The Shark (The Forgotten Files 1)
“An ambitious man who wants to dethrone this card player might make a run at taking you,” Bowman said. “Think about the woods today.”
“Until he’s caught,” Shield said, “we need to keep you under surveillance.”
She clung to calm composure. “I can’t stop living my life. If this guy wants me, there’s going to be no stopping him.”
“I’d like to use an embedded microchip,” Andrews said. “If you’re taken, we’ll be able to find you and the Shark.”
She would have laughed if he didn’t look so serious. “You’re kidding.”
Andrews didn’t blink. “No.”
“What kind of chip?”
“It’s the size of a rice kernel. I’ll insert it under your skin. It’s not painful and can be removed after the case is closed.”
She rubbed her arm. “Where under my skin?”
Andrews nodded. “On the inside of your upper arm. No one will see it.”
She didn’t like the idea of being tracked. But to wish and hope wouldn’t get her anywhere. She needed to be smart. “When can you do it?”
“Now.”
“Do it.”
Bowman stood silent, watching as Andrews rose. “Follow me.”
She and Cooper trailed behind him with Bowman and Shield on their heels. They moved into a sterile room where a large chair with an armrest sat beside a small table that was covered with a surgical drape. They’d been ready for her. Expected her to say yes.
“Am I that predictable?” she asked no one in particular.
“Bets were split whether you’d say yes or no,” Shield said.
“Should I ask where you put your money, Bowman?”
“I bet on you,” he said.
Had he really or was he now simply saying what would smooth the waters? “I’m always a safe bet.”
She sat in the chair and raised her arm, revealing the long bruising scrape from the trek up the mountain today. Cooper settled beside her, and for his sake, she kept cool.
Bowman frowned. “That happened today?”
“I’ve done worse while training.”
“You didn’t say a word.” The words sounded rough, as if he’d ground them between his teeth before he spat them out.
His irritation rankled her. “Complaining doesn’t help, and Cooper notices when I’m upset.”
Bowman didn’t respond, but he wasn’t happy.
Andrews donned latex gloves and approached her with a syringe. She hated needles, so she looked down at Cooper. Didn’t make sense why they made her so jumpy or woozy, but they did. Realizing Bowman’s gaze was locked on her, she sat a little straighter and stilled her arm, balling her fingers into a fist. She’d be damned if she’d go all light now.
Andrews rubbed her skin with an alcohol pad. “This next pad is going to numb the skin so that I can make the injection.”
The cool, gentle swipe of the pad did not calm her nerves. “Okay.”
“It’s Novocain and will numb the site,” Andrews said.
She held her gaze on Cooper. “Okay.”
“Just a little prick,” Andrews said. “And then you will feel a little pressure when I insert the microchip.”
She drew in a breath, doing her best to look calm. “And when this is all over, you can get that thing out, right?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s a simple procedure.”
A minute later he said, “You’re all set.”
“That’s it?”
“You’re good to go.”
“So do I need to avoid any microwaves or garage door openers?” Riley asked.
Andrews came close to smiling. “No.”
Bowman and Shield stared at her, their expressions serious, with no hint of humor. She’d have called them on their stiffness if she weren’t so twisted in knots. “Great. Then I’m good to go.”
“Sit here for another few minutes,” Andrews said. “I just want to make sure you don’t have a reaction.”
“A reaction? What does that mean?”
He pulled off his latex gloves. “It’s different with everyone.”
“Toss me a couple of examples, Mr. Andrews.”
“Itching. Hives. Bleeding.”
“Lovely.” She rolled down her sleeve. “How long do I have to sit here?”
“Fifteen minutes. I’ll get you some water to drink.”
“Thanks.”
When Andrews left, Shield said, “We’re going to find the Shark.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.”
Shield left her alone with Bowman. He leaned against a table and folded his arms in front of his chest. “You have no color in your face.”
“Get a probe stuck in your arm and see how you look.”
“Until ten minutes ago you had a nice tan.”
“It’ll be back.” She gingerly touched her arm. “So, who’s going to be tracking my signal?”
“From this location, it’ll be Andrews. Remotely, it’ll be me,” Bowman said.
She frowned, not liking the idea that they would know her every move.
As if reading her thoughts, Bowman said, “Look, Shield found you. And someone else found you and put that DVD on your porch.”
And Hanna had picked up the package. Inadvertently, this killer had touched her life, and that bothered Riley more than her own safety. “Point taken. Who were the other girls killed in New Orleans? Do you have the profiles I requested?”
“I do.”
“I want to see them.” Andrews returned to the room, handing her water.
Bowman d
idn’t speak for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Come into my office.”
She and Cooper followed him to a large carpeted office. Boxes filled with books, diplomas, and pictures lined the walls.
“You’re not quick to settle in, are you?”
He sat behind his computer and tapped a couple of buttons. “I’ll get to it.”
As Cooper lay on the floor by the desk, she moved around to the credenza. She picked up the picture featuring a younger version of Bowman and a woman who looked up at him with adoring eyes. “Your wife?”
He glanced back, studying her holding the image of what must have been the key picture marking his past. “Yes.”
“She’s pretty. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Deflecting the comment, he opened a file. “Is Hanna still in Georgia?”
“Yes, she is.”
“Good. Better she’s out of town.”
“Agreed. I don’t want this guy anywhere near her. She’s seen enough to last a lifetime.”
“She seems like a good kid.”
“She is. And she’s a hell of a sprinter and swimmer. No one gets past her.”
“You said she wants to go to college.”
“She’s smart. Real smart, and it would be a waste for her not to get the opportunity. She’s supposed to be working on her essays while she’s traveling.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“It’s mutual.” Riley didn’t realize how much she had isolated herself until Hanna had come into her life. Suddenly, evenings weren’t spent alone reading or working out but helping with math homework, driving Hanna to swim practice, or teaching her how to drive. The idea that anything bad could happen to the kid knotted her insides.
Bowman opened the file that featured the images of four girls he’d come across while doing his own research. “What kind of fantasy is this guy working out?” He clicked a button and a printer began to spit out copies. “Maybe you’ll see something we all missed.”
“I’m not sure what, but I’ll look them over.” Riley glanced at the time. “I need to get on the road. It’s a solid forty-five minutes of driving. And I’ve an early shift tomorrow.”
“Shield has suites in the building if you’re too tired to drive. I’ve stayed here on a few late nights.”
“I’ll be fine. Rather sleep in my own bed.” She glanced around, looking for Andrews. “Can you check with your buddy and see if he can cut me loose?”