Seconds to Live Page 4

  Not Taylor. “Okay, both of you. Move! Now! We can iron out your differences once I know you’re safe.”

  They stood unmoving, staring at her.

  Taylor got it. Dianne’s life had taken a serious change in course and she had to process it. But now wasn’t the time to sort out her emotions. Now was the time for action.

  Taylor took Dianne’s arm and directed her into her bedroom. Taylor found a suitcase in the closet and opened it on the bed. She eyed Dianne, who continued to stare blankly.

  Taylor needed to break through her shock to make her move. She got in Dianne’s face. “Fill it, Dianne. Now! While I check on Dustee. Do you understand?”

  She nodded woodenly and started throwing clothes from a dresser drawer into the suitcase.

  Confident she would keep packing, Taylor hurried down the hall to find Dustee opening a matching suitcase, tears streaming down her face. Would Dustee actually realize for once that she’d been extremely foolish to risk her agreement with the agency—and her sister’s life—all for an internet fix?

  Maybe. Even if Dustee was tossed out of the program, Taylor hoped that since Dianne had done nothing wrong, she would at least be able to continue in WITSEC. But then Taylor didn’t think Dianne would be willing to leave her twin for any reason, not even to protect her own life.

  And that meant it was up to Taylor to make sure Dianne stayed alive, no matter the cost.

  CHAPTER 4

  TAYLOR PEERED out the apartment window. Phantom could be out there. Watching. She didn’t see anyone lingering near the building, but the street was shrouded in a blanket of fog so thick that she could barely make out the parking lot. If Phantom truly was trailing Dustee, they would never see him. He’d earned his nickname. He was too smart to be seen. Too smart to be caught.

  Two of her fellow deputies rolled up, lights running and spiraling into the murky night. She charged outside and down the walk, glad to see her friend Deputy Roger Glover climb out of his vehicle. One of their best deputies, she could trust him with her life. The other deputy was a fifteen-year department veteran, Jim Coates. Another trustworthy and skilled law enforcement officer. She brought them up to date on the situation and quickly positioned them at intervals along the apartment’s walkway.

  Taylor was likely being too cautious, but never before had any witness who followed the program’s stringent rules been killed. Taylor wasn’t about to be the first deputy in the history of WITSEC to have that happen.

  She hurried back inside, and keeping the twins between her and the building for safety, Taylor rushed them to her car. Adrenaline burned through Taylor’s body, and her heart thumped hard as she quickly got them on the road with the other deputies flanking their vehicle.

  “Is all of this really necessary?” Dustee asked from the back seat, sounding bored now.

  “Necessary?” Dianne’s voice rose a few octaves, and she swiveled to look at her sister. “It wouldn’t be if you’d followed the rules. But no. You can’t do it, can you?”

  Taylor couldn’t have said it any better. She glanced in the mirror to see Dustee’s reaction. Her expression was tight with remorse, but then she’d acted like that in the past only to turn around and do something ridiculous.

  “I’m sorry.” Anyone who didn’t know Dustee would believe her sincere tone. “I don’t know what more you want me to say.”

  Dianne crossed her arms. “How about that you’re done putting me in the line of fire? That you’ll never endanger my life again for some selfish whim?”

  “I won’t.”

  “Pinkie promise.” Dianne held her little finger out to her twin.

  Taylor had seen their childhood ritual too many times to count. In the end, it never meant anything to Dustee, and she broke her promises left and right, but for some reason it still comforted Dianne.

  She was mature, responsible, considerate, and a true pleasure to protect. Dustee suffered from ADD but hadn’t been diagnosed until she was an adult. Their parents had told her often enough that they wished she’d behave more like Dianne, and when Dustee couldn’t manage it, she’d taken the opposite approach to life. Dianne felt bad about the ongoing criticism heaped on Dustee, and Dianne had enabled her sister’s outlandish behavior. Now it was ingrained. Dianne still enabled Dustee, but at times Dianne desperately wanted to tell her sister off and claim she never wanted to see her again.

  Still, no matter how much Dianne protested, Taylor knew she wouldn’t cut off a person who was like a part of her physical being. For Dianne’s sake, Taylor would do all she could not only to keep them safe but together.

  Taylor concentrated on her mirrors and their surroundings for the rest of the drive and didn’t let up, even when she safely trailed Jim into the secured parking structure. She hustled the twins up to the conference room and sat them down next to each other.

  Safe. They were safe. For now.

  Thank you.

  Still, they were mad at each other, and Taylor needed to get them talking and ironing out their differences. She opened her mouth to start the reconciliation process, but the room closed in on her.

  “Go ahead and work this out,” she barely got out as her throat started to close. “I’ll be right back.”

  She bolted into the hallway. Everything hit her at once. The danger. Dustee’s near brush with death. The high stakes Taylor faced every day. The worry. The fear. The loss of her brother. All of it, taking her breath away.

  Her legs collapsed, and she slid to the floor. She’d almost lost a witness. Almost had one murdered. Why? Because she wanted a soak in the tub.

  Selfishness. Pure selfishness. Exactly like her brother, history repeating itself.

  Hadn’t she learned anything with his loss? Carefully thought out every move—every step—every day?

  Yeah, until tonight. And look what happened.

  A brutal killer had tracked Dustee down, and the twins could have died. Both of them. It was by God’s grace, not Taylor’s good sense, that they lived to see another day. She had to work harder. Do better. Put her focus where it needed to be. Not on herself or her life. Not on what she wanted, but on her witnesses. Only on her witnesses.

  “Taylor! Good. I’m glad I found you.” Alison, a perky blonde and their section’s administrative assistant, charged up to Taylor’s cubicle not long after Alison arrived for her early morning shift. “There’s an FBI agent in reception to see you.”

  “Seriously?” Taylor wasn’t expecting any visitors, much less someone from the FBI, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with one of their agents. “I’m working on Dustee and Dianne’s relocation paperwork. I really don’t have time for a visitor.”

  “He says it’s urgent, and he’s not leaving until you talk to him.”

  “But I—”

  “You have to go out there.” Alison, a usually sweet and easygoing woman, narrowed her eyes. “He planted himself in a chair, and he means business. He’s not leaving.”

  Taylor sighed. “Did he say what this is about?”

  Alison shook her head. “But he’s not leaving until he talks to you. I know that much.”

  “Fine.” Taylor resisted sighing again. “I’ll give him five minutes. What’s his name?”

  “Sean Nichols.”

  Taylor’s jaw dropped, and it took everything she was made of to recover. “Sean’s here?”

  Alison’s eyebrows rose. “You know him?”

  Taylor nodded, but know wasn’t the right word. Could she truly know someone she’d never met in person? She doubted it, but she did know quite a lot about him. His likes. His dislikes. His past. His fears. His hopes. They’d been online friends for months now, and it was such a relief to have a friend who understood what it was like to work a high-stress job, and eventually they’d poured out their struggles to each other. Since they lived on opposite sides of the country, the relationship seemed safe. It was easy to confide in him and nice to have a caring person share her burden. So yeah, maybe she did know him.

>   Regardless, she was about to meet him face-to-face.

  Sean. He was here. Really here.

  She started to speak but had to swallow hard as the words stuck in her throat. “Tell him I’ll be right out.”

  “Perfect.” Alison turned to march through the busy bullpen, her short skirt swishing. She always looked fresh and put-together, and today was no exception. Something Taylor might have managed herself, if she’d put on makeup and done something with her hair after her bath and hadn’t spent her night refereeing the twins’ argument.

  She ran her fingers through the tangled mop to settle a few wayward strands into place and strode across the room. Feeling the bulky bomber jacket, she whisked it off and hung it over her arm. If only she had time to do something more with her appearance before meeting him for the first time. But why?

  She wasn’t interested in a romantic relationship any more than he was. Which was why the online friendship was ideal for both of them. Caring at a distance—removed. It felt less real than a relationship where you sat across a table to share a meal. Or went for a walk. Or even simply hung out. Less permanent and less able to wind up hurting either of them.

  Excited and terrified at the same time, she paused near the narrow window next to the door. The man she’d been friends with for six months sat tall in a plush chair, his feet firmly planted on the carpet. He wore dark jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a navy corduroy jacket, but oh, he wore it all so well. His long legs were coiled, and a sense of power and strength emanated from his body. His hair was brown, cut short on the sides, a bit longer on top with a slight curl. But it was his eyes . . . man, those eyes.

  They held Taylor in place. Brown. Nearly black. Piercing and yet gentle at the same time. How could that combination even exist? It wasn’t possible, was it?

  Her love of photography made her fingers itch to take out her phone and snap a picture, but a good shot required the flash, and the glass would reflect the light. Not to mention that he would see her do it.

  He shifted his focus and looked her squarely in the eye. Blood rushed to her head. She should look away, but she couldn’t. She could easily imagine those eyes fixed on her and only her for the rest of her life.

  Her breath caught in her chest. Seriously, did someone suck all the oxygen from the space?

  “Is everything okay, Taylor?” Chief Inman asked from behind her, but she still couldn’t look away from Sean.

  Okay? No, it wasn’t okay. Her heart was doing backflips in her chest, for goodness’ sake. Right here in her office. Her workplace.

  “Sure, fine,” she finally got out, and heard Inman walk away.

  She rested her hand on the doorknob, started to turn it, but stopped. The moment she stepped through that door and talked to Sean, things would change between them. Change drastically, and she doubted they would ever be the same again.

  CHAPTER 5

  SEAN SAT FORWARD. The woman watching him had to be Taylor. After all, if he were in her shoes, he’d be there with his face plastered against the window too. She opened the door and put a hand on the jamb, pausing as if uncertain how to proceed. What her problem was, he had no idea—coming closer to him was the only course of action he could prescribe. Real close, giving him a better look at her eyes. At her face. At her.

  She started his way, a graceful glide over the carpet. He pegged her at five-foot-nine, and her strawberry-blond hair was straight but flipped up at her shoulders. She wore a form-fitting pink top over dark jeans. The bomber jacket slung over her arm did nothing to hide her curvy figure. She stepped up to him, her gaze assessing him with a burning intensity. Her almond-shaped eyes were brown and bottomless, making his heart pound.

  “Sean?” she asked, and he couldn’t find anything coherent to say in response.

  He never imagined the woman he’d been chatting and emailing with could be this attractive, this captivating. He’d only known that she was special and a good friend, someone who supported him when he was down. Who helped him work through issues in both his private and work lives. Who shared his joy when life went right. But man, seeing her was a kick to the gut. She had an innocence to her, mixed with a world-weary look that he found incredibly sexy, and he didn’t want to look away.

  “Something wrong?” Her mesmerizing eyes narrowed in confusion.

  “Wrong?” he repeated.

  “You’re staring. I got called out last night and haven’t had a chance to freshen up. I apologize if I look like Frankenstein.” She chuckled, but the joke fell flat.

  If this was how she looked after an all-nighter, if he saw her again when she was fresh and rested, he’d be a goner for sure.

  She raised her eyebrows pointedly. “Did you want something, or did you drive all this way just to look at me?”

  The receptionist snickered.

  That brought him to his senses, and he snapped out of his trance to get to his feet. “Sorry. Been driving for hours and up all night. Guess I zoned out.”

  Right. Zoned out. So why did his vision seem extra crisp as he took in additional details like her full lips and cute nose?

  Shake it off, man. This is ridiculous.

  He smiled to ease her concern, maybe to break the hold she had over him, and held out his hand. “It’s good to finally meet in person.”

  She clasped his hand. The warm connection to the woman who’d been a big part of his life for the last six months made him want to continue holding her hand, though she was already pulling it free.

  “What brings you here?” She didn’t sound happy about the visit.

  He hadn’t known what to expect, but he didn’t think she’d be upset that he’d shown up. “I need to talk to you about one of your witnesses.”

  “Go ahead,” she said.

  What? They were such good friends online, and she wasn’t even going to invite him in? “Not here. In private.”

  “I’m kind of up to my neck in alligators right now and don’t have much time.”

  Something in her voice told him she’d been pushed hard to the breaking point and was barely holding it together. Something he could help her work through if she’d only contacted him. But for once she didn’t. Why, he didn’t know. But whatever she was fighting could be the reason she seemed distant, and her mood had nothing to do with him.

  He could hope anyway. “Trust me. You’ll want to hear this.”

  “Follow me.” She went to the door and swiped her ID card through a wall-mounted reader. The door popped open with a solid click, and she led him toward a small conference room at a corner with glass walls on three sides. He had to force himself to look away from the sway of her hips, and he lectured himself all the way down the hall to keep their conversation all business.

  She sat and pointed to a nearby chair, but he was too unsettled to sit close to her. He propped his shoulder against the wall and waited for her to say something to ease the tension quickly filling the room.

  She dropped her jacket on the chair next to her and crossed her legs. “This is really surreal, isn’t it? Meeting like this.”

  He nodded, trying his best not to stare at her long legs. “To be fair, I’ve had a few hours to think about it and just sprung it on you. I was in Seattle for a training and drove down.”

  “You could have texted or emailed.”

  Okay, maybe she was mad about that. “What I’ve come to discuss is too sensitive for a text or email. I didn’t want to let you know I was on the way and leave you to worry for hours about the reason for my visit.”

  “That was kind of you.” She smiled. Her eyes lit from inside, and her button nose crinkled to give him the barest of hints at the mischievous part of her personality he’d come to know. She rested her hands on her knee, looking more relaxed now.

  “You mentioned you were having a bad day. Can I help?” It felt odd to ask this question in person, and yet it felt natural too, and he was glad to be here for her.

  “It’s a problem with a witness. I’m working through it.
” That was it. Her whole explanation.

  Odd. She was always straightforward and willing to discuss her issues online. Maybe she was more uncomfortable with him than he thought. Or were they only online friends and it didn’t carry over to the physical world? It was one thing to reveal only what you wanted to online, but something else to actually know someone in person.

  “So who do you want to talk about?” she asked.

  Right. Move on. Away from the personal. Keep on task. Exactly what he needed. “Dustee Carr.”

  “Dustee?” Taylor’s foot dropped to the floor, and she sat forward. “What did she do now?”

  Interesting. “Nothing, as far as I know.”

  She arched a brow. “Then why are you here?”

  He moved away from the wall and planted his palms on the tabletop to convey the seriousness of his visit. “Before I tell you, you have to know this is on a need-to-know basis. No one besides you needs to know right now. Not even your chief. Got it?”

  She nodded, but the tightening of her hand suggested he was scaring her when he never wanted to do that.

  “The WITSEC database has been hacked,” he began, deciding to come right out with it. “And the hacker is selling witness details on the dark web.”

  “Hacked? But how? Who?” She shot to her feet, her gaze searching the room as if she’d find the answers there.

  He pushed off the table. “We don’t know yet. That’s why I’m here. This breach took some insane hacking skills, and the hacker had to have help from someone on the inside or by someone connected to WITSEC. That means I’m looking at everyone associated with the program with those abilities. Dustee is the only witness who could pull this off, so I’m starting with her.”

  He had to give Taylor credit. She didn’t so much as blink at the suggestion. “You think she did this?”

  He didn’t . . . yet. “Isn’t she banned from computer use?”

  “Yes, but I found out last night that she’s been using library computers and going online.”