Game of Fear (22 page)

Justin had those gifts. She couldn’t take her eyes off the boy whose intelligence had seduced her and whose warm kisses made her feel special. She never wanted to forget those feelings.

He met her gaze, raised his fingers to his lips, and turned back to the monitor. A few minutes into his next mission, his joy dissolved into confusion, then flashed to fear as comprehension dawned.

Oh God. He’d recognized the truth behind the game. He dropped the controller to his lap and lowered his gaze.

He wasn’t quick enough.

The red-haired guard strolled over. “Congratulations, Mr. Connell. Come with me. We’re transferring you to the primary testing room to complete this mission.”

Just as they’d planned, except now she and Justin both knew the real stakes of the escape. Billions of dollars, so many lives. This was bigger than three sixteen-year-old kids.

God, Deb, what have I gotten myself into?

It was more important than ever that Dave get past Level 88, too. He and Justin needed to be in the same location or their plan might fail.

She squinted at Dave. His brow was furrowed; his entire body tensed and he looked panicked.

This was not good. Maybe she could set another time bomb so the grid to this room would blink off as well. It was risky, but Ashley doubted she could hide what she’d done more than a few hours anyway.

Floyd had warned her of as much.

“They check the security logs and keystrokes every night. Anything unusual, they’ll know it,” he’d said.

With shaking hands, Ashley brought up a window and dove into the security codes. Fear drove her as she slid past one wall after another. Her layers ran deep. The timing had to be perfect.

“Ashley.”

She jumped.

Not Niko. The sleazy voice of the red-haired man whispered in her ear. “This isn’t the section of code the Warden assigned to you. What are you doing?” His voice was low, menacing, and horrifyingly pleased to have caught her.

She swallowed. She hit a button and the window disappeared, but she knew it was too late. She closed her eyes. Had she just killed them all?

“This is the section that came up,” she protested. “I’ve had a few glitches on my computer today, but my assignment is nearly done. See?”

She pulled up the window she’d been working on as slowly as she could get away with.

The redheaded man turned off her monitor. “Go to the Warden’s office. He’ll deal with you.” The man smiled, his eyes much too eager. “Or, maybe I’ll be lucky and he’ll turn you over to me.”

The sheriff’s official car screamed into the Sammy’s parking lot and pulled up next to Garrison’s. Great, just what they needed. Gabe had dealt more with the sheriff in the last few days than in his entire tenure as a deputy.

He preferred the latter.

Sheriff Tower threw open the door and slammed it behind him. He hitched his hands in his back pockets and a sneer creased his face. “Well, isn’t this a nice cozy group? I have some questions for the bunch of you.”

John Garrison stepped in front of Anna, and Gabe did the same with Deb.

Deb elbowed Gabe. “I don’t need your protection,” she hissed under her breath.

Anna pinched John’s arm. “What she said.” She winked at Deb.

“Sheriff Tower,” Garrison said, by way of greeting, though his voice sounded cool. “What brings you here?”

The captain might be sleeping with Gabe’s mother, but the guy was stand-up. He didn’t back down from the sheriff. Gabe had to respect that. He’d just ignore that whole sleeping in the same bed idea.

“My town is going to hell and I want some answers, Captain.” Tower’s sharp gaze narrowed at Gabe. “Do you have any for me,
Deputy
?”

“No longer wear the badge, sir.” Gabe tapped his leg.

“So the captain told me.” Tower looked around at the destruction. “The ME’s office identified Ernie Rattori as the former owner of the hand left on your front porch. Fingerprint match.”

Gabe’s stomach sank. He’d suspected, but he’d hoped the hand wasn’t Ernie’s.

“What have you got to say about that, Wexler? Why did I get a call from the press wanting a confirmation of the story when my own detective didn’t see fit to inform me?”

“I’ve been working the explosion this morning, sir,” Neil said through clenched teeth.

“Rattori was a snitch the vice squad used on occasion,” Tower said, as if Wexler hadn’t even spoken. “A known informer. You are no longer on the force, Montgomery, yet he showed up to talk to you several times. Wexler, you’ve been less than forthcoming with your investigations. If I were a suspicious man, I’d think you were working together. Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

Gabe shrugged. “I wish I could help, Sheriff. With the struggling economy, I’ve got beggars coming to the back of the bar all the time asking for handouts.” Gabe shrugged. “I gave him a meal a few times.”

“I thought you might deny any involvement. You’ve spared yourself an interrogation. For the moment.”

Two more sheriff’s cars pulled into the parking lot. Four deputies exited. Two with smiles, two looking as if they’d just downed a bad batch of wings.

Gabe’s urge to slip his hand to his weapon nearly overcame him. “What’s going on?”

One deputy pulled out his handcuffs. “Detective Wexler?” The guy gulped. “I’m sorry, sir. I have to arrest you for conspiracy and theft of official evidence.”

Neil stood, stoic, while the deputy’s voice shook. The officer pulled Neil’s hands behind his back. His jaw jerked, but he said nothing.

“This is crazy, Tower.” Gabe stepped forward, but two of Tower’s musketeers placed their hands on their weapons.

“Take him away.”

The deputy read Neil his rights. He looked over at Gabe. “I didn’t do this.”

“I know.” Gabe was certain, but innocent men went to jail. Especially when the brass wanted you to, and Tower looked much too confident.

“I’ll call your rep,” John promised.

“More important business first,” Neil said. “Call my wife. Tell her I love her . . . and I miss her.”

The deputy pushed Neil into the vehicle. Tower placed his hand on his weapon and faced Gabe. “If I discover you’re in collusion with the detective, I won’t hesitate to arrest you. I suggest you stay out of trouble, Montgomery.”

The sheriff turned on John Garrison. “Meet me in my office first thing tomorrow morning, Captain. We’ll be having a discussion about how you run your division . . . and exactly how little control you have over your staff . . . and ex-staff. I believe it’s time for some changes.”

Sheriff Tower sauntered away.

“He’s a piece of work,” Deb said. “What are you going to do?”

“Gabe’s not doing a damn thing but continuing his investigation,” John said. “I’ll take care of Neil. Tower just overplayed his hand. I have friends, too. In the Justice Department.”

“He’s been planning this,” Deb said.

“You’re right.” Gabe surveyed the scorched parking lot and what remained of the bar. “What I don’t get is why, along with the Gasmerati evidence, they accused Neil of taking the information on Shannon Devlin’s case. It doesn’t make sense. Tower had plenty of cases to choose from.”

“Unless he’s planning to pull you into his web,” Anna said, her eyes worried.

Gabe touched her cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

She shook her head. “No, you won’t. Not until this is over.”

His mother was right. As always. “We do know one thing,” Gabe said. “It won’t hold water in a court of law, but I think we just got our proof that Tower is in bed with Jeff Gasmerati.”

The cold January air whipped from off the Rockies and sent a shiver through Deb. Gabe followed her up the stairs to her apartment, though this time they went more slowly in deference to his leg. “I’ll just change clothes.”

“Pack for more than one day,” Gabe said, his hand hovering over the holster sitting under his jacket. “Until this is over, I don’t want us staying in one place.”

When she reached the landing, Deb paused. A package rested on her doorstep. “Weird. I didn’t order anything. Especially overnight delivery. That’s not in the budget.”

“Step away from the package,” Gabe ordered sharply. He set down the duffel he’d packed before leaving his house, unzipped it, pulled out a small leather kit and a cotton swab. Gently he swiped the outside of the package, then placed the swab into a test tube. He shook it.

The liquid turned green.

“No explosive residue. But that doesn’t mean it’s not rigged—”

“You always carry an explosive detection kit around with you?”

“After last night, I carry a lot of things on me that I never did before.” He handed her the padded envelope.

“Oh my God!” Deb stared at the address label. “Ashley.” Her knees shook. She threw her arms around Gabe. “She’s alive!”

“How do you know?” He took the package from her and studied the address label. “From Intelligent Solutions?”

“No, no. Look who it’s addressed to.” Deb pointed to her name.
Admiral Deborah Lansing.
“No one but the family uses that nickname. She’s alive.”

Deb couldn’t stop grinning. She unlocked the door, hurried across the room, and checked her answering machine. “No messages. Ashley didn’t call.” Deb scrubbed her hands over her face. “But, somehow, she sent me a message.”

Her legs couldn’t hold her any longer. She collapsed on the couch, nearly overwhelmed with relief.

“Hopefully there’s a note or something telling us where she is.” Gabe pulled out a pair of latex gloves from his duffel and sat down beside her. She leaned forward watching his every move. Her leg bounced with urgency. Was it almost over? Was this the key to finding Ashley?

Carefully, Gabe opened the flap and pulled out a box. “
Point of Entry
.”

“There’s got to be more,” Deb said.

Gabe opened the packing and peered inside. “Nothing.”

“No note?” Deb’s body sagged with disappointment, like she’d plummeted from a plane with no parachute. “There’s got to be something.”

For several minutes they carefully scanned every inch of the package. Deb shook her head. “Nothing on the outside or the inside.”

Gabe flipped the case over. “Intelligent Interactive makes the game. But that’s not who sent the game. What is your sister trying to tell us?” Gabe slipped his new phone from his pocket and hit the Speaker button.

“Hey, little brother, I’m still working on Dad’s files,” Luke said. “Any new crisis since last night?”

“Just another crazy mystery. Deb just received a package from Ashley.”

“What the hell?” Luke asked. “Where is she? Where’s she been?”

“It’s not that obvious,” Gabe said, handing Deb the phone. “You explain it,
Admiral.
”

Deb could barely speak, but she explained Ashley’s hidden message.

“That’s one smart sister you have,” Luke said quietly.

He didn’t add what Deb knew. That if Ashley had gone to these lengths and been unable to include a note, she was also in serious trouble. While part of Deb wanted to shout for joy that Ashley was alive, part of her heart twisted in agony.

No telling what her sister was going through, and they were no closer to finding her.

“She’s special,” Deb said, her voice choked. “We don’t know why or how, but I’m looking at
Point of Entry
VIII
right now.”

Luke didn’t speak for several seconds. “You can’t be,” he said. “
Point of Entry VIII
isn’t even out for reviews yet. Super top secret.”

“Which means Ashley is somewhere that has access to the game.” Gabe fingered the box. “Should we try to play it or at least open it? See if she managed to send us any other message inside?”

“Has it been tampered with?” Luke asked.

“No. It’s still sealed.”

“Get Forensics to test it first. Unless you’ve already contaminated the evidence.”

“I’m not a rookie.” Gabe scowled at the phone. “I’m wearing gloves, but who am I supposed to trust?”

“Good point. I’ll keep investigating things from my end,” Luke said.

“And I’m phoning the FBI. I don’t trust anyone local,” Gabe said.

Deb gripped his arm. He gave her a tender smile and for the first time in what felt like forever, hope rekindled.