Page 5 of Fatal Conspiracy

“What files?” Derek asked, having no sooner finished the sentence when that fist darted out again to land a lightning punch on his nose and lip, blood spurting across the floor from one or the other or both. The pain momentarilyfilled his vision with stars. “I don’t know what files you want, man!” he exclaimed, dodging another blow to his face that landed on his right eye rather than his already sore nose.

“The app,” he grumbled, shoving the gun into Derek’s chest.

Derek wanted to play dumb, but with the gun in such close proximity to his heart, he opted for a lie instead. “The computer bag,” he said, his fat lip making it hard to speak. “Jump drive in the outside pocket.”

“Get it,” the guy said, motioning him toward it with the gun. “Drop the knife, and don’t make any wrong moves. We’ll get the drive, and then we’ll keep walking out the front door. You’re coming with me.”

Derek had forgotten he was holding the knife but dropped it immediately. He then walked slowly toward the front of the cabin, where his computer bag sat on the desk. The room had been ransacked, telling him he’d interrupted the guy’s search when he’d returned from the lake. He noticed the dark SUV in the driveway that he couldn’t see from the kitchen. The lights were off, but he could hear the motor. It had a little tic in its idle that he concentrated on as he walked to the bag and fumbled with it while he searched for an out. The old saying, “Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight,” ran through his mind. He tamped down the burst of laughter threatening since he didn’t even have a knife anymore.

Then it hit him. He did have a knife. His personal protection blade was still in his laptop bag, but he’d only have one chance to pull it and tag the guy before he could get off a shot. He dug through the bag, pretending he couldn’t find the drive until the gun barrel dug into his back.

“It’s here, just give me a second. It’s dark, and everythingin the bag is black.” His hand finally closed around the handle of the knife. “Found it.” He would have smiled, but his lip was too swollen, so he took a deep breath and concentrated on the next few moments of his life.

“Hand it over,” the guy growled, moving to the side but keeping the gun on him as he held out his other hand.

“With pleasure,” Derek said as he spun and jammed the knife into his cheek, eliciting an ear-piercing yowl from the guy.

Derek turned and ran for the back door, praying that the guy’s partner in crime wasn’t waiting there to take him out. It was a risk he had to take if he stood a chance of making it out alive. A shot rang out, and he braced himself for the burning pain of a bullet that never came, so he plowed through the back door and kept going into the night until the forest swallowed him up, and then he kept running.

Unfortunately, his options were limited with the lake to his front and the guys to his back. He didn’t have his phone or a boat, and it was too risky to be on Lake Superior in the dark anyway. He’d have to run parallel to the highway until he was far enough away from the cabin to find help. He was closer to Duluth than Two Harbors, so he turned to the right and headed along the shoreline, darting back into the trees where the shore turned too rocky. It was slow going and often treacherous as a late fall storm blew in, but he couldn’t risk stopping despite how badly his head pounded with every step. He could barely breathe, with his nose swollen on one side and his lip blocking the other. He stopped along the shore and scooped up the cold water, repeatedly holding it to his nose and lip until it numbed the pain. Then he got up and kept going.

Derek wondered who those guys were working for until a thought crossed his mind. Josh Hunt. The name made himpause. He didn’t see Josh, the owner of Virtual Scorpion Productions, as someone capable of such violence when he could just create his own app. As Black Marlin Technologies’ direct competitor in the app world, Josh had plenty of skills, not to mention several tech designers within his company who could create the same kind of app that Black Marlin had developed. Resorting to violence and kidnapping seemed outside the gate for Josh, or anyone, for that matter. He quickened his steps along the gravel road leading him to the highway. Once there, he could figure out how far outside of the city he was and then decide on his next move.

Thankfully, his cabin was on the scenic portion of Highway 61, which meant far less traffic this time of night. It would be easy to spot his attackers if they started searching for him on the deserted highway. He’d find safety somewhere for a few hours, then he’d have to return to his cabin. He didn’t care about his phone, computers, or the cabin itself. He cared about the one item he’d hidden away and had to pray those guys didn’t find it. Once he had that jump drive in his hands, he’d call the police, but not until then. Five minutes later, he noticed a bar two hundred yards ahead. All he had to do was cross the highway and approach from the other direction. Traffic was light, but he couldn’t risk being exposed for too long if those guys were looking for him. He looked left, then right, and took a deep breath as he darted onto the road. It wasn’t until he heard a squeal of brakes that he realized his mistake.

* * *

“TECH MOGULHUGOVICTORcollapsed and died at a conference today in Minnesota—”

Alayah switched the radio off with a sigh. She had lived that scene and didn’t need the constant reminder. She wasbeyond tired but keyed up at the same time. A harsh, derisive laugh fell from her lips. That tended to happen when the one person you were supposed to protect ended up dead. The preliminary tox reports said he was poisoned, but no one who’d witnessed it needed a tox report to tell them that. They’d watched it happen in real time. Hugo took a drink from his bottle, got out a few more words, and fell into a heap. She didn’t need a degree in medicine to know that something in the bottle had caused it.

The event coordinators had ultimately decided to postpone the conference until they were sure that the attack was aimed at Hugo and no one else, and the police also wanted to locate Hugo’s assistant to question him. Her mind immediately returned to the handsome man she’d met earlier that day. He was tall, lean and dressed to impress in a Hugo Boss suit that made her smile at the play on names. Derek Benjamin pulled off the billionaire CEO look without even trying, and she couldn’t help but hope he had nothing to do with this. She’d shaken his hand and exchanged witty conversation the whole while he’d held a bottle filled with ethylene glycol. Otherwise known as antifreeze. Did he know? According to Cal and the team, he was the last person to touch the water bottle, having handed it off to them to put on the stage, which Cal had done right before the conference began.

No one could have messed with the bottle after Secure One took possession. All of that said, Cal couldn’t prove it. They had a video feed of the water bottle on the stage, but what happened between the handoff and the start of the conference hadn’t been recorded. At least, not according to the convention center. Alayah didn’t believe it and planned to comb through their recordings from all angles to find proof that Secure One was not on the hook for this.

What she really wanted to know was why Derek didn’t answer his phone. The cops wondered if he thought their calls were spam, so they’d even tried calling him from Hugo’s phone, but still got no answer. That was… What did the kids call it these days? A little sus? Yeah, she thought so, too. She had every intention of using one of the Secure Watch computers to conduct a little digital investigation on the dude as soon as she arrived back at the hotel. Once they were told the conference was over for the day, she volunteered to meet a team member in Two Harbors who had some extra equipment they needed to sort out this mess with their reputation intact. That included scouring all available camera footage for her team’s movements during the morning. Since she couldn’t help them with much physically, the least she could do was drive an hour up the road for the handoff.

Exhaustion had crept in the last few miles, though, and she couldn’t wait to take a shower and cozy up in bed. She chuckled into the quiet of the car. Like that was going to happen anytime soon. It was all-hands-on-deck, so she still had several hours of work ahead of her when she returned to the hotel. At least Cal promised her a burger and fries when she returned. A yawn escaped just as she caught the tail end of something in her headlight beam. She slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. Whatever she’d hit went flying into the ditch with a scream.

A very human scream.

Chapter Four

Alayah yanked the wheel to the side of the road. She had to radio for help. Getting out of the car was dangerous for her, not to mention there was no way she could walk down the steep ditch in the dark. She’d call 9-1-1 and wait for emergency crews to arrive. Guilt lanced her. What if the person she hit was badly hurt and waiting meant the difference between life and death? Did she have a choice? What could she do to help someone who was gravely injured? Especially if she got injured herself. Before she could make the call, there was a tapping on her window.

A scream ripped from her throat when she turned her head and saw a distorted and bloody face staring at her. Fumbling for the buttons on the phone, the man frantically waved his hand at his neck. That was when it hit her. The man in her window was Derek Benjamin. She put the window down a fraction of an inch.

“Alayah!” he said, his voice breathy and panicked. “You have to help me.”

“I was just calling 9-1-1. What were you doing on the road? I can’t believe I did that much damage to your face!”

“You didn’t,” he said quickly, which stopped her hand midair. “You didn’t even hit me. I probably have road rash from diving for the ditch, but your fender just missed me.This—” he motioned at his face with his hand “—is the result of a beating at my cabin. I got jumped about thirty minutes ago. I was heading to that bar to get help when you came around that curve. I didn’t even see you coming.”

“Probably because one eye is swollen shut,” she said, taking stock of the man who was clearly terrified and victimized. “Let me call 9-1-1. You need medical care.”

“No time for that,” he said, glancing around the deserted road. “Those guys are probably looking for me. We need to get off this road before they see us.”

She didn’t know Derek Benjamin, but she knew he needed help. She could get him back to Duluth quickly, but could she risk letting him into her vehicle if he’d been responsible for Hugo’s death? If what he said was true, and someone was after him, could she live with herself if they found him and killed him? Were they the people behind Hugo’s death? It couldn’t be a coincidence that Hugo’s assistant had been attacked the same day Hugo was killed, right? She didn’t have answers to any of these questions except one. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t get him medical attention. She hit the unlock button on the door and motioned to the back seat.