“What kind of errand do you have to run tonight?” Fletcher asked not even three bites into the meal. I’d brought Vienna water instead of more wine, since she indicated she was going out.
“A personal one,” she replied. “How long do you think the decryption could last? Let’s say, worst case scenario?”
“Worst case?” Fletcher blew out a breath and then glanced at me. “The food’s good, by the way.” Grudging compliment or not, I’d take it. “As for worst case, the hardest decryption I ever did was on a military-grade server. I did it more to see if I could than because I wanted anything from the database. That took me almost three weeks to get past the first layer of security. While I still maintain Dion is good, I don’t think he’s that good. All I need to do is figure out how he encrypted it, after that, it’ll just be a matter of getting in and pulling up the search tables.”
“Three weeks.”
Was that good or bad? I couldn’t quite tell from her tone.
“It could be faster,” Fletcher admitted as if he, too, couldn’t take her disappointment.
“No, it’s fine.” She waved him off. Yet, it wasn’t because she was quiet for the rest of the meal. Nothing either of us said really engaged her. We had shared many evenings of just easy quiet before but this wasn’t a comfortable silence. Something was clearlyonher mind but she wasn’t willing to share it with either of us.
After we finished, she rose and started to clear the table, pausing to kiss the top of my head. “Thank you for the meal. You take very good care of me.”
Those words elicited the warm glow they always did when she acknowledged her enjoyment, but I caught Fletcher giving me a look as she walked into the kitchen. “What?”
“Not a thing, man,” Fletcher said as he scooted his chair back and picked up a few more of the dishes. Uh huh. Why didn’t I believe him?
I joined them and to my surprise, Vienna and Fletcher stayed in the kitchen doing the dishes, which only left me to wipe down the counters and such. Awkward, but Fletcher proved to be nearly as thorough as I’d told him we needed to be. He needed some practice though.
It wasn’t long before Vienna went upstairs to change and left Fletcher and I alone.
“Do you know where she’s going?” Fletcher asked. I could lie.
I could.
I didn’t.
“No,” I told him. “But she will tell us if she needs anything.” Then, because I would do what I promised to do, I asked, “Do you need any coffee or anything?”
“Yeah, I could go for a cup,” Fletcher said slowly. “Unless you have any Monsters in the house.”
“Monsters are not welcome in this house,” Vienna said and I had the distinct pleasure of watching Fletcher jump. Granted, she gave me a start but I’d gotten rather used to how quietly she could move.
“Damn woman, you need a bell.” Fletcher glared at her but there was absolutely no heat in it.
The corners of her lips twitched. “You need better situational awareness. I’ll be gone for a few hours.” Then she glanced at me. “I’ll text any updates.”
“Thank you.”
She nodded and headed for the door to the laundry room, which led out to the garage. Fletcher stared after her and I sighed.
“Just watching the door doesn’t make her come back any faster.” With that advice, I got busy starting the coffee. It was going to be a long night.
25
Cash
“Well, this was a fucking waste of time,” I growled and swiped my hand over my face.
Finally, I had a breakthrough. The lab processed the blood and it came back as one Fletcher Reed. Using the best resources available to me, I went on a manhunt learning everything I could about the man, which admittedly wasn’t much.
He was twenty-seven. Incredibly smart, graduating high school two years early and in and out of the dean’s office in college for various hacking infractions. It was sheer luck that I was even able to find out that much about him. It seemed someone had made quite a hefty donation in order to lose his disciplinary file.
But he was a member of the famed Reed family. It didn’t take three guesses to figure out who took care of this for him. Luckily, I was able to charm the secretary, who had been serving in that office for the last decade, to share her secrets with me over a meal and glass of wine.
A recent member of the divorcee club, she’d happily soaked up any attention I’d given her. From seeing pictures of her pudgy and ruddy-faced ex-husband, I was a hell of a step up, and what she hoped would be a rebound.