Jane hadn’t expected to get to see Novateur tonight. She’d been looking forward to turkey with all the trimmings and taking pictures on her phone of Maddox’s first Thanksgiving. But once Ryder received the call that his business had been broken into, all of it fell by the wayside. Although he’d insisted she stay, she’d made arrangements for Dreama to bring Maddox home with her. It wasn’t as if there weren’t a dozen people at the Lawsons volunteering to hold him for her.
She followed Ryder’s car as they drove the ten minutes from the Lawsons to Novateur. Unlike McKay Industries, which was located downtown on the Detroit River, Novateur was housed in a modest one-story brick building in the suburbs, not far from where she’d met Ryder for dinner the other night, or her apartment. She wondered if Ryder lived nearby too.
A police car was parked on the street in front of the building, its blue lights flashing. She hoped that the alarm had been set off by accident, but with the things that had been happening this past week, she wouldn’t discount anything. Especially since someone—possibly on Keane’s orders—had already stolen Ryder’s designs. Would a break-in at Novateur be that hard to believe?
Still, it was likely her mind was running away with her.
As she approached the building, Ryder, along with passengers Tristan and Isaac, was already speaking with two officers who were standing in front of Novateur’s broken glass front door.
Ryder went inside and turned on the lights. She waited until all the men had entered before she stepped into the warehouse.
It was much bigger inside than she’d anticipated. There were three rows of kitchens, stretching back as far as her eyes could see. It was nothing like McKay, where all their designs from the innovation department were virtual and made off-site by the manufacturing divisions. She rarely got to see them in action. And their restaurant kitchen demos were still being tweaked because of the software failure. Although now with Evan gone, it was doubtful they’d ever get it working. After hearing the truth about Keane from Ryder earlier, she had to wonder if the software problems stemmed from the fact that her company hadn’t written the software—but had stolen it from Ryder.
The taller of the two cops waved his arm. “The alarm probably scared them off, but you might want to look around to make sure they didn’t take anything.”
Ryder took her hand and led her toward the right side of the warehouse. They followed along the wall, passing a half-dozen kitchens, before he brought her to an open door.
His lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. “I know for a fact I closed this door before I left work yesterday.”
He went inside and turned on the lights.
It was an office.
It wasn’t large or lush. More…functional. A large steel desk covered with forms and papers and the typical office supplies. She walked around the perimeter, taking it all in. There were a couple framed photographs on the wall. Both of the Detroit Tigers. One from the 1984 World Series and the other of the victorious final championship game for the eleventh American League pennant.
Guess he was a Tigers fan. Just a reminder of how little they knew one another.
He went through his drawers like a madman, opening them, staring at them for several moments, and then slamming them closed again. He slid open the thinnest drawer, where she would normally keep her pens and pencils, and frowned. He lifted up a Rolex watch. “My watch is still here. If they were after valuables, don’t you think they would’ve taken this?”
The expression on his face was one she’d never seen before. His pupils were tiny pinpricks and his nostrils flared.
On one hand, his anger scared her. But not enough to run the other way.
Hoping to calm him down, she went to his side and put her hand on his shoulder. “Ryder—”
“This wasn’t a random break-in,” he said firmly. “Whoever it was knew what he was looking for and it wasn’t a Rolex.”
Tristan and Isaac strode into the office.
“Like what?” she asked.
He turned his head and stared at the Tigers World Series photo. “The only thing of real value in this place.”
What?
“Where’s your laptop?” Tristan asked.
Ryder stormed over to the frame on the wall and removed it. There, behind it, was a hidden safe built into the wall. He plugged in a series of numbers and, on a beep, opened the safe. He pulled out a laptop and brought it to his desk.
“Thank God whoever it was didn’t find it,” he murmured. He looked up at Tristan and Isaac. “But my records were rifled through.”
She was confused. What exactly did Ryder keep on that computer and why was it so valuable it needed to be locked in a safe?
“So were ours,” said Isaac. “Not that we keep much here.”
Ryder flipped up the top of the computer and turned it on.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Checking the footage for the past hour. Novateur has video cameras set up throughout the warehouse.” He clicked on a tab and brought up a video. He slid the time backward until a shadow appeared by the front door. She watched as the guy busted the glass with some kind of tool and was able to turn the locks of the door.
Although the video was dark, a small stream of light from the streetlamp gave them a glimpse of the intruder.
“Shit, he was wearing a mask,” Ryder said. “And the video is too grainy to see anything other than one person with broad shoulders and a manly gait.”
“Great,” Tristan said sarcastically. “At least we’ve narrowed down fifty percent of the population.”
She squeezed Ryder’s shoulder. “You should give it over to the police. Maybe they can enhance it.”
“Even if they had the capability to do that,” Ryder said, “the cops aren’t going to take time to investigate a break-in when nothing was taken.”
She wondered if there wasn’t another reason he didn’t want to involve the cops. After what he’d told her tonight about his past experience with a detective, she understood how he might not trust the police.
“What’s so valuable on your laptop that someone might have broken in for it?” she asked.
The room went silent.
Ryder shut down his computer and pushed back from his desk. After returning the computer to his safe, he directed his attention to Isaac and Tristan. “Guys, why don’t you let the cops know nothing was taken, then go back to dinner and enjoy Thanksgiving with your families? I need to talk to Jane.”
After they left, she hoisted herself onto the edge of Ryder’s desk and waited for him to tell her what the heck was going on.
He paced the width of the room. “The designs McKay is developing for the restaurant automation line. How’s that going? Having trouble with the technology?”
She jerked back, wondering how he knew that. He’d already made it clear he believed his father was behind the theft of his designs off his computer at the conference. “Do you think Keane had something to do with this break-in?”
Deep creases formed above his brows. “The short answer is…I don’t know. From the military to your grandfather, there’s been a lot of interest in the technology I’ve developed. That’s why I’ve taken extra precautions to keep it safe.”
“What technology?” she asked, confused. Yes, restaurant kitchen automation was on the cutting edge, but it didn’t seem valuable enough to warrant that amount of interest.
“Other than for general hardware schematics and basic automation, the designs stolen from my laptop on Mackinac were worthless”—he rubbed the back of his neck—“because I’d omitted a part of the coding in the software. The part that enables a computer to learn.”
Her jaw dropped. “A computer learn? That’s not possible.”
“It’s not only possible, but I also developed it.”
“Okay, but why would the military want it?”
He stopped his pacing and turned to her. “How familiar are you with autonomous weapon systems?”
Weapons? What did weapons have to do with restaurant automation?
She tipped her head to the side. “Not much.” More like nothing at all.
“Automated weapons are already a reality,” he explained. “They’ll only do what they’re programmed and/or directed to do. An example is a C-RAM system.”
Having no idea what he meant by a C-RAM system, she shrugged and shook her head.
He took a step toward her. “The counter-missile systems that shoot down rockets. Those systems have radars and sensors that can detect a missile threat, warn us about the threat, and utilize built-in weapons to shoot it down before it can reach land. These still utilize human supervision and give the government owner the opportunity to shut it down, if needed. But an autonomous weapon system doesn’t rely on any human intervention. For all intents and purposes, it’s artificial intelligence, able to process and act all on its own.”
She sat quietly for a moment, allowing herself to process the information. Was he really saying he’d written software that could be used to make a weapon autonomous?
How was that possible?
“Your software can do that?” she asked, doubt evident in her tone. “The software you wrote for Novateur.”
A small grin pulled up the corners of his lips. “Yes. The software I created can be used in a variety of ways. Anything from kitchens to robots to weapons.”
“Keane has never mentioned anything about autonomous technology,” she told him. Even if he had, she never would have put it together with something like weapons. “As far as the innovation department is concerned, we’re purely working on restaurant automation.” She moved off the desk. “But you were right. As you suggested, the software isn’t working.” She paused, something nagging at her. “The programmer I mentioned who’d committed suicide…he was the person working on fixing it.”
Ryder’s jaw grew rigid. “How did he kill himself?”
“Gunshot to the head. He didn’t leave a note and his wife was pregnant.” She took a breath. “Ryder, there’s something else. Evan’s assistant, Barbara…She and her husband were found dead in their home. Accidental carbon monoxide leak. I’m worried their deaths are related in some way. Especially since…”
“Since?”
“Evan tried to talk to me at the wedding. It was right before the ceremony, so I told him we’d meet Monday morning. That was the last time I spoke with him. And yesterday, I saw Keane speaking with one of the police officers as if…I don’t know…” She shook her head. “I just got the feeling that Keane was keeping something from me about Evan’s and Barbara’s deaths.”
She regretted not taking a minute to hear Evan out. If she had, would he still be alive today? A lump of sorrow caught in her throat.
She wasn’t sure if he noticed her melancholy, but Ryder wrapped his arms around her waist. “You have no idea what he wanted to talk to you about?”
“No.” She thought back to that night. “But he seemed nervous. He was sweating. When I got to work on Monday, there was an email from him in my inbox. But it didn’t really say anything and the file he sent was corrupt.”
He rubbed circles on her lower back. “Probably a computer virus. You should have the IT department check your computer.”
“Right. I was going to do that but with everything that’s happened and then the holiday, I never got the chance.” Besides, she’d deleted it from her computer and the antivirus program had come up clean. When she returned to work next week, she’d call IT to take a look at her and Evan’s computers.
“I want to help you find out if Keane was behind the theft of your designs.”
“Oh hell n—”
Before he could finish, she put a finger to his lips. “Hear me out first, okay?”
At his nod, she continued and wrapped her arms around him, setting her hands on his lower back. “Keane trusts me. If he believes you and I are dating, and I convince him that you’re starting to come around to the idea of letting him back into your life, he’ll have no reason to doubt it. And then I can get him to lower his guard, confide in me as to whether he stole your designs and had anything to do with this break-in.”
Ryder didn’t hesitate with his answer. “No. I accept your decision to keep your job at McKay, but that doesn’t mean I like it. The more you interact with him, the more you’re putting yourself in his crosshairs.” The muscles in his back tensed under her hands. “You said it yourself—two people have died in your department. If Keane gets suspicious that you’re setting him up, who knows what he’ll do.”
Jane weighed the risk. Honestly, what would Keane do? Fire her? Despite what she now knew about him, she couldn’t imagine him physically harming her.
“I understand your concern, but at this point, I don’t think I’m in any danger. The second that changes, I promise you I’ll quit.” She reached up and sifted her fingers through his hair. His eyes closed and his jaw slackened as he curled into her touch.
“Jane,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck and holding her tightly to him. “Please, don’t do it. If anything happened to you…”
She held on just as tightly. “He won’t suspect a thing. Trust me, nothing will go wrong.”