Predator

  “What kind of things?”

  He didn’t answer right away.

  “That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

  “It’s just that…I’m not sure that we really know what’s going on yet. But Ian thinks Willow is gathering way more data about our GrapeVyne clients than we thought. Things that aren’t just for targeting advertising. Things that they’re collecting…for other reasons.”

  “That sounds pretty scary.”

  “Yeah, it is. So he’s been up all night trying to figure out who’s in on it and what they could be using it for.”

  “I knew it,” she said. “People are putting way too much information on the Internet, and there’s not really any such thing as true security, is there?”

  “No, actually, there’s not. Databases are only as secure as the people who control them. And even with the best developers and engineers and designers, with every change to a site come security breaches. But we don’t have the whole picture yet.”

  “If they have something to hide, they’re not going to like your going on TV, are they?”

  “No, they’ll be mad as hornets. I may only get one shot at this before they try to shut me up.” He slammed his steering wheel. “That truck is getting on my nerves.”

  She turned again, saw that the truck was still riding way too close to their bumper. Ryan had sped up to eighty, and the truck kept up. Finally, it changed lanes and sped up. “He’s going around you.”

  Ryan slowed down to let them go by. But the truck got even with him and stayed there. He slowed even more, and so did the truck. “What is he doing?”

  Moonlight glistened on the truck’s window, and he saw it coming down. Ryan touched his brakes.

  Thunder cracked…his windshield shattered. No, not thunder…gunfire.

  Krista screamed.

  Someone was trying to kill them!

  “Get down!” Ryan cried.

  Krista bent double, covering her head. Ryan’s car spun as another bullet knocked out the backseat’s side window.

  He turned the car around, going the wrong way on the interstate, hoping to put some distance between him and the shooter, but there was more gunfire. A bullet knocked out a tire, making him skid and lose control.

  The skid threw Krista against the door. They were going to go off the road…into a ravine.

  The firing stopped, and Ryan looked out the back window. The truck was in reverse, backing up. Turning around, it came toward them again, rammed Ryan’s car, making it slide to the edge of the embankment.

  Who were these people?

  His tires lost traction, and he felt the slide. His head rammed against the window as the car flipped. Airbags blew out, and he managed to touch Krista’s back, as if his arm could protect her as they rolled and bounced…and crashed at the bottom of the ravine.

  When the Jaguar came to a halt and stopped moving, they both hung upside down. Blood rushed to Ryan’s face as he looked at Krista. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She was gasping for breath. “Are you?”

  He steadied himself on the roof of the car, which was now on the ground, and unbuckled his seat belt. “I’m okay,” he said. “We gotta get out now. It could blow up.”

  He helped her get her seat belt open, helped her right herself in the car. “Out your side, so they won’t see us.”

  She tried to open her door, but it was bent and stuck. Her window was partially broken, and Ryan looked around for something to break through the glass. An umbrella was wedged between the seats. He yanked it out and rammed it into the window, knocking out the rest of the glass. Thankful it was still dark, he urged her through the hole first, then slid out behind her.

  Protecting Krista with his arm, he pulled her along, away from the car and into the dark woods. He couldn’t see where he was stepping. Twigs tore across his skin. She hit a tree branch with her forehead and ducked, stumbled. He helped her back up.

  They heard gunfire again from the road above them, then a sudden whoosh.

  “Down!” He pulled her to the ground and covered her body as fire swelled from the car like a greedy demon. The gas tank exploded in a thunderous bolt.

  “They must think we’re in there, dead.”

  The fire from his car illuminated their path, and he grabbed her up and ran deeper into the brush. He turned and looked up at the road. The truck’s headlights turned as it righted itself in the lane. As it drove away, he let out a grateful breath.

  “God help us, they were trying to kill us.”

  Krista was trembling, and she struggled to catch her breath. “Who…who was that?”

  “Had to be two people—the driver and the shooter—but I didn’t see their faces.”

  “Could it be Ella’s killer?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “Or someone who didn’t want us doing that interview.”

  “Your board members?”

  “No, couldn’t be. They’re businessmen, not killers. Just because they fired me doesn’t mean they want me dead.”

  “I want to get out of here in case they come back,” she said. “Do you have your phone?”

  Ryan reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his phone, grateful it hadn’t gotten smashed in the wreck. He made the call to 911. But he knew that by the time the police got there, the shooters would be long gone.

  Forty-three

  Ryan sat in the ambulance with Krista, watching out the open back doors as police and fire fighters worked around his smoldering Jaguar. His chest felt as though a vice was clamped over his heart. The smell of burned leather, rubber, and metal wafted up from the ravine, and smoke still hovered like a low-lying cloud.

  Krista shivered as if she sat in subzero temperature, and the red knot on her temple signaled a possible concussion. The EMT turned off his pin light. “I don’t think you have a concussion,” he said, “but you need to be checked out by a doctor. We’d like to transport you to the hospital.”

  “No, I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt. I want to stay here and talk to the police.”

  “The police can interview you at the hospital.”

  Ryan squeezed her hand. “You have to go, Krista. I’ll come with you.”

  She turned her fierce gaze to him. “But those guys are still out there, Ryan. They tried to kill us. We have to give the police all the information they need to find them, now.”

  “But ma’am, you were both thrown around pretty good. As a precaution—”

  “We don’t have time for this!” Krista got out of the ambulance.

  Ryan followed her. “Krista, are you sure?”

  “Where’s the officer in charge?”

  Ryan looked down the embankment and saw an officer with a camera. “Maybe there. Krista, I want to make sure you’re all right.”

  “I’m fine, just like you! The Jaguar has great airbags.” She stormed over to the cop who’d questioned them originally.

  Ryan didn’t know why his brain seemed so sluggish. His thoughts moved in slow-motion, as though the live-stream video of his life had hit a snag. But Krista was right. They had to help the police find that truck.

  The ranking officer, Sergeant Rutherford, had them sit in the backseat of his car, where he could question them.

  “When did you first notice that you were being followed?”

  Ryan tried to steady himself. “I’m not sure. Maybe at my house, when I was pulling out of my driveway.”

  Krista looked at him. “Really? You didn’t say anything when you picked me up.”

  “I didn’t think they were following me then. I just remember noticing headlights behind me, and thinking someone else was up and at ’em kind of early. I didn’t notice them behind me all the way to your house, so they must have kept their distance.”

  “So it’s possible that they were waiting for you to come out of your house?”

  “I guess so, but how would they know I was leaving then? I had the interview for this morning, but I didn’t tell anyone except Ian. Kris
ta, you probably told your dad, right?”

  “Yes. No one else.”

  Sergeant Rutherford shook his head. “Actually, I saw a promo about it late last night when I was getting ready for my shift.”

  Ryan met his eyes. “A promo?”

  “That’s right. The Today Show mentioned you were one of their guests this morning.”

  Ryan raked his hand through his hair. “That explains it. Word got out, and someone who didn’t want me talking did this.”

  “Who didn’t want you to talk?”

  He gave him a list of the men who sat on his board.

  “Did you recognize any of them in the truck?”

  “No. It was dark. I didn’t recognize the truck, either.”

  He gave him a description of the truck, but half the population of Texas had trucks like it. Since they didn’t have the tag number, they were hamstrung in finding the shooters.

  “If I were you, I wouldn’t go home,” Rutherford said. “You might not be safe there.”

  Ryan thought of the truck turning around and driving off after the car went up in flames. “They think I’m dead. They didn’t see us get out of the car before it blew. That’s why they took off.”

  Rutherford scribbled something in his notebook. “Maybe it would be a good idea to let them keep thinking that until we find them.”

  Krista shook her head. “I can’t let people think I’m dead! My dad has been through enough.”

  “And Ian.” Worried his friend would hear about his accident, Ryan pulled out his phone, dialed Ian.

  It rang four times, and he expected voicemail to pick up, when Ian finally answered. “When are you going on the air, man? I’ve seen enough beauty secrets and recipes to last me a decade.”

  “Not going on,” Ryan said. “Someone tried to kill me. My car exploded.”

  “What? Who?”

  “We don’t know. It could be related to Ella’s case…or it could be someone at GrapeVyne. No matter who it was, you need to leave my house. If they get word that I survived the crash, they may come there to finish what they started.”

  “Wow.” Ian hesitated a moment. “All right, I’m packing it up right now. Guess I’ll keep working at my house.”

  “No, that may not be safe either. Watch for a black truck, man. They have guns.”

  Suddenly, Ryan heard a crash over the phone line, and Ian cursed. Then the phone clattered, and he heard Ian yelling.

  “Ian!” Ryan yelled. “What’s going on? Ian!”

  There was a sound as loud as a freight train, then the phone cut off. “Something just happened,” he told Sergeant Rutherford. “I’ve got to get to my house.”

  “I’ll take you,” the cop said. As he called dispatch to get a car to Ryan’s house, he started his car.

  As the siren came on, Ryan and Krista hooked their seat belts. Ryan stared out the window as they drove toward his house, praying that Ian was safe, that he’d only broken the phone. That was possible. He could have knocked the lamp over. The crash could have been the base breaking. Maybe he dropped the phone when he tried to pick it up.

  Krista’s soft eyes contemplated Ryan as he tried to call Ian back. But there was no answer.

  “They got to him,” he whispered. “They did something…”

  They were silent as they flew through town, siren roaring. Radio transmissions crackled back and forth, but Ryan couldn’t understand what they were saying.

  As they rounded the curve to Ryan’s house, he leaned forward, hands gripping the front seat. As his house came into view, his chest closed tight. He couldn’t breathe.

  Flames engulfed his home.

  Ian!

  Ryan was out of the car before it came to a complete halt. The police officer who’d beaten them to the scene stopped him from running toward the house. “You can’t go in there.”

  “But my friend is in there! We’ve got to get him out!”

  “Over here, buddy!”

  Ryan swung around and saw Ian sitting in the backseat of a police car. His laptop was on his knees.

  Ryan almost collapsed in relief. He went to the car and slapped his hands on both sides of Ian’s face, smacked a kiss on his forehead. Then he looked into Ian’s bloodshot eyes. “What happened?”

  Ian shook his head. “No idea. I was talking to you on the phone when something came flying through the window. It rolled across the floor. A grenade or some kind of bomb, I guess. I dropped the phone and ran out the front door, and I saw a black truck taking off. Just like you described.”

  “Did you see who it was?”

  “No. I tried to run after them to get their license plate, but I lost them. When I came back, the house was on fire.”

  Ryan tried to think. “It had to be Willow. They were trying to destroy everything we had against them. Maybe they knew you were snooping last night.”

  “Well, they didn’t get everything.” He held up his laptop. “I was holding this when it happened.”

  “Guard it with your life,” Ryan said.

  Ian gave a nervous laugh as he hugged the laptop to his chest. “I think I just did.”

  Forty-four

  The interview room at the police station was too cold, as if the city leaders had decided not to spend money on heat. Krista sat next to Ryan, unable to control her shaking.

  He put his arms around her, rubbing her arms to warm her up. He looked at the two detectives across the table. “Do you have a blanket anywhere?”

  Pensky, the detective who was investigating Ella’s, Megan’s, and Karen’s cases, left the room and came back with a blanket.

  Ryan took it and draped it around Krista.

  “Why are you working on this case?” Krista asked the detective. “Do you think it has something to do with Ella’s killer?”

  Pensky looked at Detective Sanders, assigned to Ryan’s case. “We don’t think it’s related, but Detective Sanders asked me to join the investigation to make sure.”

  “But this is about me,” Ryan said, “not her. It was my house that was burned. Krista was just an innocent bystander.”

  “That looks to be the case,” Sanders said. “We have a car on your street now, Krista, watching to make sure nothing is attempted there. But I wanted Detective Pensky to know the details, just in case there’s any crossover.” He shifted in his seat, glanced at his notes. “We’re working on questioning the board members of Willow.”

  “If it was any of them, they’ll have alibis,” Ryan said. “They wouldn’t do it themselves. They have plenty of money. They’d hire someone.”

  “So if you’re right,” Sanders said, “and they’re the ones who wanted you dead, what were they trying to cover up?”

  Ryan told them about Ian’s suspicions. He knew it was over their heads. Though these men seemed competent, cyber crimes were probably out of their league. He urged them to call in the FBI’s cyber crimes unit.

  “Is there anyone else you can think of who might want you dead? An old enemy from outside the company? A competitor?”

  “No competitor would consider me a threat after yesterday. But yeah, I might have enemies. You don’t run a billion-dollar business and not have a few enemies here and there. But I don’t think they’d go as far as wanting me dead.”

  “Who’s next in line for your position?”

  “Well, Ian would have been, but he got fired too.”

  “Did Ian blame you for his firing?”

  Ryan stared at him. “No, not at all.”

  “But he knew when you were going for the interview this morning, right?”

  “Yes, he was at my house when I left.”

  “And he was still there when the explosion happened.”

  “Yes.” Ryan leaned forward. “Where are you going with this, Detective?”

  “We just have to consider every possibility. You two built GrapeVyne together, right? Yet you were considered the owner, and you were the one who got a hundred million when you sold it.”

  “That’s
because I invented it, wrote most of the code that got us off the ground, and I got the funding when we were getting started. I’ve been the owner from Day One. He’s never had the slightest problem with that.”

  “That you know of.”

  “Look, he got pretty rich too. He was given a huge bonus to stay on when I sold the company. He has a seven-figure salary.”

  “Had.”

  Ryan grunted. “You don’t know him. He’s my best friend. He knows we can start over with something even more innovative than GrapeVyne.”

  Someone knocked on the door, and a female officer stuck her head in. “Detective, we just got a call that Ian Lombardi’s house was robbed this morning. Some officers went by there with him on the way here, and they found the place had been ransacked, computer equipment taken, all of his files, financial records…”

  Krista gasped. Ryan turned back to the detectives. “See? He’s a victim too!”

  “Robbery’s a far cry from a murder attempt and a bombed house. We’re not saying he had anything to do with it, but he could have staged this. We have to question him.”

  “You’re way off-track, man. Can’t you just consider that everything I’ve told you is true, and they hoped to kill him in my house? His car was there, man. They knew he was inside.”

  He looked at Krista, saw the doubt in her eyes.

  “Ryan, he had access to Ella’s and Megan’s pages.”

  “Don’t even think it,” he said. “Ian’s my best friend. He would never do this to me.”

  Forty-five

  David’s alarm went off some time after Krista left the house. Throwing off the blanket she’d covered him with, he got up and went into the kitchen. The coffeepot was full of hot coffee. He poured himself a cup and turned on NBC, hoping he hadn’t missed her interview.

  He zoned out as they were doing a cooking segment outside Rockefeller Center, debating whether to use charcoal or propane.

  He thought of Krista in the television station, getting her hair and makeup done, and going on TV to talk about Ella’s death. How could she do it? The death was so fresh to him, the wound still so wide open, that he could never go on national TV and answer questions intelligently.