Stephanie Doyle - Suspect Lover

“So you knew Denny.”

“Yeah,” she admitted sadly. “He was a sweet guy. Harmless. His head was always in whatever program he was working on. I was convinced he wouldn’t have remembered to eat unless I reminded him. I can’t imagine who would have wanted to kill him.”

“What’s this program?”

Nora opened her mouth to explain, but Mark interrupted her with a raised hand.

“And don’t give me a bunch of computer mumbo jumbo and megawatts and RAM and all that crap. Just the basics.”

“According to Dominic, Denny has a program that can unscramble anyone’s encryption code. Can decrypt any data regardless of what software was used to encrypt it in the first place.”

“I’m with you so far. And this is bad?”

“This is very bad,” Nora answered. “Imagine having the power to unlock any and all secured data being transferred over the Internet. This kind of program, in the wrong hands, would be seriously dangerous.”

“Okay. That makes things simple. Somebody killed Denny to get their hands on the program and whoever that was, he set up Santos to cover his tracks. So who would have known about the program?”

“That is a very good question. Unfortunately, the only person I think who can answer that is…”

“Dominic,” Mark concluded.

“Dominic.”

“Then I guess we better hope he wants to be found.”

“He’ll come back. I know it.”

“You just said you’re afraid he’s gone rabbit for good.”

“I’m panicking, that’s all. He didn’t run because he killed Denny. He ran because he needed time to figure out who did. Once he does, he’ll come back. Until then, all we can do is help him put the pieces together.”

Nora lifted her feet up on the coffee table and settled deeper into the leather couch. In a way it was a relief to finally be able to share her thoughts with someone. And Hernandez wasn’t stupid. In fact, he was probably the best ally Dominic could have, even if he was somewhat unwilling.

“So now that you know he didn’t do it, who do you think did?” Nora asked.

Mark gave her a doubtful look. “I don’t know shit.”

“I told you he sent an e-mail to me that night. It’s going to confirm his alibi.”

“Sweetheart, I already know you tampered with the computer to hide the e-mail. How do I know you didn’t put it out there in the first place? That e-mail proves nothing.”

She huffed in annoyance. “What’s your theory, then? Dominic killed Denny and contacted me, an FBI agent, to come help him cover up his murderous and embezzling tracks by concocting some story about a big bad computer program?”

“You know, when you say it like that, it sounds a little far-fetched.”

“Hernandez,” she snarled.

“Shortcake,” he returned ominously. “Drop it. I’ve still got an ex-con on the run, a bride that’s flown the coop, one standing partner with a devoted but spoiled wife, a sleazy father-in-law and now a half sister who wants to believe her brother is innocent and isn’t afraid to lie and tamper with evidence to make sure that happens.”

Nora’s shoulders slumped. “You know, when you say it like that…”

“Exactly.”

“So what’s next?”

“What’s next is you are going to get your pretty little ass on a plane back to Washington and let me figure this out without your interference, which, by the way, is a criminal act.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said stubbornly.

“Fine. I’ll call your boss and let him know that you like to break laws on your vacation.” Mark stood up from the couch. “What do you think he’ll have to say to that?”

“You wouldn’t.”

He just looked at her over his shoulder.

“You would,” she said glumly. “I don’t care. Go ahead and spill, I’m not leaving until I know who killed Denny and am sure Dominic has been cleared.”

Mark sighed. He’d expected as much, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t follow through with his threat. Not that he liked the idea of being a tattletale. As a cop, it wasn’t in his nature to rat out one of his own. But he liked even less the idea of her doing something to screw up his case once he made it. As much as she tickled his fancy, he really couldn’t let her continue to interfere. On the flipside of that argument, her reasoning had been pretty sound throughout the investigation. She hadn’t been the worst partner he’d ever had.

“Out of curiosity only, who do you think it is? Steven Ford?”

“Could be,” she answered quickly. “Could be someone we haven’t even considered. Someone else who might have access to Dominic’s computer.”

“The secretary,” Mark muttered.

“Who?”

“Serena. Remember Ford thought it was possible that she might know Dominic’s password. He said he gave it to her occasionally, but then would change it. Maybe the last time he forgot.”

“Guess that means we need to talk to Serena.”

“Guess that means I need to talk to Serena. You’re going home.” Mark figured he had about a fifty-fifty shot of making that happen.

“Am not.” She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.

“Are too,” he said before he could stop himself.

“Am not.”

“Are too.” Make that forty-sixty.

“Am not.”

He snapped his mouth shut and struggled for patience. After all, he was not five years old. “Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

This, he decided, was going to be a long night.

“What time is it?”

“Early,” Dominic answered in a quiet whisper. “Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t. I keep thinking.”

Thinking about leaving him? Loving him? He wanted to ask but he didn’t want the answer. Forty-eight hours ago he’d been ready to walk out on her, tucked safely back in her tower where none of the ugliness of his past or present could touch her. Now he wanted to enfold her inside him so she would never not be a part of him.

He hated feeling this way. Hated how freaking vulnerable it left him, but he had no choice now. She’d cracked something open and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to close it.

Hated the feeling, yes, but he couldn’t hate her. Not when she was nestled against his side, her hand over his heart, her lips every so often brushing a kiss against his puckered nipple.

“When do you think we’ll make it back to Half Moon Bay?”

Not thinking about him at all, but about the situation instead. He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or not. “Two more days. Less if we drive straight through.”

“I want this over.”

Understatement of the year. He knew his reasons, but what were hers?

She loved him. She’d said it. Twice. But she also said there were times she didn’t want to and he wondered how strong her will was. Could she force her feelings to change? Direct them to behave?

He hadn’t been able to. That’s why when he’d left her that night after they fought, he had been certain that he couldn’t stay with her. He wouldn’t be able to control his emotions as he’d hoped. It couldn’t be halfway. Not with her. He’d plan to cut her out. Eject her from every pore of his body. It was the only way.

Just as he’d done in prison. All feelings, all emotions gone. It was how he survived. When he finally got out, it had been easier to keep going that way. To keep himself apart from everyone.

But then Nora showed up and made him laugh. Denny continued to need protecting. And Steven. Steven had felt like a friend. Little by little, year by year, they had made him ready, he realized. So that when he met Caroline the crack in his impenetrable defenses that had been forming and growing larger had just burst open. Busted so wide, so fast that it had scared the hell out of him and he’d wanted to close it off.