Secret Obsession (Carder Texas Connections #6)(25)

“What’s going on, Noah?”

“Do you see that symbol on top of the building? The infinity? That’s Archimedes’s symbol. If he’s targeted my company, I don’t want him to target...” Noah couldn’t finish the sentence.

“The serial killer?” His father gasped. “What—? Never mind. I think I know. I’ll make sure the family is safe.”

The bedroom door cracked open. Lyssa walked out, her pale face showing her devastation. She’d obviously heard. She strode to him and clutched his arm. Her wide eyes stared at the screen.

“Don’t take any chances, Dad. Don’t search the internet. Don’t even get online. Don’t go anywhere you can be tracked. Drive, don’t fly. This guy is smart. He did this to make a point. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to any of you because of me.”

“Noah.” His father’s voice was quiet. “Come home.”

“I can’t,” Noah said, hating the thickness in his voice. “He’s probably watching. Just make sure everyone’s safe. Especially Emily.

“And tell Mitch...tell Mitch I’m sorry.”

What else could he say?

Lyssa leaned into him, slipping her fingers through his free hand, squeezing tight. He didn’t try to stop himself. He pulled her close against him; she was one of the few people who understood what he felt.

He could handle the danger to himself. He couldn’t handle his family being a target.

“I have to go, Dad.”

“Noah...” His father paused. “You catch this bastard, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Noah ended the call and continued watching the screen. “That son of a bitch.”

Lyssa gripped his hand tighter. “God, I’m sorry. This is my—”

“Don’t go there, Lyssa. I know exactly who’s to blame.” His gaze snapped to Zane and then to Rafe. “Check every flight from Chicago to San Jose Airport. Get me a lead. If he’s ramped up his game then so do we.”

Noah tugged Lyssa to the table that served as their war room and sat her down. “Let’s go over every detail one more time. In your first interviews about Archimedes you described him. You said he was a man, not too old, a little under six feet? Right?”

“I never saw his face. He didn’t move like he’d been trained. Not like you or Jack.” She gripped Noah’s fingers. “I still don’t understand how he got the drop on Jack. He wasn’t that strong or fast. He couldn’t catch me when I ran.”

“He doesn’t use his body, he uses his mind. That’s how we have to catch him. He leaves a calling card. He’s an arrogant SOB.”

Noah opened a couple of files. “Not one of his victims was bruised or battered. They weren’t killed with his bare hands.”

He leaned back in the chair. “We need to set a trap. On our terms.”

“But how?” Lyssa tucked her knee under her. “At my apartment?”

“He knows me,” Noah mused. “He’s trying to scare me off. Once my family is safe, we take this fight to Denver. On my home turf. He wants a fight, he’s getting one.”

*

LYSSA PRESSED THE door closed on her small bedroom. The lock clicked shut, muffling the continued tapping of computer keys. She didn’t turn on the overhead light in the dimming room but sagged against the wood. Her head ached, her eyes burned with fatigue from staring at papers and a computer screen all day.

They’d found nothing. For hours she’d worked beside Rafe, Zane and Noah as they’d analyzed file after file, data stream after data stream.

In the midst of word that CTC had people on the ground in Silicon Valley, that Noah’s COO suffered from lung damage but would probably recover, Noah had used a few screwdrivers and what looked like parts from an electronics store to jury-rig a supercharged communications jammer.

Seriously, the man’s capability scared her. All of them did.

The team had accessed street cameras in front of her Chicago apartment and work building, and in front of Noah’s business. They ran images through a facial-recognition software program.

No results.

Zane had done some sort of voodoo and now a computer program weeded through passenger lists from flights to Chicago and those between the city and San Jose. The only person they’d recognized so far was Reid on his flight from D.C.

She hadn’t felt quite so useless in a long time. Not since she’d walked into a gun range after the first attack to learn how to take care of herself. She could do very little except wade through that horrifying series of files and look over lists of names and faces.

Not that it had helped.

She’d only known three victims: Jack, Chastity and Reid.

At least Reid was holding his own. So far.

Her shoulders rounded in weariness, Lyssa crossed the room and turned on a small bedside lamp. Her duffel remained on her bed, and she dug into the bottom. She pulled out two books, journals she’d started after going stir-crazy her first month in protective custody.

She might not be able to manipulate ones and zeros like Zane and Noah, but she’d been face to stocking mask with Archimedes. Had she forgotten some small detail, something from the night Archimedes had killed Jack?

Or maybe the second attack.

The one that had terrified her even more than witnessing Jack’s death.