Next Exit, No Outlet Page 13

  “See?” Angela didn’t miss a beat. “There’s no way anyone can sneak up on you here.”

  “You’re right,” Stephanie agreed. Her gaze met Alina’s and Alina recognized the glint in her old friend’s eyes. “Why doesn’t she stay here with me?”

  Alina raised an eyebrow. “You’d have to share a room.”

  “That’s fine. Michael and Blake are doing it. The rooms are big enough.”

  “Wait a minute!” Angela protested. “I can’t stay here again. I just got back into my own house!”

  Everyone looked at her.

  “So?” Blake prompted. “It’s only for a few days at most and, as you just pointed out, you’ve stayed here before. It’s not like you’re not used to it.”

  Angela sputtered and Alina saw Damon’s shoulders shaking out of the corner of her eye.

  “That’s not the point! I don’t want to stay here again. I didn’t bring enough provisions!”

  There was a long silence as they all stared at her. She looked around the table. “What? I didn’t! I bought all the stuff for Stephanie, not me. I can’t stay here.”

  “What, exactly, are you talking about?” Alina finally asked as one of her eyelids began to twitch.

  “All those bags in the kitchen! It’s food and snacks for Steph and Blake,” Angela explained. “Lina, I love you, but your kitchen is severely lacking in anything that makes life worth living.”

  Alina sat back in her chair and looked at the ceiling, counting to ten.

  “She has beer now,” Damon said. Only the faintest tremor in his voice conveyed how much he was enjoying himself. “That’s progress.”

  Angela snorted. “Does she have bagels?”

  “No.”

  “Then it’s not enough progress.”

  “Well, you have two options,” Alina said, irritation pushing her amusement aside. “You can either stay here, or Michael can stay with you. Choose one.”

  She stood and picked up her empty plate, turning to go into the kitchen while Angela scowled.

  “Ang, just stay here,” Stephanie said. “It won’t be for long.”

  “You keep saying that. How do you know? If you don’t even know who’s trying to kill you, then we don’t know how long it will be!” Angela pointed out. “It could be weeks!”

  Stephanie shook her head.

  “It won’t be weeks. It will be a couple of days, at most, and then you’ll be back home with Anabelle.”

  Angela gasped.

  “That’s another thing!” she exclaimed. “I would have to go get my cat! This is ridiculous. I’m not upending everything all over again just because you guys think there might be a possibility that I’m being followed, which I’m not. It’s not fair to Annabelle. Cats don’t like being moved around.”

  “Then I’ll come to your house,” Michael said, resigned.

  Alina strode out of the kitchen and headed for the sliding doors.

  “Hey! Where are you going?” Angela demanded, swiveling in her chair. “We’re having a discussion here!”

  “No, you’re arguing. That’s not a discussion,” Damon said, pushing his chair back and following Alina.

  Angela’s mouth dropped open and she watched as the pair disappeared out the door into the night.

  “What just happened?” she demanded, spinning around again and looking at Stephanie. “Where did they go?”

  Stephanie rolled her eyes and reached for some more fried rice. “How should I know?”

  “They’re probably running away,” Blake muttered under his breath.

  Stephanie shot him a look filled with amused sympathy. “Welcome to Jersey.”

  “Is there anymore lo mein?” Angela asked, peering around the table.

  Michael handed her a carton and stood up.

  “I’ll go see what we’re going to do about my truck,” he said, turning toward the sliding doors.

  Angela watched him go and then looked at Stephanie.

  “Where is his truck?” she asked, forking shrimp lo mein onto her plate.

  “At the airport.”

  “Why?”

  Stephanie hesitated, then glanced at Blake. He offered no inspiration as he piled more rice and General Tso’s onto his plate.

  “He left the truck there when he realized he was being followed,” she said reluctantly.

  “What do you mean, ‘he was followed?’” she demanded. “By whom? What the hell is going on around here?!”

  Stephanie sighed.

  “It’s a long story. Now do you see why we’re so worried about you? Everyone is getting dragged into this mess, and Lina’s right. It’s only a matter of time before they come after you.”

  “I don’t understand. What does Michael have to do with you and the cartel?”

  Blake got up to go into the kitchen for another beer.

  “It’s complicated,” he said over his shoulder.

  Angela made a face at his back.

  “Why is everything always complicated anymore? This is all because of Lina’s job, isn’t it?”

  Stephanie stared at her like a deer in headlights. “What?”

  This time it was Angela’s turn to roll her eyes.

  “Oh come on, Steph. I’m not an idiot. Ever since she came back, everything’s been getting more and more ‘complicated,’ as you all like to say. Somehow, you and John got sucked in, and now Michael has too. What the hell is happening?”

  Blake came back to the table with a bottle of Yuengling and gave Angela a considering look.

  “What do you think is going on?” he asked, seating himself again and picking up his fork.

  “I have no idea,” Angela replied. “All I know is that someone is trying to kill both of my best friends, and no one will tell me anything. You’re all treating me like a toddler.”

  “Well, I agree that Alina is acting like a warden, but she’s trying to protect us,” Stephanie said, finishing her wine. “She could be a little more tactful, though. Ordering us around isn’t helpful.”

  “Exactly!”

  “At least now she can’t go anywhere, either,” Stephanie continued, getting up and going over to the wine cabinet. She opened it and surveyed their options. “So, we’re all in this together. Cabernet?” she asked, turning to look at Angela.

  She nodded. “Sure.”

  Stephanie pulled the bottle out and carried it to the table. Setting it down, she turned to go into the kitchen to get the wine opener.

  “Why can’t she go anywhere?”

  “Because the same person trying to kill me is also trying to kill her. Until they’re caught, nowhere is safe.”

  Blake lifted his head from his food, looked like he was going to say something, then changed his mind.

  “So you’re saying we’re all stuck here together?” Angela demanded. “Oh, she’d better have a lot of alcohol in this house or this will not end well.”

  Michael stepped outside and frowned. The deck was empty. Looking around, he spotted Damon standing near Angela’s BMW. The garage door was open and Alina’s Jeep and the Shelby were inside, but there was no sign of Alina.

  He went down the steps and across the grass. A large black shadow sat perched on top of the garage, and he eyed the hawk warily as he walked toward Damon.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Lina’s checking Angela’s car,” Damon answered.

  Michael looked in the garage and saw Alina in the back, rummaging through a box.

  “You think she’s got a tracking device too?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

  “You really think the colonel will target her?” Michael asked, leaning against Angela’s car.

  “At this point, I think anything’s possible,” Damon said grimly. “He’s tried to kill Stephanie three times now. Alina was right. It’s only a matter of time before he goes after Angela, hoping that she will lead him to Stephanie. He’s already hacked her online journal. He probably knows more about her at this point than e
ither Alina or Stephanie.”

  “Wait, what? What journal?”

  Damon glanced at him.

  “You don’t know about that? Where’ve you been?”

  “Busy digging up the information we needed on Harry,” Alina said, coming out of the garage with a rectangular box in her hand. “He wasn’t around for the journal debacle.”

  “Lucky you,” Damon told him.

  Michael raised an eyebrow and looked from one to the other. “So are you going to fill me in?”

  Alina pressed a button on the side of the box in her hand and walked to the front of the BMW. Holding it close to the car, she began to walk slowly around the front bumper.

  “Angela had the bright idea of keeping her diary online,” she said over her shoulder. “She enjoyed it so much that she decided to scan in all her old journals from years past. Harry tracked them down and hacked into them.”

  Michael frowned. “How do you know it was Harry?”

  “I’d tell you, but I know how much you hate hearing what I do for a living now.”

  Damon raised his eyebrows and looked at Michael quizzically. Michael ignored him, and turned to look at Alina over the roof of the car.

  “Just tell me.”

  Alina shrugged.

  “Before I severed Asad’s trachea, we had a little chat. He knew things about me that no one else knew, aside from the people who were there. I can count on one hand the number of people who knew some of those things, and one of them was my brother. Well, I know Dave wasn’t talking from the grave.”

  “Maybe it was Asad who hacked her journal,” Michael suggested.

  Alina shook her head.

  “Asad was wearing an earbud,” she said. “I took it out of his ear myself.”

  Michael sucked in his breath. “So you think Harry was coaching him in real time?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know,” Michael said slowly, shaking his head. “That seems far-fetched, even for your world.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s not,” Damon said. “One thing you should understand about Harry right now is that psychology is his specialty. He’s built his whole career on the ability to get inside the enemy’s head and make them do whatever he wants. He’s very good at it, and he incorporated that into our training. Trust me. Coaching Asad in real time to get inside Viper’s head is SOP 101 for Harry.”

  Michael was silent for a long moment. Alina rounded the back of the BMW, the box still held an inch away from the car. Michael moved out of her way, watching as she completed her sweep of Angela’s car. When she was done, she looked at Damon and shook her head.

  “Nothing.”

  “Maybe she’s not being followed,” Damon said. “If they put a tracker on Blake’s car, they would definitely put one on Angela’s. They seem to be overly fond of the damn things.”

  Alina switched off her detector and tapped her chin with it thoughtfully.

  “The people who put the tracker on Blake’s car weren’t Harry’s people,” she said slowly. “If Harry’s using one of his own people to follow Angie, they might not have used a tracking device.”

  Damon considered her thoughtfully.

  “You’re thinking it might be the shooter from the Rittenhouse?”

  “It’s possible. I lost him yesterday after Philly. It’s entirely possible that he doubled back to New Jersey. Hell, he could have been here all along.”

  “Okay, you’ve lost me again. What the hell are you talking about?” Michael demanded.

  Damon flicked him an amused look. “Come on, gunny. Keep up. Are we talking too fast for you?”

  “Remember I said there was a third shooter at the hotel in Rittenhouse Square when Stephanie went after Lowell and the virus?” Alina said, looking at Michael.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I saw him again yesterday. He was in Philadelphia.”

  Michael raised his eyebrows.

  “Philadelphia?” He repeated. He began to frown then his eyes widened in sudden understanding. “The shooter at the FBI building!”

  Alina nodded.

  “I was on my way out of the city when I saw him a block away from Stephanie’s building. He was walking up the street with a bag on his back. I followed him out of Philly, but lost him around Conshohocken.”

  “Well that explains who fired at Stephanie,” he said. “Have you told them? Blake would want to know that.”

  “I haven’t really had much time,” she said dryly. “It’s been kinda nonstop.”

  Michael smiled sheepishly. “Good point.”

  “If you’re right, and it is one of Harry’s protégés, then we need to look further than basic tracking devices,” Damon said, returning to the original conversation. “If you weren’t using a tracking device, how would you keep tabs on someone?”

  “I would tap into their GPS,” Alina answered immediately.

  Damon nodded slowly. “Same.”

  As one, they turned and looked at Angela’s BMW.

  “If he hacked into her onboard GPS, there would be an outgoing signal, correct?” Michael asked, following their gaze.

  “I wish it were that simple,” Damon said. “If he was trained by the Organization, and we have to assume that he was, then no.”

  Michael stared at them.

  “There has to be a way to find out, right? Come on. Do some of that magic assassin crap that you do all the time.”

  Damon grinned and Alina chuckled reluctantly.

  “Magic assassin crap?”

  “You mean to tell me that you can rig my truck, my phone, my laptop, and even my smart watch to conceal my location once I pass a five-mile perimeter around your property, but you can’t see if someone hacked a BMW’s GPS?” Michael asked incredulously.

  “Sorry. I’ve lost Harry Potter’s wand.”

  “Actually, there could be a way,” Damon said after a moment of thought. “Unfortunately, it would involve time and equipment that we don’t have.”

  “So, what? We’re just going to let Angela drive off and hope that her GPS isn’t compromised?”

  Alina shook her head.

  “No. We’re not. Angela’s car will have to stay here. If they’re linked into her GPS, they’re not reading anything while the car’s here.”

  Michael ran a hand through his hair.

  “This is getting more and more complicated by the second,” he said. “My truck is at the airport, probably with a tracking device on it, and now her car has been compromised as well. What are we supposed to do now?”

  “Well, your truck is out, for the time being,” Damon said. “Even if we got to it and removed any tracking devices, Harry has eyes through the CCTV cameras all up and down the East Coast. Honestly, that’s probably how he always knew where you were on the way here. Until this is over, the truck will have to stay at the airport.”

  “The Jeep and Shelby are also compromised,” Alina said, “as is Blake’s car. That just leaves Damon’s Audi and my rental Range Rover.”

  “If we can’t keep Angela here, you can take the Audi,” Damon told Michael. “If needed, I can pick up another vehicle.”

  “You say that like it’s just a matter of going to the store and grabbing a new pair of shoes,” he said. “Who are you people? Do you have a running assassin’s tab with the rental agencies? Or do you just steal them all?”

  Alina winked at him. “Trade secret.”

  She turned to take the detector back into the garage. When she was out of earshot, Michael looked at Damon.

  “I’m assuming you two have a plan?” he asked in a low voice. “If the colonel is the one behind everything, including Dave’s death, I want in.”

  Damon considered him thoughtfully for a long moment, his face impassive.

  “This can’t get personal,” he finally said.

  Michael held his gaze steadily.

  “Oh, this is personal all right,” he said, his voice like steel. “He made it personal. There’s no getting around that. But if you’re
worried that I’ll let emotion get in the way, don’t be. I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s what everyone says, right before it all goes to hell.”

  Alina came out of the garage, pressing a button inside the door. The automatic door slid shut and she looked at Michael as she walked up.

  “You’re good with keeping an eye on Angela?”

  “I’ll take care of her,” he assured her. “With any luck, we can convince her to stay here. If not, I’ll do what I can.”

  “I can’t ask for more than that.”

  “What about you?” Michael asked.

  The look that crossed over Viper’s face sent a chill down his spine.

  “I’ve got a target to prep.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  When they re-entered the house, the dining room table had been cleared of the Chinese food and plates. Blake was loading the dishwasher while Stephanie and Angela were in the process of finding homes for the assortment of snacks, frozen dinners, bagels and lunch meat.

  Alina took one look at the crowd in her kitchen and picked up the open bottle of Cabernet on the dining room table.

  “I don’t blame you,” Damon murmured in her ear as she poured wine into her glass. He glanced at Michael. “Beer?”

  “Please.”

  Damon nodded and strode into the kitchen.

  “Lina, I opened another bottle of wine,” Stephanie called. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Alina picked up her wine glass and walked over to sit at the bar. She watched as Blake finished loading the dishwasher and closed it.

  “You didn’t have to take care of the dishes,” she said.

  Blake grinned. “I have to earn my keep somehow.”

  “You’ve already earned your keep as far as I’m concerned.”

  Blake picked up his half-empty beer from the counter and walked over to sit next to her at the bar.

  “How’s that?”

  “You’re helping to keep Stephanie alive. You would have taken a bullet for her in the parking garage last night.”

  “Thanks to you that wasn’t required,” he said.

  Alina shrugged dismissively.

  “The fact remains that you would.” She hesitated, then looked at him. “I know you don’t understand why I was so reluctant to let you come here,” she said, her voice low so the others wouldn’t overhear. “It’s nothing personal.”