The Bulletproof Boy Read online

Page 16


  “Poisoned?” I ask him with concern. “No one told me about that. It wasn’t in your files...”

  “Roddy may have doctored my files a little to try to conceal the truth from you,” he explains.

  I bite my lip at this. “Do you mean Detective Rodriguez? He knew that you were alive?” When Cole nods, I lean back in my chair and let gust of air pass slowly through my teeth. “He was in on this?”

  “He kind of orchestrated the whole thing,” I say with a smile. “He’s a really good friend.”

  “That motherfucking bastard. He misled me so much—when I told him I thought you were alive he had this fake conversation with me about spirituality.” Clenching my coffee cup tightly, I take a large swig of the brew. “I’m going to punch him in the face.”

  “You met him a few times, years ago, but I don’t think you’d remember. My roommate from juvie?”

  My jaw falls open. “Oh my god. Rodriguez is Little Ricky?”

  “Yes. He grew up a lot, didn’t he?”

  “Cole! How did I not recognize him? He was at our fucking wedding!”

  He laughs softly. “Roddy has changed a lot over the years. After some guy named Ricky Rodriguez died in a tragic murder-suicide, he didn’t want to go by Ricky anymore. So we used his middle name until some dude named Carlos Rodriguez smashed his car into a tree while on drugs in Florida, and flattened half of his head. He literally has half a head. Roddy got teased about that for a while, so he ended up just shortening it to Roddy. Most of his friends called him that already.”

  Luciana yawns. “While your detective sounds so very fascinating, I’d like to get back to the murders and explosions, okay? At least five people were killed in those explosions, and over two dozen more are in hospitals. Some of the victims were just pedestrians nearby.”

  “Dammit,” Cole says softly. “You didn’t say that there were casualties. Miranda is probably dealing with a PR shitstorm and legal nightmare. I feel so bad for not being there to help out.”

  “You need me to be bait,” I say suddenly, slamming down my 90% empty coffee mug. “It has to be about me, right? If they think Cole is dead… then why keep doing this? Why else would Brittany try to impersonate Annabelle after her death, and show up at Cole’s funeral? That bitch claimed to be his girlfriend and requested that I give her his semen sample.”

  “What?” Cole says, making a face of disgust straight out of a horror movie. “Please tell me you didn’t!”

  “Of course not!”

  “Hmmm,” Luciana mumbles. “Maybe she just wanted to destroy it so you’d be like, really and truly dead—to kill out any potential for you to have an heir to your throne. She was destroying your whole bloodline, because only a Hunter can rule Winterfell and hold the north. I mean, Snowfire Industries Ltd..”

  “What?” Cole says in confusion.

  “Babe,” I say teasingly. “Next time someone puts a gun to your head, if you really want to live, offer them the Game of Thrones Blu-ray discs, okay?”

  “I don’t have any.”

  “Well, we definitely have to go back to society now.”

  Luciana frowns. “Since you’re not actually dead, why don’t we just give her the semen and see if it will calm her down. You can make more, right?” She turns to me. “He can make more, right?”

  I shrug. I honestly don’t know.

  Luciana finishes up her tea and hands the empty container to Cole. “Here’s a cup. Give us your sperm and we’ll go save the world.”

  I can’t help grinning a little, but then I begin thinking. Isn’t the semen he made at age 20 better than the semen he is currently making at age 29? It doesn’t work that way for guys, does it? There is probably only a slight difference in quality, since they have constantly generating sperm factories. I wonder if I should get my eggs frozen?

  Cole coughs awkwardly and pushes away the cup. “I don’t know about that, but Brittany was definitely the person who poisoned me,” he says with a frown. Reaching up, he runs a hand through his hair, as he often does when upset. “There’s this gym and relaxation spa at Annabelle’s clinic—I designed it for her. There’s a sauna, a steam room, a hot tub, massage rooms—I usually use the gym and steam room after my sessions, to wait out the traffic before heading home. I used the steam room the night before I got sick. I could have inhaled the cadmium there.”

  “You inhaled cadmium?” I ask him softly. “Is that why you’ve been coughing so much?”

  “Yes, but they got it all out of my system. I’m going to be fine.”

  “That’s an extremely clever poisoning,” Luciana says with worry. “The attacker knew that was a chemical Cole could have been exposed to at his construction sites, so the foul play could have gone undetected. But then why ruin all that careful planning with a very public sniper shooting?”

  “Unless there are multiple assassins,” I suggest. “Arguing about their methods. Pulling in different directions. Didn’t Professor Brown have another kid—a son?”

  “Or it could be Benjamin,” Cole says quietly.

  Just hearing his name said out loud makes me visibly flinch. It’s been like that for years. His name in a book, on a street sign, in a movie, on the news…

  “Who’s that?” Luciana asks.

  “A child molester,” Cole begins. “Scar, do you mind if I…?”

  “Not now, please. Lucy, you said you brought a helicopter? Can you take us back to civilization?”

  “Sure!” she says, standing up and stretching. “Let’s get going. It’s been a while since I’ve done any field work myself, Shields. Thanks for getting me out of the office.”

  “Wait,” Cole says. “Wait. I don’t agree with this. It’s not worth the risk. Scarlett, you can’t use yourself as bait for these crazy murderers. Just trust that Rodriguez will take care of it, and Agent Lopez, here. We don’t have to do anything. We can just stay here, and be safe. Luciana found you because of the special phone she gave you, but no one else will have any idea where we are. No one else.”

  “I’ve spent so much of my life running and hiding,” I tell him. “It’s time to fight.” I reach out to touch his hand. “Let’s fight against this, together.”

  “No,” he says firmly. “I can’t let you put yourself in harm’s way again. You’ve been through too much.”

  “This is my job, Cole. I feel that it’s important to do this.”

  “No. Scarlett—you’re not well. You can’t…” He pauses, breathing heavily. “Luciana, please—she’s too close to this. If you care about her at all, you won’t let her leave this desert. This world is filled with good hackers who can help out without being in danger. I guarantee that if Scarlett goes with you, she’s going to get hurt.”

  “You’re asking your wife to quit her job?” Luciana says slowly, with narrowed eyes. “Because it’s too dangerous? That’s kind of controlling, buddy. It’s her choice to make.”

  “Look, you don’t know the whole story,” Cole says. “Luciana, can we have a talk in private about Scarlett’s mental health? I think there are certain issues you need to be made aware…”

  “What the fuck, Cole!” I say crossly, feeling anger mounting in my chest. “Are you trying to sabotage my life? Because contrary to what you think, I have been perfectly fine without you for years! I love working for Lucy. Okay, so it would be a little easier if she let me use a fucking computer. But I do fine.”

  “Then go back to that job, Scar. Work behind a desk, in a secure building, under your false identity. But do not go back to L.A., and get involved in this investigation as Scarlett Hunter. Not right now. Your husband was just killed—” he points to the scar on his cheekbone, “—and his attackers are seriously gunning for you. I happened to turn to the side before this happened, or it would have gone right through my head. I just want you to be okay. Please. We’ve been apart for so long, and I’m not willing to let you go. Just stay with me until Rodriguez has a suspect in custody.”

  Feeling deeply uncomfortable an
d confused about this whole thing, I rub my eyes. I look to Luciana for help, and she shrugs.

  “This is a domestic dispute, hun. I never thought you were the kind of girl to let a man tell you not to do something. But he does have a point. I’d rather you sit this one out, and take a long vacation, than get hurt. I don’t want to lose one of my best agents. But even if you quit—I’d prefer for you to be alive and happy somewhere in the mountains, with your incredibly hot dead husband, than lying in a pool of blood in L.A..”

  I sigh at this, turning to look at Cole.

  I wish I were not the type of girl who obsessively needed to find answers. To finish what she started. And as much as I have run away, I have also stayed. I wish I were not the type of girl who was drawn to danger. I wish I did not feel most alive when I was a whisper away from death.

  I know that Cole’s right. I know it in my heart. I’m going to get hurt.

  But I couldn’t live with myself if I just sat back and did nothing while innocent people are getting hurt. Everyone sat back and did nothing when I was younger, and I was getting hurt. I was utterly powerless then. Now I’m capable of actually doing something to help—why would I choose to save my own skin instead of making a difference?

  Clearing my throat, I smile at Cole. “We don’t have Game of Thrones on Blu-ray. And I don’t have internet access here to illegally download or stream it.”

  “That’s a huge deciding factor,” Luciana adds.

  “Scar…” Cole says softly, reaching out to grasp my hands pleadingly. “Please don’t go.”

  “I have to. Will you come with me? You don’t have to. I know that you’ve been badly injured, and you’re tired. I totally understand if you want to stay here and rest up. I’ll come back for you.”

  He laughs softly, pulling me close and kissing the tip of my nose. “There’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight, ever again. Besides, I do want to see Anna’s killer go down. I know my company better than anyone, and there’s a lot I can do to help out.”

  “Okay!” Luciana says, clapping her hands together. “Looks like you know some real men after all, Shields. Let’s go, chop-chop! You guys get your stuff, and I’ll be waiting in the chopper. See what I did there?”

  “Mmmm,” Cole says. “It was almost funny.”

  “I have some spare guns waiting in the helicopter,” Luciana says. “I would offer you guys some protection, but I think what you really need is sunscreen.”

  “Okay. That was a sick burn,” Cole says. “Get it? Sick burn?”

  “Shut the hell up, both of you,” I say with a groan.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My stomach is in knots.

  We’re on a small plane now, after transferring over from the helicopter. I can see the desert landscape disappearing as it is replaced with coastal greenery and cities. Scarlett seems happy, or at least focused. She has a computer in her hands, so she is in her element, and watching her is the only thing that is making this situation tolerable for me. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her like this, and it’s still magical. Perhaps I should find it more magical now that she has hacked into some of the toughest security systems across the planet—but whether she’s hacking my bank account to reverse a $10 overdraft charge, or saving the world, I find myself equally mesmerized.

  Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that she had to leave me. The experiences she had at her new job obviously helped her grow as a person and as a professional, and I couldn’t offer that much of a challenge to her. I feel jealous of Luciana, as I miss working with Scar every day, but I am happy that she has succeeded in such a coveted position, where her work is important and deeply valued.

  I just don’t know how to tell her that I’m not strong enough to do this. I have a very bad feeling in my gut. But I promised Snow that I would try and help her heal. If leaving the NovaTank to return to the city that tried to kill me is what she needs, then that’s what I’m going to do. She is the woman I love, and she has suffered from a great deal of pain, some of which I contributed to inflicting upon her, unknowingly.

  I’m going to do whatever I can to make this right.

  Scar has had Internet access for about forty-five minutes, and I’m sure she already knows more than the detective, and anyone else working on this case. She hacked into the police files first, upset that Roddy gave her incomplete information before. She has taken everything into her own hands, as she often does.

  “It looks like Levi called the police and gave a statement of a few people and companies he’s having difficulty with. Ugh, this is a long list. Do you recognize anyone, Cole?”

  “A couple of them. Do you want me to make some notes on what I can remember off the top of my head?”

  “Yes, please,” she says, handing me her new phone while she continues to search for information on the computer. “Something I didn’t do before is access the traffic cams around the area where you were shot, because I didn’t know what to look for. But I could access the traffic cams around the two worksites with the explosions, maybe shortly before the detonations happened. I’ll cross-reference them with each other, and then the area around the hospital, just before you were shot. It looks like the bombs were homemade, if I’m reading the police reports right.”

  She looks over at me and smiles sadly. “They did very little damage to your buildings. Your structures are so tough and well-secured that they could probably only set the bombs up to harm the construction workers in the unfinished buildings. They aren’t fitted with security cameras yet, obviously. Maybe I can look up the style of bomb used and see if there’s any history of someone using that same technique elsewhere. Or any specific elements required to make the bombs that may have been purchased somewhere.”

  “You should make Roddy do that,” I suggest to her. “Call him up and ask him to help out. You’ll cover more ground, faster, if you’re working together.”

  “I will,” she says absentmindedly, while she continues looking up information furiously, and pushing her black glasses up higher on her nose. (We had to fly the helicopter back to the house on Red Earth Lane so that she could grab her purse containing her glasses, gun, and ID, and retrieve her laptop from the Bugatti. We also tucked the car safely away in the garage to avoid possible detection). When Scarlett is doing research, she sometimes gets so completely in the zone that she blocks out all her surroundings. I should call Roddy to help her out.

  “Okay, guys,” Luciana says, walking into the plane. “I ordered some things to help keep you incognito. Wigs, contact lenses, some facial hair, prosthetics, and a fake ID for Cole. Also, some makeup to cover up those sunburns for Scarlett, and some Aloe Vera cooling lotion.”

  “Thanks,” Scarlett says, itching miserably.

  “I also got us set up with a great safe house location. We obviously can’t go to Cole’s house.”

  “We have other places we could stay,” Scarlett tells her. “We could crash with Miranda?”

  “It’s better not to involve others and possibly make them unsafe. They all have known connections to you two, especially Cole. The safe house is best,” Luciana says. “It’s not as nice as your tank, but few things on this planet are.”

  “I have some more tanks,” I tell her. “In the warehouse. There are a few models we built to test certain features. No one is currently using them.”

  “Cole, the tanks might be sturdy and safe, and bulletproof, but they just aren’t practical for the city. Where would we even park them?”

  “Okay, what’s this safe house like, Agent Lopez?”

  “It’s an underground bomb shelter below a stylish home. Since there have been explosions, and you two seemed so nervous about coming back here, I really wanted to get you something solid. You can use either the house itself, which has four bedrooms, or the bunker below. It’s definitely secure. Cole, it’s probably recommended that you remain there indefinitely for now, to avoid being seen.”

  “Can Scarlett stay with me? Can she work from ther
e?

  “Of course.”

  “Guys, I found some really messed up stuff about the Brown family,” Scarlett says, pushing her glasses up higher again. “

  “She works so fast, we might have this case figured out before we even arrive at the safe house,” I tell Luciana.

  The woman nods. “I’ve never seen her with a computer before. Her fingers are moving so quickly, I keep wondering if they might set the damn thing on fire.”

  “My hands are hurting a lot, thanks for asking,” Scarlett admits with frustration. “I haven’t done this in a while. I’m out of practice.”

  Turning to Luciana, I give her the sternest look I can muster. “No matter what happens from now on, Scarlett should never be banned from using computers again.”

  “I agree,” Luciana says kindly.

  Thinking about Snow’s list, I begin to feel a tiny bit of hope that we are moving in the right direction. If only the next few days can progress smoothly, and we can all avoid getting shot or blown up, things will definitely be looking up. I suddenly remember that I am holding Scarlett’s phone, and I unlock it to dial the detective.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Oh, no,” I say when I see the house, shielding my face from the eyesore. “Oh, no, no, no, no. Who would build such a disgusting monstrosity?!”

  “You don’t like it?” Luciana asks with hurt as she drives into the parking lot.

  “It’s an architectural nightmare! Look at all those ugly, useless windows. Look at that hideous roof. And what is up with that portico? If all the houses in this neighborhood are pimples on the face of the earth, this one is a giant, honking tumor. I can’t look at it. Scarlett, save me.” I try to bury my face in her shoulder, but she pushes my head away.

  “Stop it, Cole. I’m working,” she says softly. “Are you still so structurally sensitive? You need to get over that. Elitist. I just found some extremely large deposits into Jeremy Brown’s bank account. That’s Brittany’s brother. I’m trying to trace them. I also found out that Zack served in Afghanistan around the same time as Jeremy Brown. I wonder if Zack could know of him? I should ask.”