Down the Brink Read online

  Despite countless hours of counseling over the years, she’d never fully recovered from that trauma when she was a teenager. Who could, really? Having your parents murdered right there in your own home like that. Even after all this time, every so often she’d have horrendous nightmares, reliving the whole hideous thing like it was yesterday, waking up sweaty and panicked—especially when she was stressed. She probably couldn’t cope with those fears taunting her, all by herself in that house. Could he really blame her for needing someone close to help keep those demons at bay? What the hell did he expect?

  He rolled onto his other side, shielding his eyes from the harsh overhead light with a forearm. Maybe it was his imagination working overtime. Could have been a bug bite she’d scratched. Why did he have to think the worst?

  Because he had nothing better to do. Because he hated that he was trapped here, away from her for so long.

  No. He knew he was right. It wasn’t just the mark. There was something different about her, how she held herself. How she looked at him. He knew her well enough to know. She looked like she was hiding something.

  And he couldn’t do a goddamned thing about it except lie there and stew. If she came to see him again, no way could he bring it up in the little shred of time they had together. Not with a guard right outside the door, waiting to come in at any moment. And for all he knew, they bugged the visiting room. In fact, he was sure of it. Otherwise, they’d never have the guard leave them to think they were alone. Yeah, sure it was bugged. So he couldn’t even find out if he was right or wrong. Not until he got out of this godforsaken place.

  Two more months. Too goddamned long. Gil glanced around the sparsely furnished cell. If he had to, if he really had to, he could find a way. He might have to get creative, and it might not be the best way to do it.

  But if he had to, he could find a way to end his misery.

  He rolled onto his stomach, pressed his face into his threadbare pillow, and sobbed as quietly as he could. Everything he had and everything he lived for had been taken away, ruined. All for one stupid mistake, not even for a real crime.

  CHAPTER 30

  Fourth Thursday in September, 2021

  Los Lobos, California

  Zach waved goodbye to the few work buddies still lingering in the Modernistic and stepped out into the fresh air. Probably wasn’t the best move to miss last night’s celebration. Lot more chance he’d be missed. Could have planned that better, but on the other hand, he’d been anxious to get the deed over with so he could quit obsessing about it all the time, worrying whether he’d thought of everything. Besides, the timing was perfect in one very important way: doing it just ahead of a major release meant his module would have the maximum effect in the shortest time possible.

  To try to make up for skipping out on the celebration, he made sure to show up tonight like everything was normal, and even stay until Sammy and most of the others left. It seemed to work. At least, no one mentioned his absence last night.

  He patted his stomach as he walked to his car. As frequent as the bar sessions were, at least they were usually one-beer-and-out, not all-night swill-fests. Still, his belt was getting a little snugger than he liked from sitting all day at his job and then having a beer and wings most nights. A little exercise might not be a bad idea.

  One of the features his apartment complex boasted—undoubtedly reflected in the rent—was direct access to the new bike and walking trail that ran through town. Zach inhaled, savoring the crisp, early fall air. Nice evening to give it a try. It’d be light late enough, and the temperature was pleasant. Just right for a short run.

  Zach stood at the edge of the crushed-rock trail in a T-shirt and shorts, staring down at his shoes. Hiking shoes. Not the real heavy ones, but heavier than running shoes should be. Best he could do on the spur of the moment. He could always get actual running shoes if he got swept up in the running bug.

  He glanced up and down the tree-lined trail. Uphill to the left, flat to the right. Easy choice there. He took one more glance up the rise to make sure no hot-dog, skinny-tired road bike was bearing down on him, then started off.

  Zach trotted along at an easy pace, enjoying the scenery as he warmed up. Some of the trees had started to turn. A few yellow leaves had already fallen. Hard to believe he had the trail all to himself with such perfect weather. He picked up his pace a little, drawing deep breaths of the crisp air. It felt good to be outside for a change, instead of hunkered down at a computer at work or home.

  A squirrel darted out of the brush and across the path. Zach pulled up short, panting. It was almost as if the little bastard wanted to trip him. If nothing else, it knocked him out of the tranquil zone he’d been in. He checked his watch. A half hour already. The shadows had gotten noticeably longer, and if he didn’t turn around now, he’d lose the light by the time he got back.

  He bent over to tighten one of his shoelaces, then started heading back. The sun sank lower, casting its fading rays through the trees. A cool breeze chased the fallen leaves along the trail. Something about the whisper and rustle of those leaves in the dying light made Zach feel like the last man on earth. He shivered and kept running, suddenly wishing he were back in his apartment where he could shed the weird, vulnerable feeling that had come over him.

  Finally, he came up to the spot where he’d started. Though it wouldn’t be full-on dark for a while still, the shadows had deepened and spread, pooling beneath the thicker trees over that way. He’d better plan an earlier start next time. The days would only get shorter in the coming weeks.

  Zach slowed to a walk and turned onto the concrete walkway that led back to his complex. Something rustled in the bushes behind him. He swung around, startled. The breeze had died and he’d seen no one else on the trail. Maybe it was just another squirrel.

  The leaves lay motionless on the ground. Something seemed to shift in the shadows beneath a cedar tree. The adjoining shrubs rippled, then grew still. Whatever it was, it was no squirrel.

  Zach sprinted the rest of the way to his apartment, soles slapping on the concrete sidewalk. Maybe it was just a stray dog, or a cat. Maybe not. Maybe it was a crazy axe murderer. It’s not like there was a shortage of violent people on the streets, thanks to MoonPop.

  It was probably nothing at all but his imagination, but the idea of holing up in his locked apartment with all the lights on sounded far more attractive than walking around outside, exposed in the gathering dusk.

  He’d only been playing the spy for a few days, but Jess already longed to be back at his desk where he could take it easy on his hip, and the worst injury he could get was a paper cut. And where he could get some good reading in, instead of chasing after this Zach Winters. Maybe he should have pretended he hadn’t noticed him leaving late—probably wasn’t up to anything nefarious anyway. Then he wouldn’t be stuck here hiding in his car like some pervert.

  Fortunately, it’d been fairly easy to keep tabs on Winters so far. His typical days were pretty consistent: go to work, go to that bar near the office with everybody else, go home alone. And all pretty much at the same times every workday. No more late nights at the office.

  Tonight, Winters decided to change things up for some reason. Jess had been watching from his car, thinking his day’s work was about done and itching to get home to his reading. But instead of staying put for the night as usual, Winters exited the apartment complex and headed for the trail dressed like he was going for a walk or a run. Jess knew he’d stick out like a sore thumb if he tried to follow him. No good cover to be had.

  Once Winters turned onto the trail, the trees concealed him from Jess’s vantage point, forcing his hand. Groaning, he got out of his car, glanced around to make sure he was alone, then hobbled the short distance to the trail’s edge. He positioned himself next to a stand of trees and watched as Winters jogged around a curve and out of sight. No way could he keep up with him. And even if he could, he couldn’t risk Winters seeing him.

  And no way cou
ld he just stand there in the open and wait for him to come back. Someone might come along and think he was some sort of lurking sex fiend. Just what he needed. Plus, he didn’t know if Winters would circle back and come up on him from behind, or if he would just turn and double back right toward him.

  He sighed. No choice but to hide within the stand of trees next to the access point and wait. He crept into the shadows and leaned against a hefty old trunk to keep the weight off his right leg. And waited. And waited some more. He tucked his left arm behind his back. No point in looking at his watch again. The slow march of the minute hand only served to frustrate him. Spying in real life was nowhere near as suspenseful and fun as it was in the novels he loved.

  How long was Winters planning to run, anyway? The kid looked kind of scrawny. Geeky, not athletic. Jess shifted his stance. The better part of an hour had passed already. Now his hip throbbed, his feet ached, the thorns had gotten to him, and he was generally more than a little aggravated with the whole situation.

  At last, Winters trotted around the curve on the right. Jess perked up. If the kid just headed back over to his apartment, he could call it a night and go home for a hot shower to ease his aches. He crouched and waited, shifting from foot to foot.

  Winters picked up his pace, heading right toward Jess’s hiding spot. He stepped back, deeper into the trees and brush. If the kid realized someone was lurking in the bushes and watching him, he’d call the cops for sure. And that would create a nasty mess. He took one more step back. Another thorn caught him on the back of his hand. He stifled a curse and stumbled into another shrub.

  Winters broke into an all-out run. Jess watched as he disappeared into the main door of the apartment complex. Good. Stay in there. He stepped out of the bushes, brushed himself off, and retreated to the safety of his car before anyone else showed up.

  Goddamned thorns. Jess sucked blood from the back of his knuckle. They paid him well, but not well enough to get back into this kind of cloak-and-dagger shit. He was a few years older, a few pounds heavier than when he did this stuff before his prison guard gig. And now he had that bum hip.

  One more thing to do, then he was outta there for the night. He pulled out his cell and tapped out an email to Benetti.

  Winters took a run tonight on the trail by his complex. A little skittish. Nothing else out of the ordinary.

  Roy Benetti relaxed at his desk at home, sipping a little Maker’s on the rocks and savoring the latest financials. The preliminaries looked good. So good, it might turn into another record quarter. Quite the accomplishment for ad-free freeware that generated zero revenues on its own. But MoonPop’s cut of GSI’s profits more than covered operating expenses. There’d be enough for some nice bonuses this year if things stayed on track.

  Ding.

  Roy clicked his email, read Jess’s message, and scowled. Not much to go on. Maybe he was making too much of Winters staying late at the office that night. Or maybe not. He did come from GSI. And even though he claimed to leave for all the right reasons—career opportunities and the like—there could be something more going on. Maybe the kid had an axe to grind. He couldn’t take any chances on something like that. MoonPop’s business model depended on secrecy. If the press or anyone ever got wind of its relationship with GSI, it’d be the end. And it would be ugly.

  What had Winters been doing at the office that night when he missed the pre-launch celebration? Was he just being extra conscientious about his work, or was he snooping around?

  Either Winters was someone to worry about, or not. Time to dig a little deeper and find out for himself.

  CHAPTER 31

  First Monday in October, 2021

  Los Lobos, California

  Zach settled in at his desk and logged in after the most relaxing weekend he’d had since he started obsessing about the Payoff module. So relaxing, he’d even agreed to meet Sammy for a date later in the week. He took a deep, satisfied breath as his computer sprang to life and began rendering his desktop and startup apps.

  What a relief to finally solve the mystery and figure out how to short-circuit the Payoff module and screw GSI. Now he could keep his hands off it and stop thinking about it. Well, maybe. Be a good idea to keep watch for a drop in the violent crime rate. Then he’d know his code really worked.

  He stopped, fingers poised over the keyboard, his mouth suddenly dry.

  An IM from Roy Benetti himself, the dude most likely to have set up the whole Payoff module scheme. He wanted to see him as soon as he got in. No explanation, just the terse command. No one he knew had ever been called into Benetti’s office for any reason. Rumor had it he hardly ever even came in, that he worked mostly out of his fancy house in the suburbs.

  Zach patted himself down. Did he have anything on him he shouldn’t? No, his thumb drive was at home. His ID badge was in his pocket. His clothes were reasonably unwrinkled and presentable today. He glanced at the IM again to check which floor he should go to, then pushed himself out of his chair.

  Did he know—or even suspect—what he’d done to the Payoff module? Whatever it was about, it’d probably go a lot worse if he kept Benetti waiting.

  Zach took the elevator to the penthouse floor where all the executives had their lairs. The doors opened onto a spacious lobby. At its center stood a circular, white-granite reception station. A receptionist sat in the center, a widescreen monitor to one side and a wireless headset in her ear. She looked cool, robotic. Not likely to divulge a clue as to why he’d been called up here, even if she knew.

  The lobby was so huge—and he was so nervous—that just walking up to the reception desk felt like a major accomplishment. Zach felt his throat click when he swallowed.

  “May I help you?” asked the perfectly manicured robot-woman.

  “I’m here to see…well, he asked me to come. Mr. Benetti.”

  The receptionist glanced at her monitor, then back at him. “He’s expecting you. Last door on that side.” She tipped her head to her right.

  “Thanks.”

  Zach wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as he made his way down the long corridor to Benetti’s office. No one could possibly have figured out what he’d done—at least not this quickly. He thought he’d covered his tracks as well as technically possible. This had to be about something else. He hoped, anyway.

  He stood outside Benetti’s door. Might as well get it over with. Besides, the receptionist had undoubtedly alerted him that he was there. No sense in acting suspicious in any way. He wiped his palms once more and knocked.

  “Come in. Have a seat.”

  Zach opened the door and stepped inside an office far bigger than anything he’d ever seen. Benetti, a trim forty-something, awaited him behind a glass-and-chrome desk that gleamed like someone polished it daily. A sleek laptop and a wireless earpiece sat to one side. No paper cluttered the work surface. Arty posters depicting MoonPop scenes graced the tall walls.

  He lowered himself into one of the black leather sling-style guest chairs and waited for Benetti to make the first move. Better to let him start than risk giving something away. Benetti leaned back in his chair as if this were the most casual meeting ever and let an awkward silence fill the room until the pressure was nearly palpable.

  Zach cleared his throat. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes. You’ve been with us about three months now, time enough to get a feel for the place, for your job. I wanted to check in with you, see how things were going.”

  Maybe it was something Benetti did when you finished the probation period—though Sammy never mentioned anything about it. “Things are fine. I like it here.”

  “Is it the sort of work you expected?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you like your work?”

  “I do.”

  “Did you get sufficient training?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you able to keep up with your assignments?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about your colleagues?
Do you feel you fit in with them?”

  “Yeah, they’re great.”

  Benetti gazed off into the distance and steepled his hands. “You like your colleagues and enjoy your work, but you didn’t show up at the pre-launch celebration last week. Why not?”

  So that’s it. Someone’s feelings were hurt that I didn’t show up that night. “I…couldn’t make it.”

  Benetti drilled him with his eyes. “Why not?”

  “Because I…didn’t feel well that night. My stomach was bothering me. Figured I’d better just go straight home.”

  “So you were at home, taking care of your stomach.”

  “Yeah, taking care of my stomach.” Why was he pressing the point so hard?

  Benetti folded his arms across his chest, leaned back in his chair, and let the silence stretch out again. Zach’s mind raced. And then he remembered. That night he told Sammy he couldn’t make it because he had to check a few more test conditions. He hoped to God Benetti didn’t know he was really still at work that night. He shouldn’t have panicked. He should have just given him the same story he gave Sammy. Stupid. Benetti couldn’t have faulted him for taking a little extra care in his work.

  “Thank you for meeting with me today, Zach.” Benetti gave him a dismissive nod.

  “Thank you.” Zach choked out the words, nearly tripped getting out of his chair, and exited the room with as much dignity and fake calm as he could muster. Which wasn’t much.

  He closed the door behind him and tried to keep from hyperventilating. Nothing about that meeting felt right. Benetti was pressing for something, but what? Did he know more than he let on?

  CHAPTER 32

  First Monday in October, 2021

  Los Lobos, California

  Roy Benetti sat motionless, staring at the closed door, as he replayed the brief interview in his mind, drilling into every nuance of what Winters said and how he said it. The kid was hiding something, but what? His supervisor, Russ Simpson, had nothing but good things to say about him. He’d caught on to the work quickly, blended in well with his coworkers. Smart, solid worker. All the usual earmarks of a great hire.