Midnight Promises (Midnight series) Read online

  He walked back into the kitchen and sat down. He moved quickly and very quietly for such a large man, with an easy athletic grace. He was huge with muscle and she assumed men as muscle-bound as he was would be a little stiff, but no. He was graceful even packing all those muscles.

  Metal nodded at Jacko but addressed her. “You were booked into room 724. I spoke with the head of security at the Regency and he looked at the tapes of the seventh floor. I had him run through the tapes. At 9:15 p.m. the night you arrived, someone jammed the security cameras on the entire floor for fifteen minutes, which is more or less the time it would take to get into your room and see that it was unoccupied. How long did you book for?”

  “Three days,” Felicity answered. Figuring if Lauren was happy to see her, they could hang out for a few days and if not, she could visit Portland. It was her first visit to the West Coast.

  “Don’t cancel,” he warned.

  “No, of course not. Let him wonder where I am.”

  Metal nodded, looked at Jacko again. Some unspoken signal passed between them, which was odd. Felicity thought only women could do that. But what did she know? She rarely communicated with anyone.

  “The head of security is sending me footage from the lobby security cameras half an hour before and after the blackout to see if you can recognize the guy. He probably took the stairs up but he had to cross the lobby. The back entrance was locked all day. And later today we’ll be talking with a friend from Portland PD, purely informally. He’s a homicide cop and this isn’t homicide but I know you want to keep a very low profile. This is a way to get some law enforcement on our side without stirring up the waters. And when we catch the sick fuck he won’t know what hit him. Throw him in a cage.”

  “Perfect,” Felicity breathed. “Thank you so much.”

  She was smart and fast but was completely out of her depth here. She’d barely begun to think it through and he was already on the attack.

  He covered her hand with his. And there it was again—some kind of electrical circuit that warmed her up and made her a different kind of hot at the same time. Like throwing a switch.

  “We’ve got you, honey. You’re safe now and we’re going to get this guy. You have Jacko and me and we work for a company that has a lot of resources. And Bud, our cop friend, is a really smart guy too. We’re going to figure out who this fuck is, why he attacked you, and we’re going to stop him. I promise.” Those light brown eyes were intent as he watched her eyes. “You’re safe.”

  To her horror, tears welled in her eyes. Whoa. Felicity didn’t do tears, ever. She never cried, never got emotional and here she was—a big ball of emotions she couldn’t begin to analyze filling her chest, moving up her throat, coming out her eyes in the shape of water.

  Safe must be her trigger word.

  “Safe doesn’t exist,” she said sharply, instinctively. “There’s no such thing as safe.”

  Both Jacko and Metal narrowed their eyes. What was up with that? Of all people, two former soldiers should know that safety is an illusion.

  There was utter silence, which she was thankful for. She couldn’t argue while all these sharp emotions were rolling around in her chest and her eyes burned. Her voice would crack and maybe other things would crack and come spilling out.

  Finally, Lauren broke the silence, leaning forward, tucking a curl of dark hair behind her ear. She glanced quickly at both Jacko and Metal as if seeking their permission. “We’ll keep you safe, Felicity. Jacko and Metal are really good at that. It’s what they do.”

  “You were kidnapped and Jacko was shot. How safe were you then?” Her head was bent and she spoke to the table.

  Something perverse in Felicity made her say the words, just pushed them out of her mouth. She regretted them the instant she said them. These three people were doing their very best for her, though they’d never met her before. And she’d only known Lauren online. She’d stumbled, wounded, into Lauren’s house and they’d done nothing but look after her and care for her.

  She lifted her head, forced herself to meet their eyes, one at a time. Lauren. Jacko. Metal. “I’m so sorry,” she said miserably. “That was uncalled for—”

  “But true.” Metal sighed. “No offense taken. We thought the danger was over and it wasn’t. We don’t make mistakes like that twice, though, believe me. So no one is going to be catching us unawares until this whole thing is resolved. You have my word.”

  Oh, Metal, Felicity thought sadly. Some things are never resolved, not even over a lifetime.

  Her father’s issues had never been resolved and he’d been frightened, looking over his shoulder, for as long as she could remember.

  Of course her father had been a physicist, not a warrior. But still.

  “Let’s go over the known facts,” Metal said. “What’s our basic intel?”

  She nearly smiled to hear him speak soldier-speak. Al, an FBI agent his entire life, would have called it intelligence.

  “I understand from Lauren that you help people disappear.” Metal directed his even gaze at her.

  “No,” she said. “It’s more complicated than that, and that’s not my main job. My main job is as an IT consultant. This is more of a...a sideline. I create background identities and social media profiles for the...the government on a freelance basis. But I do that rarely. Mainly, as I said, I work in computer security.”

  Metal leaned forward a little. “So you don’t think the most likely explanation is that someone you gave a new identity to wants to erase his tracks and eliminate the person who knows his new identity? You don’t think it’s connected to someone you’ve helped?”

  If only it was so easy. Felicity shook her head. “No, for three reasons. First, I don’t actually create the heavy-duty documents, particularly passports. I created an Ohio driver’s license for Lauren, but that’s because she was my friend. She had a very nasty man after her. I looked at his computer files and he was crazy and bad, a nasty combo. Like Deathstroke. You’ve got Deathstroke after you, you need help.”

  Metal smiled. “Unless you’ve got Arrow on your side. Then you’re okay.”

  Felicity smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. “Unless you’ve got Arrow on your side,” she agreed. “But Lauren didn’t have Arrow. She does have Jacko now and, no offense, Jacko, and I mean this in the best possible way, you look like a real badass. Not many people would want to cross swords with you. But when Lauren and I first connected she was alone with bad guys on her trail. Which is why I agreed to provide actual documents. Usually I provide background ID and social media backstopping for the FBI.”

  Both Metal and Jacko reacted as if they’d been touched by a cattle prod. “The FBI?” Metal asked.

  “You didn’t tell me that,” Lauren complained.

  “No.” Felicity sighed. “I keep it to myself. But I figure I can tell you two without compromising national security.” She peered at the two men. “What clearances did you have? SAP? I imagine that by definition SEALs have been subjected to SSBIs, am I right?”

  Single Scope Background Investigations were thorough and they wouldn’t have achieved elite Special Forces status without passing them with flying colors.

  “Yeah.” Metal sounded like he had a constriction in his throat. “You?”

  “SCI.” Which was a higher clearance. “I wouldn’t be talking about this if I believed that my work for the FBI was in any way involved. So like I said, what I did as a freelancer was provide background for new identities the FBI, and also the U.S. Marshals Service, wanted created. They’d take care of documentation but I would backstop the identity. I create Facebook and Twitter accounts that go back a few years, I create Amazon accounts with a specific intellectual profile, buyer accounts at major retailers, I could fill their laptops with so much detritus that nobody would question the ID. But I was given the phot
os of the persons whose identity needed filling out and I can assure you that I have never backstopped anyone who looked like my attacker.”

  Jacko pursed his lips, eyes narrowed. “Plastic surgery? Surgeons can turn men into women and vice versa. No problem with changing the shape of a nose or cheekbones.”

  Felicity shook her head. “It’s not like I do thousands and so a face or two could conceivably escape my notice. I provide backgrounds for about three or four people a year. It’s very labor-intensive and time-consuming work and I’m only called in when it’s really important that the cover story be good. I work with these people, getting to know their likes and dislikes, so I don’t give a tone-deaf person a passion for classical music or make a couch potato a hiker. They would blow their cover immediately. I would remember the guy who attacked me, even if he had undergone plastic surgery. He was definitely not one of my clients.”

  “And people like me? Your extracurricular activities? “ Lauren asked. “You took me off the grid.” She grabbed Felicity’s hand. “And saved my life.”

  Felicity curled her hand around Lauren’s. “I only help women outside government work. You were my third. I think the FBI and Marshals Service would really frown on me doing this on the side. I don’t think my helping three women has anything to do with this.”

  Lauren shook her head sharply. “If Jorge had found out somehow that you’d helped me get away, he’d come after you to get my new identity, to find out where I was. Do you think these other two women—do you think they talked and unwittingly betrayed you? That the men they were running away from found out about you and thought you might be the key to finding who they were chasing?”

  “It’s not that.” She didn’t want Lauren to think she wasn’t taking this idea seriously. But...no. “Lauren,” she said gently. “We emailed each other for, what? A year and half?”

  Lauren nodded.

  “So, where do I live?”

  Lauren’s mouth shut with a snap.

  Felicity nodded. They’d communicated often, sometimes sharing intimate details, but Felicty was always very careful never to give away identifying data. It was a lesson she’d learned almost before she could talk. “You don’t know. You don’t know if I live on the East Coast or West Coast, in a city or a town. You don’t even know what I do for a living.”

  “I suspected you worked for the NSA or CIA,” Lauren said with a half smile. “Considering the things you knew.”

  Close. But no cigar.

  “Are you going to tell us what you really know? What’s going on?” Jacko asked, his voice harsh. Lauren slide her gaze to him without turning her head, lips pinched with annoyance.

  Oh God, no. Jacko was protecting Lauren, trying to figure out what kind of danger Felicity represented. Lauren shouldn’t be mad at him for that. Having someone watch out for you was...magic. Felicity would give anything to have someone always there, always watching her back.

  Metal put a big hand on her shoulder. “Don’t give us any classified intel you’re not comfortable sharing. But the more we know about your life, the better we can try to figure out who’s after you.”

  She took in a big breath and turned to him. Watched his face carefully. Though he had thuggish features, thick and rough, and a crooked nose that had been broken several times, she saw intelligence in his eyes. And kindness. And he was demonstrably tough, if he’d been a SEAL. She was safe in these hands. Both Metal and Jacko had been elite warriors, entrusted with ensuring the safety of the country. They’d demonstrated trustworthiness a million times over in their careers. Jacko had saved Lauren’s life and was clearly devoted to her. Metal had saved her life, too, and was sitting next to her just waiting to hear how he could help.

  And apparently they’d enlisted the security company they worked for in the quest to help her, not to mention a Portland homicide detective.

  These were serious good guys who were offering serious backing.

  All she had to do was trust them. Easy enough, no? The freaking US government trusted them.

  Her throat seized up.

  Not trusting anyone was practically the family motto. You’d think the Darins had been vampires in hiding, keeping far from the human race. From her earliest memories on, Felicity had been taught not to trust anyone. It hadn’t been subtle either. Once when she had invited home a friend she’d made in first grade, her mother had the friend out the door in five minutes and had been shaking when she told Felicity never to do that again. Trembling with fear, terrorized.

  She’d never invited anyone home, ever again.

  There was no place in her head for trust, except for Al. And Lauren. And, well, looked as if Metal and Jacko were now inside the circle. And Metal’s company...

  Apparently there was now a dizzying number of people she trusted. Had to trust. There was no choice. She was in trouble and couldn’t get out of it herself. She’d always been self-reliant, never needing anyone, but right now, she could barely stand. Getting out of bed and eating a meal had taxed her resources.

  If everyone abandoned her right now, she was as vulnerable as she’d been at the airport. More.

  Felicity looked around the table, at these three people. Lauren was almost quivering with eagerness to help. Metal and Jacko were more low-key but they gave off very strong male we’re gonna do this come hell or high water vibes.

  Lauren cared for her. Jacko was in because she was Lauren’s friend and it looked like he’d do anything for her. And it looked like Metal was in because...because.

  She was walking through Mordor trying desperately to avoid coming into the cone of light of the Eye of Sauron.

  Frodo didn’t do it alone. He couldn’t.

  And yet and yet...Felicity had never asked for help, not once in her life and it scared the hell out of her. How did you do that? What could she legitimately ask of them and what was overstepping the line?

  This was so hard.

  She bent forward, biting her lips to prevent a low keening sound coming from her, like a wounded animal.

  Lauren tilted her head, watching her reaction. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

  Felicity nodded. Hard didn’t even come close to describing what she felt. She’d been wrapped in secrecy and distrust from her childhood on.

  Jacko opened his mouth and Lauren covered his huge dark hand with her own and he stilled immediately. “Metal?” she said softly.

  He leaned forward, forearms on knees, casual, but focused intently on her face. “Sounds like you’re having trouble opening up.”

  She nodded again.

  “We have that problem sometimes, particularly just back from a mission. We’re trained, and trained hard—with harsh punishment as reinforcers—to keep confidential intel confidential. Sometimes the stupidest thing—saying what the weather was like on a deployment—could be a leak that the enemy could use. There’s no way really for us to know what could be dangerous intel or not so, so basically we just shut up. Married guys who can’t tell their wives anything at all about the last three months of their lives, and I mean nothing. Black hole. And it bleeds over into the rest of your life. Censoring yourself every time your open your mouth is hard, it’s easier just to shut up. But then you find you’re not saying anything to anyone but your teammates, and that’s not good. Not healthy.”

  Even less healthy when you don’t even have teammates.

  Well, looked like she had a team now. A temporary one. Her first unless you counted Al. And Al was more a mentor than a teammate or a friend. He’d been as old as dirt for as long as she could remember.

  “Take your time, but you’re going to have to talk to us,” Metal said, his voice low and calm.

  It was time. Was it time? Yes.

  “Okay. Okay. This isn’t easy.” Her fists were bunched in her lap and Metal’s big hand covered them both. His grip was
warm and hard and secure.

  Body is mind and mind is body, she reminded herself. So she unclenched her fists, straightened her back, made sure her central chakra was open, breathed deeply.

  “First of all, I live in Vermont.” When she’d passed through Vermont years ago, right after her parents died, she’d immediately felt at home, felt it call to her. It was only after a few years when she saw a photograph of where her father had worked that she realized it was exactly the same climate, landscape. Her DNA had led her there. “I work on my own as an IT security consultant. I have a high level of clearance but I don’t work on highly classified stuff because I don’t work for the government as an employee. Never wanted to. I don’t like the idea of going into an office. Like I said, through an FBI contact I help provide background on new identities. The FBI IT people don’t have the right touch, they’re not...loose enough, I guess, to put themselves in other people’s shoes. Outside of that I mainly work corporate cybersecurity and we’re not talking defense contractors, we’re talking restaurant chains and tractor manufacturers. They were two incredibly boring but very lucrative accounts and they’ve eaten up most of the past year.”

  Metal watched her. It was as though he was listening to her through his ears but also through his skin and bones. He flicked a glance at Jacko then back to her.

  “We’ll go through those clients with a fine-tooth comb. And pretty soon we’ll be getting the hotel footage. But in the meantime, there’s something else.”

  She looked at him mutely, a pressure starting up in her chest.

  “When I was trying to keep you awake before we got to the clinic I did what we do in the field. Ask simple questions so the patient focuses on something, but something easy. The easiest question in the world is ‘what’s your name?’ No way to flub that one.”

  Oh God, she knew what was coming next.

  “But you flubbed it.” Metal’s face was grim. “When I tapped your cheek to keep you conscious, and asked your name, you know what you answered?”