Blind Rage (17 page)

“Don’t move!” one of them said.

“What’s happening?” Tess said.

“Shut up!” Rosa barked. “Now, since we seem to have the upper hand here, it’s time you handed over the camera.”

“Two men are pointing guns at you,” I whispered to Tess.

“Guns?” she said. “Fine! You want it, take the camera!”

Tess shoved it hard. It slid across the granite countertop and crashed to the floor on the other side. Rosa bent to pick it up, and all hell broke loose. The little Japanese gardener I’d seen at breakfast suddenly appeared in the doorway behind the two men and flicked his wrist. One of them dropped his weapon and clutched at his throat—a sharp steel
shuriken
had embedded itself in his neck. Blood spurted between his fingers in a fine spray, dappling Tess’s face. She shrieked. The other man twirled toward his falling partner, saw the gardener, and swung his weapon. With the stock unfolded, the gun was too unwieldy in the confined space. The small Asian stepped inside the gun’s arc, landed three quick blows, and knocked the gun aside.

“Oliver!” Alice snapped. “Get her out of here! Go! Someplace safe! We’ll take care of this.”

I didn’t need to be told three times. Yanking Tess by the collar, I wrapped an arm around her waist and half dragged her toward the garage. As we blew past, Alice had already waded in to block Rosa’s path, ducking under the deadly swing of the knife blade.

Tess shuddered, unable to get the ferrous stench of blood out of her nostrils. Her face was splattered with the sticky substance, and the thought that someone else’s blood had sprayed her like the special effects in a horror flick turned her stomach. She squelched the impulse to vomit and focused on maintaining her balance as Oliver roughly pulled her through the garage. She heard the car door open and felt his hand press against the back of her head, forcing her to duck. She practically fell in. She fumbled with the seatbelt, but before she could latch it the car started with a roar and jerked forward with a squeal of tires on the concrete floor.

“Holy crap!” Oliver shouted. “Another one!”

A loud thump reverberated through the interior, and the car gave a hesitant shiver before accelerating again, pressing Tess into her seat.

“Another one
what
? Did we just hit something?” Tess gripped the edges of her seat with white-knuckled tension.

“Some
one
, not something. It’s another one of those guys!”

“What guys, Oliver? What’s going on?”

“Hell if I know! Your cook is a slasher, your gardener has Jackie Chan moves, and your housekeeper . . . My god, Tess, you should have seen Alice. She kicked Rosa’s ass. Like that Bond chick—what’s her name?—Michelle Yeoh. You’re asking
me
what’s going on?”

She felt the car swaying from side to side, and judging from the engine’s growl, Oliver was pushing the car down the curvy road far faster than the speed limit. She held on.

“What are you talking about?” she said. “What happened in there?”

Nothing made sense, and her stomach grew queasy again from the twists and turns in the road as well as from the thoughts racing through her head.

“Rosa went psycho is what happened.” Oliver said. “Alice should get her money back from whatever firm did the background check on
her
.”

“But those other men . . . Who were they?”

“No clue. Mercenaries, maybe. Definitely ex-military. Heavily armed.”

“And they were working for, or with, Rosa?”

Oliver briefly described what had happened. Tess fell silent as she tried to work it out.

“This is bad, Oliver,” she said finally. “There’s something on the camera. Rosa’s obviously not who she seems, which means she’s after something my dad was working on.”

“An industrial spy? Gee, and she seemed so nice.”

“Right. No, it might be even worse. My parents tried to keep it from me—to protect me, or whatever—but it wasn’t hard to figure out my dad’s company did work for the Department of Defense. Maybe this has something to do with it.”

“The DoD? You’re right—that’s worse. They could be terrorists, from a foreign government. Jeez, we’re in deep doo-doo here, Tess. How deep we’ll never know without figuring out what was on the camera. And that’s not likely unless Alice and Yoshi got it back.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Tess said. She dug in her pocket and held up the camera’s memory card.

“How . . . ? When did you pop that out?”

“When you handed it to me at school. I . . .” Her voice faltered. “I wasn’t sure I wanted you to see my photos.”

“Why, Tess? You’re an amazing photographer.”

She turned her head away so he couldn’t see the tears filling her eyes. She bit her lip.

“Oh, yeah. You
were
an amazing photographer. It’s because you can’t see them, right?”

She didn’t answer.

“Sorry. Stupid thing to say. I know, you’re wondering how on earth I made it through college, let alone got an advanced degree with such a quick wits. Just think ‘Mark Zuckerberg.’”

“Who?” she said.

“Facebook?”

“Oh. Right. No, actually, I was wondering whose blood is all over me.”

“A member of the goon squad.”

“Is he . . . ?”

“Dead? Yeah, I think so. Your gardener got him in the throat with a throwing star.” Oliver paused. “Did you know he and Alice were, like, ninjas or something?”

She shook her head. “No way. Yoshi taught me some jujitsu when I was little. I liked it, so I joined a dojo. But Alice . . . ? This is crazy, Oliver. What are we going to do?”

“Lay low. Hope that Alice and Yoshi kicked ass and will call us when the coast is clear.”

“Where are we going?”

“My place, I guess. I don’t know where else to take you.”

She didn’t respond.

“Are you okay with that?” he said.

“I don’t think we have much choice.”

“Look, I know you don’t have much of a reason to trust me after just one day—”

“And not exactly a stellar day, either.”

“Yeah, okay. A pretty crappy day, but I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Too afraid of losing your job?”

He was silent for a moment, and Tess wondered why she’d let the remark out of her mouth.

“No,” he said. “Screw the job. They waved guns at us, Tess. This is personal. No one should have to go through the kind of day you just did. I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone do it again.”

Warmth spread through her body, yet, oddly, Tess shivered. His words sounded more confident than she felt. Whoever wanted the memory card in her pocket wouldn’t stop at just one attempt. They had to figure out what was on it and why her father had sent her in search of it. Suddenly, she felt Oliver’s fingers gently caress her cheek, and her head jerked involuntarily. She held her breath. A moment later, he traced the line of her jaw with his finger and then cupped the back of her neck with his hand and massaged the tense muscles there. She sighed, melting into the seat.

No, this isn’t right. I just met Oliver. And what about Toby?

A school of confused thoughts darted through her head, as if frightened by a predatory shark. She sat up suddenly and Oliver’s hand fell away.

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” she said. “Alice and Yoshi could be hurt. They might need help.”

Wind rush and the steady growl of the engine filled the car. Tess feared she’d angered him, but when he replied his voice was thoughtful.

“What if they’re after you, too, Tess? You’re the one getting the messages.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason to call the police?”

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “There’d be a lot of questions. And what if they didn’t believe us? Alice said they’d take care of it. She said to take you someplace safe.”

“Where safer than a police station?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Tess fell silent again, trying to decide if Oliver’s concern was genuine.

Why would he distrust the police?

She didn’t have much choice but to go along. Alice seemed to think he was okay. Then again, Alice had also hired Rosa. And Tess and Alice hadn’t exactly been seeing eye-to-eye recently.

As if I can see at all.

She shrugged and settled back in her seat.

The car slowed and danced to a syncopated rhythm of stop-and-go city traffic. Tess absorbed the sounds surrounding them—the low rumble of a diesel bus, hum of car engines, rush of tires on pavement, a honking horn, distant wail of a siren, and the muffled steady beat of someone’s car stereo woofer nearby—all muted by their expensive car’s soundproofing. Not long after, the car rolled to a stop and the engine shut off.

“Where are we?” Tess said.

“Not far from UW,” Oliver said. “It’s a short walk from here.”

Oliver got out. A moment later, he opened her door and helped her out. He took her arm and walked her down the sidewalk and up some steps. His gentle tug pulled her to a stop, and she heard the sound of a key in a lock. The street sounds receded when the door shut behind them, replaced by hushed music coming through a wall and the clack-clack of her shoes on a hardwood floor. Oliver’s footsteps gave off a soft squeak from what must have been athletic shoes. She tried to picture what he looked like, but quickly gave up in frustration. Smells of fried food, stale pizza, and something that reminded her of sweaty socks wafted past her nose. Oliver pulled her up short again and unlocked another door, then led her inside an even quieter space.

“Home sweet home. It’s not much, but it’s all I need.”

He walked her around the small apartment, telling her what was where, letting her feel her way around. It wasn’t much more than a rectangular box with a bed in one corner, a couch and coffee table across from a small television in the middle, and a kitchen at the far end with a table and chairs that doubled as a dining and study area. A sliding glass door in the kitchen led to a deck outside. She sat down at the kitchen table.

“Would you like something to drink?” Oliver said.

“Water, thanks, if that’s okay.”

A cupboard door squeaked and water ran in the sink. Oliver set a glass in front of her. She drank thirstily, and felt Oliver ease onto the chair beside her.

“Hold still,” he said.

Before she could object, he dabbed her face with a warm, wet cloth. His touch was so gentle she wondered if the blood was even coming off. The thought made her shiver. The lovely sensation of the cloth against her skin and the gesture behind it stopped too soon.

“There,” he said. “Much better.”

She heard the soft hum of a fan and buzz of a hard drive as he booted up a laptop.

“Mind if I take a look at the memory card?” he said.

She fished it out of her pocket and held it out. “What good is it without the camera?”

Oliver took it from her fingers. “Universal card reader. I make a little money on the side putting together presentations for other students. It comes in handy.”

“What, the money?”

“Very funny.” He tapped the keys and clicked the mouse. “Nice photos, but nothing else here—No, wait. There’s a file . . . Damn.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t open it. I don’t know what program to use.”

“Try them all.”

For a moment, the sound of keystrokes and mouse clicks filled the room.

“Nope. Nothing works. I think we need Matt again.”

“Right now? Can’t we just sit for a minute? I . . . I need to think this through.”

“Yeah, I suppose. You must be starved. No lunch. Just a cup of cocoa this afternoon. Can I fix you something?”

“Like what?”

“Ramen? No? A sandwich, maybe? Turkey and cheese?”

“Sure. That’ll be fine.”

Oliver got up, and Tess heard him rustling around in the kitchen.

“I have to get rid of the car,” Oliver said as he worked.

“Why? What do you mean?”

“Look, even if Alice and Yoshi took out Rosa and the bad guys at the house, there was at least one other guy outside who saw us get away. And whoever set Rosa up with that job meant to keep an eye on things, waiting for exactly something like this to happen. I don’t know anything about you or your family, Tess. But whatever your dad wanted you to do, it’s serious. And if it has anything to do with government stuff—military stuff—they can easily track us.”

“You mean we aren’t safe here?”

“I think we’re okay for the time being. I’m new, so I don’t think Rosa even knows my last name, let alone where I live. But they can trace the plates on the car.”

“So what now?” she said.

Oliver set a plate in front of her. “Now you eat. I’ll go dump the car somewhere in your neighborhood and find a way back here. Don’t go anywhere, and don’t answer the door for anyone but me. Okay?”

“Okay.” Tess heard the tremor in her voice.

Oliver put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

Before she could think of a reply, she heard the soft click of the door closing.

Travis sensed something wrong the moment he turned into the drive and saw the open gate. The one he’d had installed. The one that James should have put in when he’d built the house. The gate closed automatically once a vehicle passed through, unless something obstructed the electronic eye. It had happened before. A wet leaf had fallen on the infrared transmitter once, covering it. Another time a crow had tried to wrest the shiny reflector on the opposite side off its mount, bending the angle enough to disrupt the beam.

Travis stopped and got out of the SUV to check. He walked behind the gate pillar, where the LED beam was located. Bending down, he saw snipped wires dangling loose in the light from a streetlamp. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and his pulse raced.

Tess!

Forcing himself to remain calm, he walked back to the SUV and climbed in. He leaned over, unlocked the glove compartment, and took out a pistol, the same HK USP Tactical .45 ACP semiautomatic he’d used in Afghanistan. He sat a moment before starting the engine, then decided to go straight in, act like nothing was amiss. He’d know soon enough if a frontal assault was a bad idea.