“Or it’s meant for you,” I say.
“Me?” Her brow furrows. “Maybe,” she says, showing no resistance to the idea. “It was my house he was watching, but the numbers feel related to you, not me. Do you understand what they mean?” The elevator dings and the doors open.
We step into the lobby and start walking toward the door. “It’s a name that isn’t a name,” I say, and when most people would just stare at me after a statement like that, she follows my lead immediately.
“Like a VIN or part number?” she asks.
“It’s neither of those things. I’m hoping once you look at it it’ll mean something to you.” We exit the front of the hotel and I pull my phone from my pocket and key in a message. “I just sent you a text with the sequence,” I say, following her to the car door that the doorman is holding open for her. “See what it means to you, if anything.”
“I left my phone at home.”
I hand her mine with the message pulled up and palm the doorman a large bill, as he helps her into my rental. Once I join Harper in the car, I place us in drive and glance her direction. “Any idea what it means??
?
“I wish I did,” she says, “But I don’t.” She turns to me, engaged, not avoiding. My paranoia over the message being for her was about my need to protect myself when I’m supposed to be protecting her. “You’re sure it’s not a parts number?” she asks.
“I’m one-hundred-percent positive,” I say. “It’s not a parts number, or not one in any recognized database.”
“But there’s so many parts and manufacturers and—”
“It’s not a parts number,” I say, turning us toward her house.
“What about a VIN number for a competitor?”
“No.”
“How do you know?” she presses. “I mean, I get that you’re a numbers guy, but VIN numbers could be data added and deleted from databases that you might not have access to.”
“It wouldn’t be sequenced in that manner,” I insist, pulling us into her driveway. “But we’re not without resources. Blake Walker is considered one of the best hackers in the world. He’ll look for a connection that isn’t obvious.”
“The part where he’s a hacker. Is that a good or bad thing?”
“He’s one of the good guys. The kind our own military contacts for help. He’s going to run the sequence and see what technology reveals.” I park and kill the engine.
“Okay, then another question: is this a warning or a clue?”
“If it were a warning, it would be something more obvious.”
“Right,” I say. “I mean, people have died. It makes sense someone would want to help us. People closer to this than I am in some way. It makes sense they’d know you to be the one that would stand up against the Kingstons.” Her gaze goes to her door. “I bought this place a year after meeting you, my escape from Kingston hell.” She glances over at me. “I didn’t know you’d lived in this area and yet I gravitated here. That’s odd, right?”
“Kismet, sweetheart,” I say softly.
“Yes,” she says, the air thickening between us. “Kismet.”
I stroke her cheek. “Let’s go inside.” I reach for the door.
She grabs my arm and her attention is riveted on the house. “Are you really sure this is a good idea? Is it safe?”
“You have me, sweetheart,” I say giving her a wink. “You’re safe.”
“From everyone but you?”
I lean over and stroke her cheek. “If you had protection from me, how would I ravish you night and day?”
She laughs and strokes her fingers over my jaw. “And I do want to be ravished by you.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” I kiss her and straighten. “I’ll grab my bag and then come around and get you. Wait on me.”