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“Stitches for cuts on my arms. Lots of bandages, but I’ll heal. They wouldn’t tell us what happened to you.”
“I’d rather not recount it.” She hadn’t considered yet how much to share of her ordeal.
“We read they found Dr. Nygaard with you. Quite a handsome bloke—hope you got his number.”
In a flash, she was back in the woods, pressing her body against Mark’s and smelling the damp, earthy forest. “Now you mention it, I didn’t. I’m just glad to be home.” Given her liaison with him, she felt uneasy not having his contact information. She regretted the omission and found her complete lack of command over the past few days disturbing.
“Speaking of men, I got a date with Kieran Hughes.”
“Well done.” Shocked Kavita had shared something personal, Tess found her buoyancy mystifying, given what they’d endured. “I never figured you to be one for the rugby type.”
“Did you see his muscles?”
“Didn’t notice, I’m afraid.” Tess puzzled over why Kavita was behaving more chatty and friendly than ever before, practically purring into the phone.
“Ah, well. Anyhow, I’m sorry I was such a bitch before the attack.”
“Thanks.” Before Cedarcliff, Tess would have relished Kavita’s apology, but considering the deadly attack, their past animosity now seemed petty. “Hey, I know you were sore about not getting my vice president job, but Kingsley Tech needs our focus now, and I hope we can put aside our differences.”
“Fair enough. You’ve had terrible luck and have been so, well, out of control lately, which is rather unlike you.”
Three whole seconds separated Kavita’s apology from a fresh jab, and Tess blamed the painkillers for tricking her into believing collegiality was possible. She snickered at her underling’s frenemy-like qualities. Should anyone discover how nearly she’d careened off the rails at Torque, she expected Kavita would use it against her with glee.
Over the phone line, an airport announcement blared, along with the clink of glasses and muffled voices. “Not to worry. I just had a bad week. Where are you right now?” Tess faked nonchalance.
“The executive club at Heathrow. Just landed. I planned to visit my parents in Mumbai, but David needed me in London to oversee our emergency procedures. He’s calling a tech review soon, but I’m not sure when. Declan’s analyzing the Firefly code, and I’ll review our network perimeter to reinforce our lockdown the second I arrive.”
No way in hell would Tess allow an investigation of Kyle’s code without her being present. “Tell David I’ll be there.” Tess furrowed her brow. She needed to get back to work, fast.
“Forget it. David’s torn up about sending you to Cedarcliff in his place. I called him about the attack, and it’s like the bloke came completely unglued. He said you can’t return until you’re 110 percent healed.”
“No one really expects a terrorist attack.” At best, Tess’s healing had barely started, and her complete recovery might stretch weeks. Cobwebs clogged her brain, and she couldn’t focus for more than short blocks of time.
“The Metropolitan Police believe David is still in danger, so he’s quite stressed out,” Kavita said. “Don’t worry about a thing, though. I can cover your work.”
“No need. I’ve got this. A couple of days more and I’ll be fine.” Not to be discounted, Tess rallied to defend her turf and projected wellness in wild excess of reality. A shameless self-promoter, Kavita never missed an opportunity to snatch bits of Tess’s job for her own benefit.
“If you say so, but you’d better rest up.” Kavita signed off.
Tess gazed out her windows at Lake Union. London seemed impossibly far away, like a distant planet requiring too much effort to visit. Minutes became elastic, stretching to endless lengths ahead of her, then snapping back to mere seconds. Fretting about work, she downed another cup of espresso, bitter in her mouth, to chase away her painkiller-induced fog.
She turned her mind to the Rapadon mystery and considered that the terrorists might not know what the Rapadon program was, either. Intuition told her everyone was missing something, and she stretched her mind to figure out what eluded them. Caffeine hit her bloodstream, but the soft autumn drizzle enveloping Seattle failed to soothe her restlessness.
Chilled, she flicked on her gas fireplace and paused to reminisce over Kyle’s photograph on the mantel. One of her most cherished memories, she had snapped his photo the day they got engaged at Walworth Cove. Standing on the sandy English seashore with foaming waves curling around his bare feet, Kyle radiated joy and his green-eyed gaze sparkled. He wore swim trunks, and his gold Celtic amulet encircled his bare neck. Whenever her daydreams drifted toward Mark, she suffered conflicted pangs of guilt, like she had cheated on Kyle. “I’m sorry,” she whispered out loud. I was going to die, and I needed someone. But like the scent of white jasmine in late winter promised spring’s arrival, Mark continued to permeate her imagination.
Buzzing from multiple espressos, Tess spent the afternoon on the couch scouring the news on her laptop. Determined to understand Riku’s warning about the security landscape changing overnight, she checked for headlines in Eastern Europe. Deep into articles on Belarusian and Russian terrorist cells, she was scribbling notes when the doorbell rang.
“Be right there,” she called out. Clad in plaid pajama pants and her favorite rock concert sweatshirt, she teetered through her foyer on crutches, noting her stabbing leg pain had dissipated. She opened the front door with one hand.
“Hi, Tess.”
A familiar, accented voice greeted her through heavy sheets of rain. The drizzle had transitioned to a downpour, and the wind blew raindrops inside, wet against her skin. She glimpsed a shock of dark blond hair and recognized Mark’s blue-eyed gaze. “Mark?” To her surprise, her gauzy memories matched the svelte man standing on her doorstep. “Come in.” She softened her smile to reflect her delight and gratitude.
“Great to see you again.” Mark shook the rain off his navy wool coat and stepped inside.
His smile exuded warm energy, and his bruises had faded a couple of shades. Opening his arms to hug her, he paused a millisecond as if vetting whether she intended to hug him back. Without thinking, she wound her arms around his back and embraced him tightly. Her crutches fell into the foyer, and she laughed, trying to untangle them. “Weren’t you in New York?” Flustered, Tess tried to regain her composure.
“Change of plans.” He leaned back to study her face and touched the thin line of sutures melding the broken skin over her cheekbone. “The surgeon did an excellent job, and those stitches shouldn’t scar.”
