and pushed the speaker button. “Adam, you’re on speaker with Rowan and Zane. What do you have for me?”
“I cracked one of the codes.”
“One?” Zane frowned.
“There are two lists in this file. I’m still working on the code for the second part of the list.” His voice sounded grim.
“I’m not going to like what you discovered, am I?” Brent asked.
“Not in a million years.” The sound of a door closing came through the speaker. “The half I’ve decoded is a list of names, boss.”
“Do you recognize them?”
“No, but I did some preliminary research on them before I called you. All six men are leaders of radical militia groups around the country.”
Brent scowled. “Homegrown terrorists.”