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Scarlett laughed, pushing up from the couch to get her shoes on. So flirty, Jesus.
I put the phone back in the box and tucked Patti under my arm as I stood.
“I’ll be in touch.” Daniel held his hand out and I took it, raising my eyes to his. Maybe I looked a little anxious, because he gave me a reassuring smile before releasing my hand. “Try not to stress too much. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
It kind of felt like he meant it, so that was nice. “Okay. I’ll text you on the burner phone when he contacts me again.”
“That’d be great.”
Scarlett was waiting at the door, so I said, “I’ll finish getting dinner ready,” and headed into the kitchen. Feeling much lighter and more hopeful than I had in a while.
CHAPTER 42
Grayson
Itapped impatiently on my desk as I waited to hear from the security team.
Finally, a video call came through from Farris. I appreciated the fact that she got straight to the point. “Sir, we have detected no activity from the hacker for the past three days.”
“What the fuck?”
She shrugged. “That’s what I said.”
I rubbed my temples, feeling the tension building in my shoulders. What was going on? Was he just toying with me?
“Since the moment we first realized this was happening, there has been some sort of activity from him every day. For weeks. Ranging from small and inconvenient to big and damaging.” She shrugged again. “Who knows? Maybe he’s dead. Or in a coma. Or he’s left the country.”
“Or the authorities have closed in on him.”
Could we be that lucky? This fucker had been three steps ahead of everyone. How likely was it he’d slipped up? Slipped up enough to finally give himself away?
“That’s a possibility,” Farris confirmed. “I can reach out to our contact at the FBI and see if there’s any intel.”
“Do that.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll report back as soon as I know anything further.”
“Thank you.”
Farris ended the call, and I sat there for a long moment, staring at the screen. What was he playing at? What was his end goal?
Fuck. This was a game of cat and mouse, and I was the mouse. I fucking hated being the mouse. Anger simmered in my gut, making me push to my feet and start pacing around my office. I never paced. I was the cool, calm, collected, in charge guy. Never worried or on edge enough to pace.
Yet here I was.
No, fuck that, actually. My office suddenly felt too small, too constricting. I had to get out of there.
Throwing some stuff in my briefcase, I pressed the intercom on my phone.
“Sir?”
“Sarah, I’m finishing up for the day. Reschedule my five o’clock appointment, please.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Understandable, since I never left the office before six. Her voice was a little doubtful, Sarah said, “Certainly, sir.”
“Thank you.”
I took the short drive home and pulled into the parking garage. Then I just sat there, staring through the windscreen at the dull concrete wall. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about Stef. Torturing myself, honestly. Jesus Christ, I missed her. I let myself imagine she was upstairs, right now, waiting for me. She’d be curled up on the couch with Patti, probably reading. I’d walk in, she’d bounce up from the couch and throw herself at me. I’d cook dinner for us, then we’d fuck. Or we’d fuck, then I’d cook, then we’d fuck again.