Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
“What do you mean everyone’s been arrested except you?” Sarah plopped down on the edge of the sofa as the room spun around her.
A few months into their marriage, it had become clear that the term “settling down” didn’t describe life with Ryan. Instead, Sarah felt like each day started by spinning a huge wheel marked with prizes to see what it would land on next. Yesterday’s gift had taken the form of him setting fire to the shower curtain while running her a candlelit bath. Today, all his friends were in jail. She wasn’t sure she could cope with what tomorrow might bring.
“Don’t worry, Stats.” Ryan sounded as laid-back as ever. “We’re dealing with it.”
Sarah glanced around at the calming pastels of her living room. It didn’t help. “Who is we, and how are you dealing with it?”
She’d been relieved when Ryan gave up his dangerous job in security. Even more relieved when it became obvious how much he loved writing. For one brief moment, she’d envisioned a future where they were safe and secure, cozy in their little family, far away from danger. What she hadn’t taken into consideration was that even though Ryan was officially out of Benson Security, everyone he knew was still in it. And danger seemed to follow them around, like the cloud of dust that followed Pig-Pen in Peanuts .
“Well,” Ryan said, “so far, it’s me and Isobel. We’re heading to Julia’s house to see if she has any ideas about what to do next.”
Sarah eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Um, maybe calling a lawyer would be a good idea?”
“Rachel already did that.”
At least Rachel had some sense. She took a deep, calming breath. “I don’t understand what else you could do. Isn’t it up to the lawyers now?”
“Sure, but we can help. According to Rachel’s latest text, this whole thing is about a grudge some guy holds over Lake beating him into the SAS. If that’s the case, I figure he doesn’t have a whole lot of solid evidence to support his accusations. Which means all we need to do is find his weak spot and take him down before he takes us down.” Ryan’s tone was matter-of-fact.
Sarah swallowed hard. “You want to take down the police?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He sounded almost cheery at the thought.
This was the difference between her and everyone at Benson Security. They ran toward a crisis, while she ran from it. In her book, the police were the ones you called when trouble struck, not the ones you waged a war against.
“Anyway,” Ryan said. “Can you meet us at Julia’s? We need all hands on deck for this.”
“You want me to meet you?” Had he lost his mind? “Ryan, think about this; what use will I be? I don’t have any security experience. I’m an actuary. If you want to know the risk percentage of something, you call me. You don’t bring me in when the police are out to get you.”
“Stats,” he said in that low voice that melted her insides, “I need you. Will you come?”
How could she say no to that? “Fine, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks. I love you, you know that, right?”
Stupid pregnancy hormones had her blinking back tears. “I love you too, Ryan. Be careful, okay?”
“Will do.” He hung up, leaving her holding the phone and feeling somewhat bewildered.
For a moment, Sarah stared at the mint green wall opposite her, trying to think of a way she could help. There was no denying she was as far from Benson Security material as it was possible to get. Everything in her life was carefully considered, researched, and tested before she committed. Well, except for Ryan. She thought she’d been sensible there, taking time to get to know him before agreeing to a first date, but her well-thought-out plans had gone to hell around him. He brought out the rebel in her, tapping straight into the wild streak she’d spent her whole life trying to bury.
With a sigh, she stood and patted her belly. “Your parents are going to end up in jail,” she told their unborn daughter. “But don’t worry. Sixty percent of all incarcerated mothers get to keep their babies with them for the first couple of years. I don’t expect I’ll be locked up much longer than that, so we’ll just have to do the time together.”
With that, she went to get ready, wondering what one wore for a long day of anarchy.
Her decision to spend some time alone in the Benson Security panic room had not been one of Katrina Raast’s best. At the time, it’d seemed the better option. As the basement room filled with the predominately male employees that made up Benson Security, the testosterone and masculinity had become overwhelming. So she took a moment to regroup.
That moment had started two hours ago, and she was still in the panic room.
“You’re a genius, Kat,” she muttered as she watched the police move around the building on the monitors fixed to the wall. “You spent almost a year trying to escape a small, windowless room, and now you’ve trapped yourself inside another one. Way to go.”
Her hands trembled as the memories surfaced, but she wouldn’t let them overtake her. She refused to hide from her past. From the torture and abuse she’d suffered at the hands of an evil man who bought her from a human trafficker. No, she held her head high, knowing that she’d survived while he was dead. None of the shame of her experience belonged to her. None of it. So she refused to let it determine who she was now.
That didn’t mean the nightmares and flashbacks had disappeared. Even now, years later, her brain was still healing from the trauma. And that was okay. It was natural. It didn’t make her weak. Unfortunately, it didn’t make her any smarter either. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have thought hiding in a panic room to get some alone time was such a hot idea.
She rolled her eyes at herself as she paced in front of the monitors.
To be fair, the room wasn’t as tiny as the one she’d been held in years earlier. This room was big enough for a decent-sized dining table, a kitchen area, and two sets of bunk beds—not to mention the compact bathroom off the kitchen. She had plenty of food and drink, Wi-Fi, and phone access. What she didn’t have was a way out of the building without the cops noticing her.
On one of the screens, a police officer spoke. “This is stupid,” she said as she rifled through Callum’s desk. “What security boss would write down his passwords and leave them lying around for people to find?”
Katrina groaned and hoped that Callum had changed his habits since she’d called the top floor of the building home. Back then, Elle had fought with him daily about keeping his passwords secure. She’d even had a T-shirt printed that said, “My password is not password,” as a dig at him. Because, yeah, he’d done that.
“Doesn’t matter how dumb this is,” the male officer with her replied. “You heard the commander; he wants access to their server, which means we need a password.”
Katrina stilled, her mind racing as she stared at the screens. “Would be bad if they got into the server,” she muttered.
Their clients trusted Benson Security to keep their information safe. Not to mention all the confidential staff files stored on there.
She glanced at her phone, wishing there was someone she could ring, but only Rachel had been allowed to keep her phone. And they’d taken her away for questioning too.
Then it hit her—Julia!
She dialed her number and breathed a sigh of relief when Julia answered.
“Katrina? Where are you?” She sounded worried. “I spoke with our lawyer, and you weren’t on the list of people they’ve detained.”
She sank onto one of the dining chairs. “Funny story,” she said dryly. “I’m stuck in the office panic room while the police search our building.”
“Oh my,” Julia said.
“Tell me about it.” Katrina rubbed her temple as she kept an eye on the monitors. “Got any idea how I can get out of here? Preferably without being arrested.”
“No,” Julia said. “But I’m making a note that we need an alternative exit from that room. This is the second time someone’s been stuck in it while the building’s invaded. Of course, it was most of the team last time, so at least we had company.” She paused. “Are you okay?”
Katrina glanced around at the pale blue walls and noted with satisfaction that they weren’t closing in on her. “I’m okay. Just stuck and uncertain what to do to help.”
“Ryan, Isobel, and Sarah are on their way here,” Julia said. “Once they arrive, we’ll give you a call. Hopefully, by then, someone will have some ideas.”
Katrina winced when she spotted someone making a mess in Julia’s office. She made a mental note to ensure the place was back in order before the office manager returned to work. Julia didn’t deal well with chaos.
“I’ll keep monitoring the situation from in here,” she said. “If anything comes up that you need to know, I’ll call you.”
They said their goodbyes and hung up.
The two cops searching for passwords in Callum’s office were talking again.
“Maybe there’s something in the house at the back of the property,” the woman said. “I’ve heard the boss and his family live there. We should check it for passwords too.”
“Fairly sure somebody’s already doing that,” the guy said. “But it won’t hurt to give them a hand.”
As they strode from the office, Katrina crossed to the bank of monitors. She pulled out the keyboard under them and brought up the menu, hoping to find that Callum’s house had been wired for surveillance too. She found a file marked Callum and clicked on it. A single text message filled the screen: Don’t even bloody think about spying on me again, Elle.
Guess that was a no to cameras, then.
With a sigh, Katrina hunted through the kitchen for a snack. She found some popcorn, microwaved it, and returned to watching the cops dismantle the office above her. All the while feeling completely helpless.
Something she’d sworn she’d never feel again.
Frowning at the screens, she ate and plotted. There had to be something she could do to help. Anything! The popcorn tasted like cardboard slathered with synthetic butter, but she ate her way through it as she thought, confident that an idea would come to her soon.