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“It’ll be obvious the body has been there for twenty-four hours,” Elijah interjected. The forensics expert carried some sort of large case. “Even the county medical examiner could figure that out based on core body temp, much less the FBI task force.” He snapped on his gloves. “When can I get inside?”
“Reid should be here by now,” Noah muttered, glancing at his watch.
Narrow lines of worry deepened between his brows causing prickles of alarm to raise on Lyssa’s arms.
Behind her, Rafe, or the enforcer as she’d come to think of him, adjusted his eye patch. “Maybe the leak has him running cautious.”
“Could be.” Noah checked his phone again.
The streets had grown quieter; rush hour had ended. Lyssa shifted her position again. The men remained completely still, as if they were used to waiting endlessly. She couldn’t tamp down the tension. She twisted her fingers and scooted forward.
Noah tugged her back by the coat. He gave her a slight smile. “We’ve got this.”
“I know what’s up there,” she said. “What if Archimedes is watching?”
Noah turned to Zane, who studied his laptop. “You ID’d the street’s security and traffic cameras?”
The computer expert nodded. “A couple of subjects have come into view based on the anemic descriptions of Archimedes. None of them stayed. All of them met someone and walked off. Archimedes is a loner. He’s not here. Not in view.” Zane adjusted his screen. “By the way, I hacked into the system. I have control of the cameras now.”
Noah grinned. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
“I never knew you cared.” Zane tapped a few keys. “Still nothing. Reid’s nowhere in sight.”
Lyssa chewed on her lower lip. She had a bad feeling. She chanced a look at Noah.
His expression had grown solemn. Another scan of his phone. “Turn the cameras off, Zane. I don’t want a record of Lyssa returning to that apartment. Not while the body is there.”
Zane hit a few keystrokes. “Done.”
“We can’t wait for Reid any longer. Let’s move out.”
Elijah took point. He’d slipped his forensics case into a box and walked across the street as if he belonged. His entire demeanor had changed. Head bowed, he gave the impression of someone exhausted, going home from work, maybe who’d just been fired.
Noah placed his arm around Lyssa’s shoulders and pulled her against his side. His warmth drove away the chill from the weather, but with each step across the sidewalk, then into the street, she tensed against him. She had to stop; she needed to look around.
Her feet stopped moving. He pushed her forward, smiling down at her. “We’re lovers,” he whispered into her ear. “We’re going home, and that old woman thinks we’re eager to do the horizontal mambo. She’s jealous.”
He kissed the tip of her nose and led her toward the apartment building. “Relax. Almost there.”
She tried. She wanted to sink into the heat of him, to forget everything and let him lead, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t allow herself to be vulnerable and unaware. If she’d been better prepared, better trained, she could have done something the night Archimedes attacked. Maybe Jack would still be alive. Maybe they would be a family, with a white picket fence, a baby and another on the way.
Ultra-aware of the movements around her, she caught sight of Rafe and Zane moving in opposite directions, then circling back. If she hadn’t been watching for them, she would never have seen the tactic. These guys knew what they were doing.
Lyssa tried not to have too much hope, but a small fire ignited to life in her gut. Not big—she’d been singed before—but enough of a spark that she wondered if she might actually get out of this alive. She’d fully expected her confrontation with Archimedes to end with at least one of them dead, probably both.
As long as Archimedes couldn’t hurt anyone else she loved, Lyssa could live with that. But now, maybe... She clung to Noah. He tightened his hold in return. She hadn’t felt this way for a long, long time. Not since Archimedes had found her and forced her to make the toughest decision of her life.
Once they entered the apartment building, the subterfuge ceased. They headed straight up the stairs and down the empty hallway.
“Key?” Noah held out his hand. She gave it to him. He rotated the lock and pushed in the open door.
He stepped into the room, then stilled. Lyssa knew exactly what he saw. The memory of Gil’s body and mutilated face had burned itself into her brain.
After several seconds he faced her, his expression completely calm except for a fury blazing in his eyes. Then the rage fled, replaced with a sympathy that made Lyssa’s throat thicken as the emotions she’d fought to suppress resurfaced.
“You don’t have to come in,” he said, his deep voice soft and laced with compassion.
Part of her wanted to run, part of her always wanted to run, but she refused to give in. Archimedes had won too many battles. No longer.
“You might need me,” she said, following him into the apartment.
“What a psycho,” Elijah muttered, walking past her and kneeling next to the body.
“Search all the rooms,” Noah ordered. “Look for anything out of place.”
Zane and Rafe fanned out, beginning with the kitchen. Lyssa couldn’t take her gaze away from Gil. Noah grabbed Lyssa’s shoulders and turned her toward him. “Don’t.”
“I can handle it,” she said, shrugging away from his grasp. “I have to.”
She faced the room, forcing herself to study each shelf, each generic knickknack, each bit of decor she’d added to allay the landlord’s suspicions she might have something to hide. There had to be a clue.
Nothing stood out.
“I don’t notice—”
“Damn it,” he whispered under his breath, gripping her arm and stepping back. He pulled out his phone and hit a couple of codes. “Zane,” he called. “Get in here. Elijah, finish fast.”
Lyssa froze at the urgency in his voice. What did he see?
Zane exited the bathroom and Noah tilted his head toward the living room. “We’ve got eyes. Check out the ivy.”
Lyssa followed his gaze to the plant stand in the corner of her living room. A round electronic lens sat tucked on the edge of the pot.
“A camera?” she asked. Her body shivered. “Someone’s watching? Now?”
“Move it, Rafe,” Noah shouted. “We’re on the clock.”
Zane pulled out a palm-size screen. “Your jam is working. Audio and video.” He studied the device, then hooked his handheld to one of the wires. Furiously he tapped his screen. “Come on, just a little longer.”
His fingers quickened, but he started shaking his head. “I can’t trace it. He has the signal bouncing all over the world.” Finally Zane shoved the gadget into his pocket and disconnected the camera with a scowl. “He’s good. Maybe I learned a few of his tricks.”
“It better be more than a few,” Noah said. “We can’t afford to miss any opportunities. He knows we’re onto him. If you know his ploys, he knows some of yours.”
“You’re sure it’s Archimedes and not WitSec?” Lyssa asked, praying. She might be embarrassed that she’d run through the living room first thing in the morning with little more than a pair