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Knowing that a piece of cardboard would protect Olivia’s door and Mickey Pauley was in the wind, Nutsbe wished he could extend an invitation to use his guest room. Having just met her that morning, Nutsbe didn’t think Olivia would accept an invitation to sleep at a stranger’s house. He didn’t want to push her away by being too forward. And she certainly had the wherewithal and the savvy to pack a bag and go to a hotel until she fixed the window and could have an alarm system installed.
After dropping Nutsbe off at his house, she’d rounded the block, pulled into her garage, and gone in. And he hadn’t heard her leave again.
When the rain stopped around twenty-three hundred hours, Nutsbe heard the now familiar rumble of motorcycle engines—two of them. They carried on for over an hour before the rain sent them home again.
Then, it was just the flash of floodlights that blinked him continuously awake.
Nutsbe had used the robotic system to adjust his security lights and cameras to take in Olivia’s backyard. He set the sensitivity to high and quickly learned that on the other side of his fence, an ecosystem of nocturnal animals trounced across her yard.
It reminded him of the case where he had monitored a client’s home, and the team thought dogs were setting the system off. Adjusting the lights to form an animal corridor so the flashing lights didn’t wake that client or the neighborhood had proven to be a near-fatal mistake, allowing the bad guy to belly-crawl into place. Boots on the ground and a sick sense in Nutsbe’s stomach saved her life.
What Iniquus needed was an AI system that could read the heat signatures and only flip the lights on when the intruder was the size of a human. He’d talk to the tech department and see if they had something like that in the works.
After the first time the floodlights flashed, Nutsbe swiveled around to quickly manipulate the clasp that anchored his prostheses, then leaped to the window to scan. After that, Nutsbe flung his sheets and blankets to the side and went to bed wearing his prosthetic legs, ready to jump into action.
The thought “if someone is coming for her …” clenched his stomach and made something low and vicious hum under his skin. He thought back to the postures of the Cerberus tactical dogs, waiting for the appropriate set of circumstances to fly through the air and sink their teeth. They longed for it. The only thing holding them in place was painstaking training. Yeah, that intensity in the eyes, that bunching of the muscles—that was him.
Nutsbe had always been arm’s length from violence. He dropped the bombs from fifteen hundred feet. He managed the missions from the TOC. He fought on the mats where he could tap out.
Last night was the first time he’d faced a real-world fight. Like the tactical K9s, he had kept his cool, thought strategically, and done the right thing regarding force application. He was proud of the way that had all gone down.
But maybe he was like a dog, too. That first taste of blood might have awakened his animal instincts. He wanted the fight. More precisely, he wanted the fight that would protect Olivia. And in this instance, Nutsbe knew the best weapon wasn’t his fighting skills or something he could snatch up and wield. Nutsbe’s weapon of choice? A strategic mind and access to one of the best information systems in the world.
Now that it was morning, Nutsbe dressed in sweats and went for his morning jog, waving to Henrietta, who sat in her usual place in the window.
No sign of Olivia.
Home again, showered and dressed in gym gear, he headed into his home office, where he fired up his computer. He had an hour before he needed to get on the road.
After a quick look into the court records, Nutsbe found the outstanding warrant for Pauley’s arrest for last night’s incident. Check that box.
Mickey Pauley was indeed a cop—surprise, surprise, he worked for the D.C.P.D., so just over the Virginia border, where he held a security clearance and was a sharpshooter when they needed extra eyes on the roofs when foreign dignitaries were visiting.
It looked like Pauley had turned down promotions, stating he liked being out with the public. Nutsbe guessed that, with Olivia’s salary, if Pauley liked doing patrol, there was no reason for him to push himself up the ladder. Nutsbe knew cops who liked being right down in it with the community. He also knew cops who liked the physicality of knocking the suspects off their feet.
Yeah, there were a lot of streetfighter moves to Pauley’s attack last night.
And here was a long list of complaints for brutality—all dismissed. No mention of Olivia’s being involved with his career or working to clear his name from the accusations.
Olivia said she was almost free.
He liked her. More than liked her, Nutsbe couldn’t stop thinking about her—a first for him.
Nutsbe just wished they’d known each other a little longer and a little better so he could be a bigger presence in her life between now and that divorce court date without feeling like he was muscling his way into her situation.
Nutsbe’s phone pinged with a text.
Covington: They tried to serve Pauley last night at his house. He wasn’t there. The server waited at the police station. Pauley didn’t show up for his graveyard shift. Keep your head up.
Ping.
Covington: Spoke with Special Agent Kennedy early this a.m. about your arrest. Also made him aware of your name in court records. My office is working on getting you wiped from the police system. Given the circumstances and your clearance level, we should be able to get this done today.
Ping.
Covington: Our AI systems are scanning social media and mainstream media. Since Pauley’s paperwork includes the address of the incident along with your name, this could put a bullseye on your house. You’ll be kept apprised so you can act accordingly.
Nutsbe: Appreciated.
