her office was on this floor.
But she didn’t have whatever microchip he’d been looking for. Didn’t know what he was talking about. It wouldn’t take the bad guy long to figure out he’d made a mistake. Whatever he was looking for, Rachel didn’t have it.
She was getting out of here. She needed to be away from guns, and falling elevators and police agents.
She just wanted to lose herself in her books. Avoid reality. It had always worked for her in the past; she hoped it would work for her again now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Crime scenes always took longer than anyone planned. This one, unfortunately, wasn’t an exception. Seth called in Charlie Hill, the maintenance supervisor, to give credence to Seth’s story about an interrupted burglary attempt.
The young uniformed officer obviously wanted to do more than just sit around and wait for a forensic team to show up and take over. Fortunately Seth kept him out of the room and occupied by giving him his “statement” about what happened. Seth conveniently left out the part about the gun and about Rachel.
Eventually a full report would be given to local law enforcement if it was deemed needed. Right now it wasn’t. Seth gave the man some information, but none of it was truly relevant to the bigger case at hand.
And he resented that it kept him from being with Rachel right now when she needed someone. Of course, now that she knew he’d been lying to her, Seth wasn’t sure that she’d even want him near her anyway. Something in him tightened at the thought.
He forced himself to draw out yet another unimportant detail so the cop could write it in his notebook and feel useful.
Finally the Omega representative and forensic team showed up to take over. The Omega rep —a woman in her mid-thirties that he’d seen around, but whose name he couldn’t remember— pulled him aside so he could give the story, th e rea l story, to her. He gave her all the details, eager to get back to Rachel’s office.
When the rep had everything she needed, promising to report any findings to him or the Bransons as soon as possible, Seth immediately headed down the hallway. He was still unable to shake that sinking feeling.
Of course, the bigger question was why he should even care what Rachel was thinking. He cared because he was a decent human, sure, and never liked to hurt an innocent. But he could admit these feelings were way more than just being a decent human. The thought that Rachel might not talk to him any more, might not give him any more of her shy smiles, might not study him when she thought he wasn’t looking…
He walked faster.
He would take her to a late lunch since it was already nearly mid-afternoon now. That stuff she’d been eating wouldn’t hold her very long and hadn’t looked too appetizing anyway. He’d feed her and make her understand that he really was sorry he’d had to lie to her. That he hadn’t meant to hurt her in any way.
He couldn’t give her many details about the case, but he could at least explain that she wasn’t part of it. That he hadn’t been using her.
Except for last night at the restaurant. He’d kind of been using her then. And when he’d talked to her about her colleagues over the last few weeks to find out if she knew anything —especially about Lydia, with whom Rachel had become so friendly.
Seth winced. Okay, maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.
He knocked on her office door. When no one answered he got out his master set of custodial keys and let himself in.
She was gone.
He checked to see if there was any note, then looked at his phone for any message.
Nothing.
He immediately pushed in the digits to dial her number. After a few rings it went to voicemail.
Rachel’s sweet voice. Hi, you’ve reached Rachel. You know me, I probably have my nose stuck in a book somewhere and didn’t hear my phone. So leave a message.
Seth left a
But she didn’t have whatever microchip he’d been looking for. Didn’t know what he was talking about. It wouldn’t take the bad guy long to figure out he’d made a mistake. Whatever he was looking for, Rachel didn’t have it.
She was getting out of here. She needed to be away from guns, and falling elevators and police agents.
She just wanted to lose herself in her books. Avoid reality. It had always worked for her in the past; she hoped it would work for her again now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Crime scenes always took longer than anyone planned. This one, unfortunately, wasn’t an exception. Seth called in Charlie Hill, the maintenance supervisor, to give credence to Seth’s story about an interrupted burglary attempt.
The young uniformed officer obviously wanted to do more than just sit around and wait for a forensic team to show up and take over. Fortunately Seth kept him out of the room and occupied by giving him his “statement” about what happened. Seth conveniently left out the part about the gun and about Rachel.
Eventually a full report would be given to local law enforcement if it was deemed needed. Right now it wasn’t. Seth gave the man some information, but none of it was truly relevant to the bigger case at hand.
And he resented that it kept him from being with Rachel right now when she needed someone. Of course, now that she knew he’d been lying to her, Seth wasn’t sure that she’d even want him near her anyway. Something in him tightened at the thought.
He forced himself to draw out yet another unimportant detail so the cop could write it in his notebook and feel useful.
Finally the Omega representative and forensic team showed up to take over. The Omega rep —a woman in her mid-thirties that he’d seen around, but whose name he couldn’t remember— pulled him aside so he could give the story, th e rea l story, to her. He gave her all the details, eager to get back to Rachel’s office.
When the rep had everything she needed, promising to report any findings to him or the Bransons as soon as possible, Seth immediately headed down the hallway. He was still unable to shake that sinking feeling.
Of course, the bigger question was why he should even care what Rachel was thinking. He cared because he was a decent human, sure, and never liked to hurt an innocent. But he could admit these feelings were way more than just being a decent human. The thought that Rachel might not talk to him any more, might not give him any more of her shy smiles, might not study him when she thought he wasn’t looking…
He walked faster.
He would take her to a late lunch since it was already nearly mid-afternoon now. That stuff she’d been eating wouldn’t hold her very long and hadn’t looked too appetizing anyway. He’d feed her and make her understand that he really was sorry he’d had to lie to her. That he hadn’t meant to hurt her in any way.
He couldn’t give her many details about the case, but he could at least explain that she wasn’t part of it. That he hadn’t been using her.
Except for last night at the restaurant. He’d kind of been using her then. And when he’d talked to her about her colleagues over the last few weeks to find out if she knew anything —especially about Lydia, with whom Rachel had become so friendly.
Seth winced. Okay, maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.
He knocked on her office door. When no one answered he got out his master set of custodial keys and let himself in.
She was gone.
He checked to see if there was any note, then looked at his phone for any message.
Nothing.
He immediately pushed in the digits to dial her number. After a few rings it went to voicemail.
Rachel’s sweet voice. Hi, you’ve reached Rachel. You know me, I probably have my nose stuck in a book somewhere and didn’t hear my phone. So leave a message.
Seth left a
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