What She Doesn't See (8 page)

By the time she was finished with the clean
up, the day had passed. The super planned to do the painting, which
was fine by her. She loaded the hazmat bags containing the remains
she would need to dispose of into the cargo area of her vehicle.
The jumpsuit, gloves, and shoe covers she’d worn were bagged and
ready to dump as well. It wasn’t quite five, she noted as she slid
behind the wheel and drove away. She should probably go back by the
office after she’d taken care of disposal. Or maybe she’d go talk
to Hitch’s partner again and broach the subject of the contact lens
and the house over on Morningside.

All she could do was try to convince him that
something very wrong had gone down last night.

“Alex Jackson?”

Alex almost ran off the causeway at the sound
of the male voice coming from her backseat.

Her fingers went automatically to the console
and the pepper spray she kept there.

“Whoever the hell you are,” she warned, “this
stuff is potent. I’m going to pull over.” She was already slowing,
simultaneously moving toward the emergency lane. “And you’d better
get the hell out as soon as I stop or you’ll regret it.”

“Wait! Please. I’m sorry if I scared
you.”

She relaxed marginally. Okay, what kind of
robber, rapist, or killer apologized?

“Who are you?” Though she’d eased off the
brake and shifted her foot back to the accelerator, she kept her
hand on her weapon.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to sit up
now. Don’t freak out, okay?”

“Okay.” What was he, a leper or something?
He’d apologized for scaring her when he was the one who sounded
terrified. Not to mention he’d prepared her for whatever she would
see when he sat up. What kind of bad guy went to all that
trouble?

Green eyes and sandy blond hair appeared in
her rearview mirror. Young. Twenty-something, she guessed.

“Who are you?” she asked again, her fight
defenses still firmly in place.

“Timothy O’Neill.”

Her surprise had her weaving into the left
lane much to the dismay of the other drivers on the street. Horns
blasted.

She let go of the spray can and allowed her
right hand to rejoin her left on the steering wheel. At least she
knew now why he’d warned her not to freak out. Her first thought
was to ask why he’d been hiding in her car. Second was… hell, she
didn’t know what. “I thought you were dead.”

What the hell was she supposed to do with
him? Take him to the police? How had he found her? More
importantly, why?

“I’m supposed to be,” he said quietly. He
looked away when she would have made eye contact with him again.
“It was a buddy of mine. Back at my house. He was pirating movies
and—”

He abruptly shut up.

“Don’t worry,” she encouraged, “whatever your
friend was doing doesn’t make any difference now.”

His jaw worked futilely a couple of times
before anything actually came out. “Anyway, last night I was in the
kitchen getting something to eat. I saw Detective Hitchcock’s car
pull into the driveway. I mean,” he cleared his throat again, “I
didn’t really see his car. It was dark. I saw the headlights, but I
knew it was him. I was expecting him. When he came to the door he
wasn’t alone.”

“His partner was with him?” She felt certain
that wasn’t the case, but she needed to ask. She didn’t know Patton
that well, but he was one of the good guys. Hitch had said as much
plenty of times.

“My friend answered the door so I didn’t see
the guy, but I heard his voice.” He shrank back into the rear seat,
looking like a small boy rather than a grown man. “I don’t think it
was his partner. Hitch was saying stuff like
you won’t get away
with this
and
leave the kid alone, he was just doing me a
favor.”

A keen sense of anticipation zinged through
Alex. She’d been right. Timothy O’Neill was the guy Hitch had
visited last night. Apparently Hitch had met with someone else on
his way to Timothy’s house. Why hadn’t he mentioned that to her?
Her breath caught. He’d said he was getting another call before he
said goodnight. Could that caller have been the man who killed
him?

Since Hitch hadn’t been alone when he
arrived, the guy with him had to be the caller. Someone he’d
rendezvoused with
after
talking to Alex. Goose bumps
spilled over her skin. “What did you do, Timothy?”

He was staring out the passenger side window
now. “I knew the kid Hitch was talking about was me. He always
called me
kid.”
His voice sounded distant. “I heard a
scuffle and arguing in the living room so I hid. I didn’t think. I
just reacted. I hid in the pantry. Hitch and the dude with him were
arguing... and fighting, I think.”

Ten seconds passed before he spoke again.
Alex’s heart pounded three times for each one.

“I just froze. I couldn’t move. My cell phone
was in the living room with them so I couldn’t call anyone.”

Alex kept quiet. Let him continue in his own
time. She picked up some speed, eased more fully into the flow of
traffic on the causeway and tried to focus on driving. Back to her
office? Home? She couldn’t decide so she just drove.

“There was a lot of noise.”

Alex met his eyes in the mirror but he wasn’t
looking at her. He was remembering.

“I figured the guy was tearing up my house. I
could hear Lenny, my friend,” he explained. “He was yelling that he
didn’t know what the guy was talking about. Hitch was saying
something, but I couldn’t make out his words. The guy told him to
shut up or he would take care of him right there. I knew we...”

When he fell silent Alex glanced up again,
this time his gaze collided with hers in the mirror. “I knew we
were all going to die.”

But he hadn’t, obviously.

“What did you do then?” she prompted when he
remained silent for more miles than she could bear.

“I took a chance and sneaked out the back
door.” He heaved a big breath. “Then I just ran. I tried to wake
one of my neighbors so I could call the police but no one was home.
Or she was in bed.” He scrubbed a hand over his pale face. “I made
my way back to my house, would have gone back inside to try to stop
whatever the hell was going on, but Hitch and the guy came
out.”

“Did you see the guy’s face this time?”
Adrenaline did a number on her pulse rate. This could prove Hitch’s
accident was no accident.

“No.” The croaked word was barely audible.
“It was dark and I couldn’t see from where I was hidden in the
shrubs next door.” He released a shuddering breath. “He sort of
dragged Hitch to the car.”

Alex’s breath caught on the ache in her
chest. Hitch had already been hurt even before he was dragged back
into his car.

“When they’d driven away, I started to go
check on my friend....” Timothy blinked. “The house exploded right
in front of me.”

Damn. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer for a moment. “Yeah. Sure. I
couldn’t hear for a few hours but it’s better now.”

Fury burned through her. The guy had no doubt
driven Hitch to the very place where he would die that night. The
accident hadn’t been an accident at all. Someone had killed him.
Someone who had something to do with Charlie Crane’s death and that
damned contact lens. “We should go to the police.”

“No way.” Timothy sat forward. “Just let me
out here. I’m not going to the police. Whoever the hell that guy
was, Hitch couldn’t stop him. I’m not getting involved with this.
No way. It’s too dangerous.”

He scooted to the passenger-side door.

Alex divided her attention between him and
the traffic all around her. She had to calm him down. “Let me take
you to my place. You’ll be safe there.”

“You don’t get it.” He looked ready to jump
out the door with her moving fifty-five miles per hour. “This thing
you gave Hitch is like poison. Anyone who touches it is going to
end up dead.”

Shifting her full attention back to traffic,
she tamped down the natural trepidation his words evoked. “What
exactly is it?”

“Some kind of new technology storage device,
works just like a computer only it’s tiny and somehow the brain
issues commands through the optic nerve. I’ve heard rumors about
that kind of stuff but I had no idea it existed yet. It has a
shitload of classified information on it. Most of it’s encrypted,
but I deciphered enough to understand what I was dealing with.”

“What kind of classified information?” She’d
made up her mind. They were going to the cops. If she could keep
him distracted long enough he might not even notice until they were
there already at the precinct.

“Government stuff. The kind of data we
civilians aren’t supposed to see if we want to stay alive.”

Government? Classified? She thought about
Charlie Crane. He hadn’t exactly looked like the James Bond type.
Then again, she’d never known a real-life spy.

“Let me out at the next light.”

“Look, Timothy.” She sped through the yellow
light instead of slowing for the stop, afraid he’d make a run for
it. She needed him. Without this guy Patton would never believe
her. “We really need to go to the cops.”

He moved up close behind her seat again. “I
just wanted to warn you. I figured you deserved a chance to save
yourself since Hitch liked you so much.”

Her chest tightened. “If we don’t go to the
police they won’t be able to find his killer.”

“I have to stay dead.” Their gazes locked in
the rearview mirror once more. “It’s the only chance I’ve got of
staying alive.” He reached over the seat and placed a small plastic
sandwich bag on the console.

She didn’t have to look to know it was the
lens she’d given to Hitch. “You had it on you when Hitch and the
killer arrived?”

He nodded. “It was too important to leave
laying around.”

Damn. This was even worse that she’d
suspected. What was she supposed to do with it?

“Make the next right,” he instructed. “I have
to disappear for awhile.”

Alex took the turn and found a place along
the street to park. “Do you have a car?” If walking was his plan
for disappearing, he needed to rethink his strategy.

“I’m good,” he told her without telling her
anything at all. “Like I said, I would have disappeared already but
I needed to warn you and give you back the device. You may need it
and… I owed it to Hitch.”

“I appreciate that.” What next? She wished
she could make him understand that going to the police was the only
reasonable option.

“I don’t know what he might have gotten out
of Hitch before he killed him,” Timothy cautioned, “but I wouldn’t
take any chances. You should disappear, Alex. Or you could end up
dead, too.”

Jesus, she hadn’t even thought of that. What
if Hitch told the guy that she’d seen the contact lens? No. She was
certain Hitch wouldn’t have done anything to endanger her. No way.
He would have died first.

Emotion swelled in her throat. More of those
damned tears burned her eyes.

“Timothy,” she countered with as much
determination as she could muster, “we have to talk to Hitch’s
partner.”

“You don’t get it,” he snapped, “if they know
I’m still alive, if they figure out I’ve contacted you, we’re both
dead.” He reached for the door handle. “I’ve done all I can
do.”

“Alex, Alex, Alex. You have no idea what
you’re getting into.”

Wyatt had been following her since she left
the cleanup job in Carol City. With the locator he’d placed on her
vehicle, finding her again had been easy. Apparently the passenger
had hidden in her SUV before Wyatt’s arrival. The instant he saw
the guy sit up in her backseat, he went on alert.

Johnson’s interrogation had provided the
intel Wyatt needed. He now knew at least one of the other players
working with Crane, and he also knew the detective hadn’t had the
device in his possession when he was killed by Johnson. Detective
Hitchcock had left it with a hacker named Timothy O’Neill.

As soon as the passenger bounced out of
Alex’s SUV, Wyatt recognized him as O’Neill. Wyatt exited his
vehicle and started after the kid. He’d catch up with Alex
later.

O’Neill cut into an alley. Wyatt
followed.

The kid spotted him and started to run.

Wyatt sighed and broke into a sprint. “Give
it up, O’Neill.”

O’Neill glanced back, then around before
bursting into a harder run.

“Have it your way.”

That was the thing about guys like O’Neill,
he might be young but he spent all his time hunkered over a gadget
or a computer. With one final push forward, Wyatt lunged for him.
They went down. Wyatt pinned him to the ground. The kid struggled,
but only for a moment.

“Let me go!”

“No can do,” Wyatt warned.

O’Neill screamed. Wyatt clamped a hand over
his mouth. “Mr. O’Neill, we need to talk. Can I trust you to
cooperate?”

His eyes wide with fear, his heart pounding
so hard Wyatt could feel it, the kid bobbed his chin.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Wyatt had no
desire to nail anyone else to the floor or to start breaking bones
one by one. “I have one question for you. Answer it truthfully and
I’ll see that you’re protected until this is over.”

O’Neill nodded again.

“Good. Now, listen carefully. I’m only going
to ask you once.”

The kid stared at him expectantly.

“Where is the device?” Wyatt cautiously
removed his hand.

“You swear you won’t hurt her?” O’Neill
blurted. She’s a really nice lady.”

Wyatt closed his fingers around the kid’s
throat. “Did you miss the part where I said I was only going to ask
once?”

“Alex Jackson. I gave it to her! She was the
one who found it anyway.”

Alex sat on her closed toilet lid and stared
at the contact lens, storage device, whatever the hell it was that
Timothy O’Neill had given back to her. It was rubberlike and clear
except for the metallic rim. Nothing like the usual sort of contact
lens.