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Lucy sat at the table, unsure of how she felt about Kate’s news. Relieved that strangers weren’t involved. Angry that Morton had the freedom to exploit women and children. And a hint of fear at one word: partner. Kate pulled out a chair and sat across from her. “Lucy, I will not let your name out. If there is anything in those files related to you, I will take care of it.”
Lucy knew exactly what she meant. For years, Lucy had known—though her family never talked about it—that Kate had been sending viruses to computer servers that hosted a digital copy of Lucy’s attack. She had a program running that could find and identify the file based on size, name, or date and when she verified that it came originally from Trask, she uploaded the virus. Though the virus destroyed only that specific file, it was highly illegal and would get Kate fired and likely prosecuted. No one had given Lucy any details, and if questioned, Lucy couldn’t truthfully answer that she knew what Kate was doing.
It wasn’t the risk to Kate that had Lucy tense; it was the sudden realization that this would never end. That her rape could come back any time, not just in her thoughts and nightmares but publicly, on the Internet. That each time it did, she became more desensitized to her own pain and suffering. As if that girl wasn’t her, she hadn’t lived through it. Her emotions were already suppressed in nearly everything she did. Kate had long ago told her it was compartmentalization, something that most cops did when confronted with a tragedy or a case that was emotionally disturbing. Child murder, a grossly violent crime, any number of things that were difficult to process without losing control. And Lucy had done the same thing by being able to detach herself from her kidnapping and attack.
But the lack of emotion had transcended into other aspects of Lucy’s life. She emotionally distanced herself from relationships, from friendships, and even from her family much of the time. The biggest problem with her relationship with Cody was that she didn’t feel anything. She enjoyed spending time with him, she liked him, but she didn’t feel anything inside, love or pleasure or commitment. It was as if she were a puppet acting and reacting the way she thought she was supposed to, but watching herself from the outside, a director, not able to truly live free and enjoy life.
“Lucy?” Kate reached out, her hand inches from Lucy’s but not touching.
“I want to help,” she said. “I can go through the files with you. I know how it works, I can—”
Kate was shaking her head. “No.”
“Dammit, stop trying to protect me!”
“It’s not my call. My assignment is limited to Morton’s computer and digital files. Noah Armstrong is the lead agent on this case and I’m not going to make waves, because he’ll pull me and then I’ll have no inside information. And you’re not an agent yet, Lucy. I refuse to jeopardize your chances.”
“I don’t care,” Lucy said, knowing it wasn’t true. She did care about being accepted into the FBI. “Some things are more important.”
Kate smiled. “Lucy, you’re good with computer data tracking—really good—but I’m still better.”
Kate was trying to lighten the conversation.
“I feel helpless.”
“You are the least helpless person I know. Other than me,” Kate said.
Lucy sighed. “I understand. But please, Kate, promise me one thing. This is important.” She wanted Kate to know how absolutely serious she was.
“If I can, I will.”
“Don’t try to protect me anymore. I want to know everything you learn about Morton’s operation. Unless it’s directly related to national security and you’ll be tried for treason if you breathe a word of it, I want to know. Especially if it’s about me.”
Lucy saw the conflict in Kate’s eyes.
“I’m a big girl, Kate. I’ve faced much worse up close and personal. Bad news is not going to break me. Do not keep shielding me from the truth because in the long run, it will hurt both of us.”
After Kate left, Lucy set the security alarm and went up to her room to check her messages. Specifically, any messages for “Tanya.” She still didn’t understand why Brad Prenter hadn’t shown.
There were none.
She pulled up all her chat transcripts with him and reviewed them again. What if she’d inadvertently sounded like a cop? She didn’t have a badge, she wasn’t a cop—local or federal—but because of her extensive training with Fran she had the mentality of a cop.
Nothing that she read, even critically, made her sound like anyone but who she pretended to be.
Maybe he had a family emergency out of town, and why would he bother to cancel a date with a girl he’d met online?
She was overreacting to everything. It was this crap with Morton.
She showered, then went downstairs to make something to eat. She didn’t feel hungry, but she had a headache that felt like a hunger headache.
She surveyed the contents of the refrigerator, then the pantry. Nothing looked appetizing. She picked up a banana from the counter and had just taken a bite when her cell phone rang.
It was Cody.
“Hi,” she said, quickly swallowing.
“Fran told me she talked to you about Prenter.”
