“It’s not that interesting,” Ozzie muttered.
“Oh, puh-lease.” Delilah rolled her eyes. “Since when have you ever been one not to talk about yourself? Just tell her.”
Ozzie frowned at Delilah. She frowned back just as hard. Finally, Ozzie gave in. “So I got into computers at a really young age,” he said.
Because your drunk father left you alone in your room all the time, and your computer, cassettes, and VHS tapes were your only friends, Emily wanted to add. But she kept her mouth shut.
“Because of that,” Ozzie continued, “I became known as the Whiz Kid. That nickname stuck all throughout school. But that year I spent in college, I wasn’t a kid anymore, so the name morphed into the Wizard of Oz. And then, once I joined the navy, Wizard of Oz had too many syllables. Too much work for my CO when he wanted to scream at me. So he shortened it to Oz, which over time became Ozzie.” He peeked over at Samantha. “See. Told you it wasn’t very interesting.”
Au contraire, Emily thought. When it came to Ozzie, Samantha found everything about him endlessly fascinating. The woman stared at him with such blatant adoration that Emily was once again hit with the interesting thought that it might be within her power to find a way to keep the couple together.
“So you asked Washington for the list hoping you could use your super-duper computer skills to hack into the Basilisks’ PCs,” she prompted.
“Right.” Ozzie nodded.
“But then what?” Samantha frowned. “It’s not like Washington can act on any information you might find, given it would’ve been obtained illegally.”
“Ever heard of an anonymous tip?” Ozzie’s smile was decidedly enigmatic.
“La-la-la!” Samantha singsonged, plugging her ears. “I’m pretending I didn’t hear that.”
“Well, I heard it,” Delilah declared. “And I want in. It’s been a while since I’ve taken on a an interesting case and—”
“Case?” Samantha interrupted. “Don’t tell me. You’re, like, what? Former FBI?”
“I sometimes moonlight as a forensic accountant,” Delilah admitted.
“Ex-cuse me?” Samantha sputtered. “Who the hell moonlights as a forensic accountant?”
“She does,” a chorus of voices sounded. Both Emily and Christian pointed at Delilah. In response, Samantha looked askance at them all. Like at any moment, they might rip off their faces and reveal they were, in fact, lizard aliens. Emily understood. It was a lot to take in all at once.
“Well, then.” Christian shoved his chair away from the table. “Sounds as though a plan is in place. I’ll toddle off to Bedfordshire”—Emily had learned that was the British equivalent of hit the hay—“and leave the hacking and the accounting to the experts.”
“I’ll come with you.” Emily pushed to a stand. From the corner of her eye, she saw Christian blanch. “Oh, for crying out loud.” She punched him in the arm. “Not with you to bed. You should be so lucky.”
He didn’t say anything. Just gave her a look. Then he turned and headed toward the stairs.
“You should be so lucky,” she muttered again under her breath, stomping after him.
Chapter 17
Evanston, Illinois
Venom watched Hawkeye amble down the street toward the stolen SUV they had used to follow home the maintenance man from the Tribune Tower. The Basilisks always kept an untraceable vehicle on hand for various reasons. And their plan tonight had been to kill the asshole maintenance man and whoever else happened to get in their way, steal his security pass and uniform, and then ransack the place to make it look like a robbery gone bad.
But before they could bust into the A-hole’s cookie-cutter, 1950s-era tract house, he had emerged on his front porch and moseyed down the block to the corner bar boasting a Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer sign above the door. Thinking quickly, they had sent Hawkeye in after him to suss out the situation.
That was thirty minutes ago.
Now, Hawkeye hopped into the back of the SUV. He brought with him the smell of cheap beer and bottom-shelf booze. “Dude was an open book after I got the second beer in him. So here’s the dealio. He lives alone. He’s looking to tie on a real pisser tonight ’cause he has tomorrow off work. Which has me thinking, brohas. We’d be better off stealing his shit now, while he’s gone, than waiting for him to come home so we can wax him. He prolly won’t miss his uniform or his security badge until he goes looking for ’em day after tomorrow. He’ll be nursing a hangover until then, yo.”
Venom had been amped to spill a little blood—it’s been too long—but maybe Hawkeye was right. It was better to get in, get what they needed, and get the fuck out without leaving any evidence or carnage behind.
“Makes sense to me.” Crutch flicked a cigarette butt out the window. The maintenance man lived in a decidedly low-class Evanston neighborhood. It wasn’t like anyone would complain about litter on their lawn.
“Fine.” Venom didn’t try to hide the disappointment in his tone. “You two go get it done. I’ll wait here in case our newfound friend decides to make an early night of it.”
If he did, Venom would be waiting.
*
Black Knights Inc. Headquarters
“I think we’re down a man,” Delilah said.
Ozzie scrubbed a hand over his face, following the thumb Delilah hooked to his left. Samantha, who had pulled up a chair beside him at the bank of computers, was out cold. No surprise considering that when he glanced at his watch, he realized four hours had passed since he began hacking the Basilisks’ computers, rifling through their banks statements, identifying their overseas accounts, and so on.
If you thought all that sounded really interesting, you’d be dead wrong. It was enough to put an observer into a coma. Case in point: Samantha.
“So what’s the deal, Ozzie?” Delilah asked as a girlie-sounding snore fluttered Samantha’s lips. Her arm was straight on the computer table, her cheek flat against the surface, her mouth slightly open. It wouldn’t be long before a puddle of drool formed. “Is this just another of your legion of conquests? Or is it something more?”
He wished there was a way it could be something more. He wished there was a way to make it so, as Jean-Luc Picard would say. But there were too many obstacles between them, too many secrets. Not to mention Samantha’s assertion earlier that she believed what they had was fun for now but not forever.
“Don’t worry, Dee. She has no designs on me for the long haul.”
“Good.” Delilah blew out a breath.
“Glad one of us is happy about that.”
“Ozzie—”