Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(38)

Denver stopped typing and looked up. “But that would mean—”

“Yeah. It would be way too coincidental that we were all at the boys home at the same time being tested by the same woman.” Ryker shoved down unease until a ball formed in his gut. His skin prickled. “No way could she have engineered our lives that way.”

Heath pushed back in his chair. “You’re right, so stop thinking such a bizarre scenario. That Greg kid got to you, buddy. There’s no big conspiracy that put us in that shithole, and that Madison woman was just studying us as part of a governmental study, like she said. How orphans learn or something like that.”

It was totally farfetched to consider any other explanation. “Why give us a fake name, not her real one?” Ryker asked.

“Maybe the kid gave us a fake name and her name really was Sylvia, like she told us,” Heath said.

That was the most likely scenario. “The kid is wicked smart to have hacked us so well, but genius and madness, you know?” Ryker murmured. He settled back and tried to figure out the problem.

Heath glanced at his watch. “Did you see Special Agent Jackson on the news yesterday? She’s becoming the face of the Copper Killer investigation, and damn if her hair isn’t starting to look red.”

“So we stick close to her,” Denver said. “Right?”

“Exactly,” Heath said, satisfaction tilting his mouth.

“Great. Us tailing the FBI. What could go wrong?” Ryker sighed.

“I’m with you there. I’ve tracked down Jackson, and she’s still in Utah. I’m catching a flight in an hour to, well, bug her,” Heath said. “She has to know more than she’s told us.”

Denver nodded.

“Okay.” Ryker nodded too. “Denver, you keep working on Greg and finding Isobel Madison, and for the moment, I want to treat Zara’s issue like a case.” He needed to banish emotion until he figured out what was going on. Something had been nagging at his subconscious, so he tuned in. A buzzing sound. Barely discernible…but with a definite pattern.

He motioned to Heath, who instantly stilled.

Denver paused in typing, and Ryker shook his head, pointing at the keyboard. Denver nodded and continued typing, his gaze now wandering the room.

“We need to get furniture for the apartments,” Heath said, his head slowly turning as he scanned the room.

Ryker nodded and stood, trying to follow the buzz, anger swelling in him. “Why doesn’t Denver just do it? He did an okay job with the offices.”

Denver snorted, his voice calm but his eyes sizzling. “You two morons can choose your own furniture. I’ve done my charitable deed for the year.”

Ryker frowned and moved silently to the bookshelf near the window. Leaning around a potted plant, he saw the bug. It was rough and cheap, but it’d get the job done. His pulse spiked, and he had to take several deep breaths to keep from losing his mind. Son of a f*cking bitch. They’d been bugged.

Nobody bugged them. They had an edge because of their abilities, and if somebody else was smart and smooth enough to bug them, then they lost that damn edge. Oh, hell no.

He walked toward the office’s entrance, his hands clenching. “I’m starving, but I don’t feel like cooking.” Even though his fridge was fully stocked.

“Me either,” Denver said, pushing away from the computer, his eyes glinting with a harsh light even as his voice remained cheerful.

Heath cleared his throat. “There’s a place just down the road. Kind of a hole-in-the-wall, but it looks like they serve breakfast. Let’s get a late one, and then I can return to this Internet search.” He jerked his head toward the other offices, his jaw clenching hard enough to look painful. “Sound good?”

“Yeah. I just need to grab something from my office,” Ryker said, heading out and walking along the worn wooden floor. It had to be the kid, right? Damn, he was good. A quick search of Ryker’s office found a similar bug, and as he exited, he caught Heath’s nod upon leaving his own. Shit. Were the apartments bugged also?

There was only one way to find out.





Chapter





13




The SUV handled so much better than Zara’s crappy car as the rain-and-snow mix slashed down from an angry sky. She reached over and flipped on the heated seats, which warmed instantly. Brock had loaned her the car to go and get lunch, but first, she had an old friend to confront. How could Julie lie to her in such a manner? Zara had triple-checked the receipts provided by Jay, and they looked authentic. If he’d paid off all of Julie’s bills, then what was she using the three thousand dollars a month for? Could it really be for drugs?

Zara rubbed her chest, which suddenly felt hollow.

She drove by where her car had died the day before and then pressed her foot to the gas pedal. She’d told Brock that she needed to run a couple of errands, but even so, she had to hurry so she’d have time to get sandwiches.

She pulled into the back lot of the almost-deserted motel and noted Julie’s car, partially hidden behind a huge Dumpster. Good. Her friend was there.

The wind smashed against Zara’s jean-clad legs as she jumped from the luxury vehicle and hurried across muddy potholes to trace her steps from last time. The wind pummeled her hair, and she ducked her head to protect her face even as a tide of hot anger swelled in her. Had she been made a fool of? When she emerged at the front of the motel, she hustled toward Julie’s room and knocked sharply on the door. Then she waited.