Wired (Buchanan-Renard #13)(9)
“Beats me,” Jordan answered. “You put them to shame tonight,” she added, grinning.
Allison texted Dan as they made their way to the exit. She looked around for the mysterious stranger who had been watching from the back of the auditorium, but he had disappeared.
The two friends didn’t have much time to catch up while they waited on the steps outside, because Dan appeared almost immediately. He and Allison walked Jordan to her car and then backtracked toward their house. On their walk home she told Dan about her programming discussion with Jordan during the seminar.
“You do realize I’m an econ major, and everything you’ve just said sounds like gibberish to me.”
She laughed. “Sorry. I guess I was getting a little technical, wasn’t I?” After a minute she said, “I was showing off tonight. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not? There’s nothing wrong with letting people know how smart you are.”
She disagreed. “I don’t want to draw attention. It could get me into trouble.”
“What kind of trouble could you get into? It’s not like you broke the law or anything,” he said, and then teasing her with a raised eyebrow and an exaggerated look of suspicion, he added, “Or did you?”
“No, of course not,” she laughed, averting her eyes.
If he only knew.
FOUR
Over spring break Allison planned to get ahead of her classwork, but her aunt and uncle demanded that she take on another modeling assignment because the attorney’s bill had grown to staggering heights. She knew she could refuse. She was over eighteen, and they had no legal control over her, but saying no simply wasn’t worth the barrage of calls and constant harassment. She wouldn’t put it past them to follow her into class and make a scene to get what they wanted. It was always easier—and inevitable—to give in.
Keeping Will out of jail was becoming more and more difficult. He had been ordered by one judge to attend anger management classes. Allison hoped more than anything that these would help, but she had her doubts.
Fortunately Giovanni was ready to photograph the catalog for his new line and was overjoyed that Allison would be available. The photos were shot along the beautifully rugged coast of Maine, and for two weeks Allison posed, as a team of hairstylists, makeup artists, and dressers hovered around her, primping and preening. On the day she returned home to Boston, Jordan called.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” Jordan said.
Allison could hear the eagerness in her voice. “What’s going on?”
“How would you like to visit the FBI’s new office building with me this afternoon?”
Allison immediately declined. The last few weeks had been exhausting and she wanted a day to recuperate, but when Jordan mentioned they would be visiting the new cyber center, she reconsidered.
“Agent Jim Phillips is a friend of Noah’s and mine,” Jordan explained. “Noah’s worked with him in the past, and we’ve known him a long time. He’s head of the cyber task force in Boston. I hear the facility is state-of-the-art, and I’m dying to see it. He just called me and asked if I’d like to come and tour it today. He knew who you were and told me I could bring you along, too. What do you say?”
“How does he know about me?” Allison asked suspiciously.
“Noah, I’m guessing,” Jordan answered. “My poor husband has heard us talking codes and viruses and programs for hours on end. He probably mentioned you to Phillips. So, do you want to go or not?”
“Absolutely. I’m in.”
She hadn’t unpacked from her trip yet and went to her closet to find something to wear. She didn’t think her usual uniform, jeans and a T-shirt, would be appropriate, so she chose a skirt and a silk blouse with a pair of nude heels.
When Jordan came to pick her up, Allison’s two housemates were shooting hoops in the driveway. They stopped to watch her walk down the sidewalk and whistled in appreciation.
“Where you goin’, Al? Must be someplace special for you to put on a skirt in the middle of the afternoon,” Mark called out in a singsong tease.
She smiled and waved to them as she got in the car.
The ride took a long while. Jordan’s GPS led them onto three different highways before they exited into an old industrial area. Allison wasn’t even sure they were still in Boston. They turned a corner and ended up on a long, winding road that seemed to be heading to the middle of nowhere. There weren’t any houses or other commercial properties around, just thick trees on either side. The branches draped over them like an umbrella.
“Why would the bureau put an office all the way out here?” Allison asked.
Jordan was just as puzzled. “I don’t know. When I told Noah we were going there today, he warned me it was in a remote area. I wish he could have come with us, but he had to leave for Florida this morning.”
They pulled up to a gate in a tall chain-link fence, and the GPS announced that they had reached their destination. Beyond the fence was a modern three-story building, all tinted glass and steel. There weren’t any signs indicating it was an FBI office.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Allison asked. “It looks deserted.”
“This is the address Agent Phillips gave me,” Jordan said.