Her phone was too small to view all the home’s security camera screens at once. And once the crowd had left the lobby to follow Evie down the hall, the security cameras became useless.
Roark was still in the dark. She could hear him cursing Reuben but couldn’t see what he was doing. She tried calling his number, but she didn’t hear his phone ring through the microphone. And of course, he couldn’t reach it if it did. He didn’t know she’d hacked her way into Reuben’s computer. She had no microphone of her own to talk with him.
Why wasn’t Reuben answering?
Pris asked her something, but Ariel had shut out everything but her phone. Pressing hard against the seat, she clung to this electronic salvation, her Gibraltar. She widened the images from the cameras in the lobby and tried to see if anyone was looking for Roark.
They weren’t. She finally located Evie’s camera. She and Jax were caught up in whatever drama was happening in that small office. Only Roark and Evie had been wired.
Tears crawled down Ariel’s cheeks, and she wiped at them furiously. Tears were useless. She’d cried a million when she was little, and they hadn’t returned her parents. They hadn’t made her normal, either. They wouldn’t save Roark.
How long before the Russian woman returned and opened the box with poisonous capsules? Where had she gone?
Evie’s camera hurt to watch. It showed a crowd of shouting old people. Ariel left off the sound once she caught glimpses of Jax in the melee. Jax wasn’t wearing any devices. She just knew he was safe and with Evie.
Reuben was supposed to stay in the van, listening to the board meeting. The board meeting... They had planted cameras in the conference room. Ariel played around with the screen, trying to call them up.
A siren screamed so close that Ariel could see the police car’s strobe lights through the raincoat. She buried her head as Pris cursed and turned off the highway.
Ariel couldn’t do three things at a time. She called 911 again, gave them the address again, shoutedtwo murders,and hung up. She prayed she was wrong and that Roark wouldn’t die, but the police needed to be at the apartment house, not following Pris.
Finally connecting with the board meeting cameras, she watched the Russian stride in as if she’d just taken a restroom break. She bent over and whispered to one of the men, who brushed her off in irritation. Russian lady didn’t like that, but she took a seat.
Ariel switched back to Roark’s mic and heard him still muttering curses. He was alive.
In the front seat, Dante spoke curtly into his phone. Ariel hoped he was explaining the situation to the authorities better than she could.
She’d never really spoken to Reuben, but he was Roark and Jax’s friend. She had all Roark’s contacts in her phone. She pressed his friend’s number and heard it ring.
“Roark?” a whisper asked anxiously from the other end.
“Ariel.” She fought through her terror for words. “Roark. Vault.”
“I know. I’m following his dad. He’s got a gun. Roark may be safer where he is.”
Reuben’s voice was so low, she had to strain to hear it over the chaos inside and outside the car. “Sarin kills.”
Reuben cursed. “Papa LeBlanc is looking for a way in the back door of the office wing. I have to go.”
Ariel wanted to scream. Screaming didn’t help any more than tears. Or maybe it would, if it shut up the argument in front. She shrieked louder and longer this time.
Pris and Dante abruptly silenced, thank all that was holy. The police sirens didn’t.
Ignoring Pris’s question, Ariel returned to watching the board meeting. They were arguing, too, and her head spun trying to follow all the words. Her brain wanted to shut down. She moaned and rocked and tried to focus. The tiny phone screen helped.
A blond man with a receding hairline and weak chin called JP wanted to close down operations, sell out, and scatter. He tried to talk about the IRS and financial statements, but the others yelled over him. A more confident, bronzed man smirked at caution and demanded that the JP person bluff their way out of the audit, if the emails were legitimate. Two men named Bibb wanted the emails investigated. Smart men.
The Russian wanted to take the money, flood their offices with overhead sprinklers, and run.
Lost in a world gone mad, Ariel’s focus disintegrated. Weeping and screaming at phones that didn’t communicate, she ignored concerned questions from the front seat.
She wanted her closet. Roark was locked in a closet.
Roark—who laughed at fear, dived headfirst into trouble, and caught the bad guys, as she couldn’t. Roark—who smelled of fresh soap and man and kissed her as no other had. Roark—who couldn’t sit still for two seconds... trapped in a narrow vault, bound and tied.
She wanted him to have superpowers and burst through the ropes like in the comics.
Superheroes should not die from a coward’s poison.