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“What kind of violence?”
“Extreme violence. Murder.”
“Give me context. Do you mean hacking caused the loss of life?”
Maybe. The elevator fail could have been injurious, if not deadly, to Mackenzie. If Rowan’s pacemaker had been hacked, then yes. “In combination with physical attacks.”
“I’m no profiler, Alex. Are you working undercover? I thought you were taking time off.”
“I’m helping a friend who’s in trouble.”
“That makes sense. Trouble kind of follows you. I feel moderately better about our conversations now. Let me know what else I can do to help.”
“You can find out everything about Hanstech. What is the company doing that I can’t read about on their website? And a cybercriminal who went by the name Nebulous 2.0.”
“Dude. I just got goosebumps. Okay. I’m late to a meeting already, but I’ll do what I can.”
Ending the call, Alex stared at his cell, then set it in the seat next to him. Now he was dragging Keenan into Mackenzie’s private investigation, but he had no doubt that he would need help when the thirty-six hours were up.
Tomorrow.
Mackenzie might be the only person who could stop Nebulous 2.0 or find him, and quickly. He’d give her that chance. But he feared what the cybercriminal would try to do with drone technology. In the meantime, Alex would trust that Mackenzie was safe inside Hanstech. She had sworn off elevators for the foreseeable future.
Alex steered from the parking lot and drove down a side road next to the building to check out all the exits. A possible back entrance. A security vehicle coming from the opposite direction flashed its lights, and Alex stopped. The vehicle slowed next to him, and the security guard lowered his window. Alex did the same.
“This area is off-limits,” the guard said.
“I was just turning around.”
“Please just back up.”
“Okay.” The security guard’s reaction made Alex suspect there was a back entrance used for testing or delivering drones.
After leaving Hanstech, he headed to the Rocky Mountain Courage Memorial, a diversion he could use to keep him from obsessing over Mackenzie and constantly texting to check on her. She couldn’t focus with interference, and they didn’t have much time.
Keenan would find a few answers for him, and the county sheriff’s department was looking into the shooter and the break-in last night. Alex would step back from Mackenzie’s cybercriminal to get perspective—and focus instead on the vandal’s identity.
He parked at the trailhead and hiked up. At the memorial, two men wearing helmets and safety jackets worked to replace his father’s destroyed plaque, thanks to an anonymous donor, which he knew to be Terra’s grandfather.
He wouldn’t be alone. He hadn’t thought he would be the only one here, but the noise of the men working was too distracting. He moved off trail and headed up an incline into the woods, where he found a nice flat rock, perfect for sitting and watching the activity below. Who knew? Maybe he would get lucky and see a suspicious individual approach the memorial. A small woman who acted and moved like the vandal on the video. If she carried a sledgehammer, that would be even better. But that would also be too easy.
The day was breezy, wrapping the thick scent of evergreens, pine needles, and earthy loam around him. A gust whipped over him, bringing a chill that clawed under his jacket even though it was almost summer. If he hiked up the trail, he could see the snow still clinging to the top of Stone Wolf Mountain and the surrounding peaks.
After the busyness of living in the city and the chaos of his travels, the fresh mountain air and quiet of the forest soothed his nerves. Clink, clink, clink. At least the stone plaque hammering was distant and could melt into the background noise in his mind.
And he heard Mackenzie’s voice in his head. The sound of pain fracturing her words as she spoke of her father. Everyone makes mistakes, especially when they’re young. How could her mistake have cost her so much? She made it sound as if she’d been banished from her family—all so they could build the company.
In the end, what had any of it mattered? The wealthy and successful died the same as anyone else. Mackenzie had missed out on being with a family that had seemed to love her. Then again, she’d made her own choices too. College and career often dragged people away from home.
An insect buzzed, and he swatted it away. Why was he thinking about Mackenzie’s choices? He’d made plenty of his own mistakes.
Her screams in the night rocked through him again. His heart rate jumped at the memory, and he dragged in the wild forest scents with a deep breath. He recalled the feral look she’d given him after the dream, and a million emotions exploded in his chest.
He stood and shook off the craziness. Brushed off a few pine needles that had fallen from the trees onto his shoulders and jeans.
Twenty minutes, and only a couple of hikers had passed on the trail, but no one had stopped to look at the memorial. To many of the locals, the memorial had probably become invisible. Most people didn’t much care about those who’d given their lives for others in the years gone by.
But at least one person cared. Why had she taken a sledgehammer to the plaques?
