with it. But as he and Storm spent more time together, he found he really liked her. Dreams of a possible future together felt real, not like a fantasy. Their compatibility extended past the physical into likes and dislikes.
They both preferred action to sitting around with their thumbs up their asses.
“Damn Jurek,” he seethed. In addition to Rafe’s own home security, which was top of the line thanks to J.D., Jurek had stationed men outside in pairs on a twenty-four/seven rotating shift.
The ringing of his cell phone jarred him from the hell his life had become. Despite the late hour, Rafe welcomed the intrusion. “Yeah?”
J.D. answered. “Sorry Rafe, but I thought you’d want a heads up on the latest. You weren’t sleeping, were you?” The sly innuendo didn’t go unnoticed. J.D. had taken every opportunity to rag him about Storm since she’d been here.
“Dickhead. Storm is in her own room, probably stewing about her annoying family.”
“Want me to come over and cheer her up?”
“Why did you call?”
J.D. chuckled. “Right. We finally tracked down Lewis Greene, your shooter from the park. Problem is, before we could bag him, he disappeared. He must have just barely gotten wind of our arrival before ditching because his clothes and his guns were still there. We rushed ballistics on the .38 at the scene. It matched the one he used to shoot at you. He’s definitely our man.” J.D. gave a frustrated sigh. “We’ve spread his picture around to several of our contacts on the streets, in addition to the police. If he shows his face anywhere, we’ll find him.”
Rafe had been hoping for better news than this. “Still no word on how they found out about my date with Storm?”
“No, but I did manage to learn how the Buchanans knew about the Locklen case. It was ingenious, really.”
Rafe heard J.D.’s grim admiration and had to wonder about Buchanan Investigations. J.D. was the best of the best in the computer world. Not only was he a top-rate hacker, but his unique ability with electronics made him a definite force to be reckoned with.
“Somebody siphoned information through my secure server,” J.D. continued. “I don’t know how he decrypted my codes, but the whole thing was brilliantly executed. He didn’t access it from within the building, and the loops he wove to cover his tracks are damn good.
“What’s weird is that I plugged the hole as soon as I discovered it, right after your mishap at the Locklen Estate. Your interrupted meet with Floyd by the shipyard had nothing to do with Buchanan’s hacker. Word from Buchanan’s techo-genius is that his side is totally clean. Someone else had to have passed that information.”
“Shit,” Rafe cursed. “So Glass wasn’t the only leak in our organization. We might have another rogue agent.”
Last year, Rafe had worked hard to uncover a traitor in their midst. Unfortunately, Rafe had caught him after he’d sold valuable information to Raymond Guest, a suspected white slaver and drug runner. In the course of his investigation, Rafe had been forced to kill Richard Glass. A loss, and another betrayal. It was like a repeat of what had happened in the Atlanta PD all over again.
“We checked into Richard Glass, Rafe. He’s a dead end. Literally. He can’t be your rogue unless you’re being haunted. Far as I know, none of our agents see dead people.” J.D. paused. “Not to change the subject, but on a serious note, how are things really going with Storm? You guys okay?”
Rafe quelled his urge to hang up the phone. J.D. couldn’t possibly know how tightly strung Rafe had been since he’d been sequestered in his own house with temptation made flesh. Storm Buchanan was torture on his control, no two ways about it.
“Things are fine. Storm’s been busy working out, and I’ve been trying to manage what we know about this case, which unfortunately isn’t much.”
“Hmm.”
Knowing he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help but ask,
They both preferred action to sitting around with their thumbs up their asses.
“Damn Jurek,” he seethed. In addition to Rafe’s own home security, which was top of the line thanks to J.D., Jurek had stationed men outside in pairs on a twenty-four/seven rotating shift.
The ringing of his cell phone jarred him from the hell his life had become. Despite the late hour, Rafe welcomed the intrusion. “Yeah?”
J.D. answered. “Sorry Rafe, but I thought you’d want a heads up on the latest. You weren’t sleeping, were you?” The sly innuendo didn’t go unnoticed. J.D. had taken every opportunity to rag him about Storm since she’d been here.
“Dickhead. Storm is in her own room, probably stewing about her annoying family.”
“Want me to come over and cheer her up?”
“Why did you call?”
J.D. chuckled. “Right. We finally tracked down Lewis Greene, your shooter from the park. Problem is, before we could bag him, he disappeared. He must have just barely gotten wind of our arrival before ditching because his clothes and his guns were still there. We rushed ballistics on the .38 at the scene. It matched the one he used to shoot at you. He’s definitely our man.” J.D. gave a frustrated sigh. “We’ve spread his picture around to several of our contacts on the streets, in addition to the police. If he shows his face anywhere, we’ll find him.”
Rafe had been hoping for better news than this. “Still no word on how they found out about my date with Storm?”
“No, but I did manage to learn how the Buchanans knew about the Locklen case. It was ingenious, really.”
Rafe heard J.D.’s grim admiration and had to wonder about Buchanan Investigations. J.D. was the best of the best in the computer world. Not only was he a top-rate hacker, but his unique ability with electronics made him a definite force to be reckoned with.
“Somebody siphoned information through my secure server,” J.D. continued. “I don’t know how he decrypted my codes, but the whole thing was brilliantly executed. He didn’t access it from within the building, and the loops he wove to cover his tracks are damn good.
“What’s weird is that I plugged the hole as soon as I discovered it, right after your mishap at the Locklen Estate. Your interrupted meet with Floyd by the shipyard had nothing to do with Buchanan’s hacker. Word from Buchanan’s techo-genius is that his side is totally clean. Someone else had to have passed that information.”
“Shit,” Rafe cursed. “So Glass wasn’t the only leak in our organization. We might have another rogue agent.”
Last year, Rafe had worked hard to uncover a traitor in their midst. Unfortunately, Rafe had caught him after he’d sold valuable information to Raymond Guest, a suspected white slaver and drug runner. In the course of his investigation, Rafe had been forced to kill Richard Glass. A loss, and another betrayal. It was like a repeat of what had happened in the Atlanta PD all over again.
“We checked into Richard Glass, Rafe. He’s a dead end. Literally. He can’t be your rogue unless you’re being haunted. Far as I know, none of our agents see dead people.” J.D. paused. “Not to change the subject, but on a serious note, how are things really going with Storm? You guys okay?”
Rafe quelled his urge to hang up the phone. J.D. couldn’t possibly know how tightly strung Rafe had been since he’d been sequestered in his own house with temptation made flesh. Storm Buchanan was torture on his control, no two ways about it.
“Things are fine. Storm’s been busy working out, and I’ve been trying to manage what we know about this case, which unfortunately isn’t much.”
“Hmm.”
Knowing he shouldn’t, he couldn’t help but ask,
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