Chapter 7
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Sammy stared at him, open mouthed, and then looked at the item on the floor. “What the hell was that?” she asked. “And why did you break it?”
“It’s a listening device,” he said. She gasped. “So, you did have an intruder. There was no dust on it, and it looked like something that potentially had been relatively easily installed. The question is why?”
She frowned, then shook her head. “The only reason why would be the fact that I was seen at the hospital with you.”
He considered that for a long moment, his gaze narrowing as if wondering about the merit of her assumption, then pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Anderson.”
As soon as the call connected, he provided the update, and she heard Anderson’s surprised shock on the other end. She herself wasn’t even sure what to think.
She walked over to the side of her bed and collapsed on the edge.
She looked around her room, feeling a horrible sense of violation.
She had felt something earlier but hadn’t recognized what it was.
Now she had a name for it. Now she felt the reality that somebody had invaded her space, and she just didn’t know why. She felt utterly violated.
She looked over at him. “Why would somebody do that?” she asked, her voice fading.
“Because they think you know something,” he shared. She winced. “Or”—he shook his head—“and I know you’ll absolutely love this one, they assume that we have a relationship, and there might be … pillow talk.”
She felt the heat rising up her cheeks as she stared at him, her hand over her mouth. Then she shuddered. “Talk about a sense of violation,” she murmured.
“Exactly, and that is something that will be hard to let go of very easily.”
She looked around her bedroom. “Do you—” She didn’t even know what to say.
“Go on. Spit it out,” he urged her, as he walked over and sat down on the bed beside her. Wrapping an arm around her, he tugged her up close. “You’re allowed to be upset. You’re allowed to not know what to think. The question is, what will we do from here?”
“Yeah, that’s a good question,” she muttered, relaxing against his chest. “Presumably they now know that I found the bug.”
“No, not necessarily.”
“Why?”
“They’ll know that it’s not working, but they won’t necessarily know why.” Then he hesitated. “If there was one,” he began, with a nod, “there could be more elsewhere.” She shivered at the thought. He nodded. “Obviously I’ll search, but we could use some better equipment.”
“This is fairly sophisticated to bug my bedroom,” she noted, staring at him.
“I get that, but then so is murder.”
She blinked. “Murder?”
“Or at least attempted murder,” he pointed out. “Look at Talia.”
She nodded slowly. “I hadn’t really considered that,” she murmured, “but I guess if they’re willing to do what they did to her …”
“Exactly,” he muttered.
She shivered as she looked around. “Now I really don’t feel safe.”
“Right, and I’m not sure what to do about that either right now,” he admitted, pondering it. “I don’t want you here alone.”
“Yeah, that’s nice, but you can’t stay here because you’re needed with the babies.”
He sighed. “I know. I have to take that into account too.” He scrubbed at his face. A few minutes later, Anderson phoned again.
She heard the conversation as Burton held put his phone on Speaker and held it up for the two of them.
“Levi’s sending some improved security equipment for Leland to inspect both houses,” Anderson shared, “and I’ll have Pamela’s house checked too. Plus Talia’s hospital room.”
“Oh, good thinking,” Burton replied. “At the moment, we’re not sure what to do about Sammy because I surely don’t want her here all alone. Any suggestions?”
“Yeah, we have spare rooms here. Get her to pack a bag for a few days, and both of you come back over here.”
She wanted to protest, but Burton held up a hand, still listening to Anderson on the phone.
Anderson continued. “I know it won’t be as quiet and possibly never peaceful because of the babies, but she’ll be as safe as we can make her here.”
She stared at Burton in surprise and then shrugged, reality settling in. “Thank you. That’s more than I was expecting.”
Anderson, his voice gentle, stated, “This is happening because you’re helping us. So we’ll do anything we can to ensure this doesn’t get any worse.”
She didn’t even want to think about what worse could mean. The implications were already so horrific that it sounded incredibly ugly. Since he had taken that call, Sammy had been sitting here pretty zombie-like.
He ended the call and motioned around the room. “Can you grab a bag and start packing so we can leave?”
She bolted to her feet and immediately grabbed her travel suitcase. “I need my uniforms,” she muttered. “I have to go to work.”
And he immediately started helping her. It took them about twenty minutes, and then she just stood there, looking around the room. “Anything else?” he asked.
“No. … I haven’t really spent much time outfitting this place or getting nice things—mostly because I’m so busy.
Plus, I was a student before that and never had much money.
I always promised myself new furniture, but I never quite got there,” she muttered.
“As I’m looking around now, a part of me wants to take nothing.
I don’t want anything with the memory of them inside my home,” she shared, half staring at him, realizing she sounded a little out of control.
He immediately pulled her into his arms.
That sense of security when being held, even if just for a moment, was overwhelming, and she allowed herself to collapse against him. When she finally lifted her head, she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and whispered, “It’s not fair.”
“No,” he replied, his tone gentle. “It’s not fair. And it’s part of the propaganda of fear. It’s why it works so effectively because now you end up looking behind you all the time, and that’s not what you want, but it is something that they’re happy to have you do.”
“I didn’t do anything to them.”
He nodded. “Neither did Talia.”
She closed her eyes at that reminder. “Well, that’s a good way to look at it.”
“No, it’s a really sucky, nasty way to look at it,” he declared, “but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s the reality of what we’re up against.”
She groaned. “They really thought that maybe you would be passing out major secrets in bed or something?” she asked, staring at him in disbelief. “How is that even a thing?”
He chuckled. “It’s quite often a thing—but not my thing. Then again they don’t know that.”
“It’s not my thing either,” she muttered as she glanced around the room. “So, do I leave everything else just like that?”
“Yes, you do. At least for the moment,” he clarified, “and, when we are clear of this, we can get you back in here.”
“What if I don’t want to come back here?” she asked, eyeing the place. “It just feels—” She frowned as she searched for the right word. “It doesn’t feel …” Yet she couldn’t come up with anything.
“Safe,” Burton suggested, watching her closely. “It doesn’t feel safe anymore.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly it. It doesn’t feel safe anymore. It doesn’t feel like mine. It feels like it’s somebody else’s.”
“And, if that’s the case, when this is over, we’ll find you another place to live where you do feel safe again.”
She gave a harsh, resolute headshake, then said, “I’m not sure that’s possible now.”
“It’s possible,” he stated. “You will find life after this. Just like Talia will too, and we’ll help.”
She gave a broken laugh, turned determinedly, picked up her bag, and announced, “Let’s go.”
Burton led the way, with her following in her car, back to Talia’s house, where they were all camped out, and he realized it was a good thing Talia had a big house.
It worked out for them so well in this crazy situation. Apparently, she always wanted a large family. Although he didn’t think that she expected to get three babies all at once, but he was sure she would have been happy to have them regardless.
As he walked Sammy to the front door, Anderson showed up, a gentle smile on his face, as he whispered to her, “I’m so sorry.” Then he hugged her. “This is not what we want for you.”
She nodded and wiped back the tears. “No, it’s not what I want either,” she agreed, “and now they’re just pissing me off.”
“Good,” he stated. “Better to be pissed than to be a victim. Being angry is always better. It’s not that you can think clearer, but it will release the shackles of that victimhood, so your brain functions better. Otherwise you freeze like prey, and they have the upper hand.”
“How is it that you people even know things like that?” she asked, staring at him.
“Unfortunately,” he replied, even with a kind smile still on his face, “we know it because it’s the world that we live and work in.”
“I’m so sorry for you.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I’m also sorry that something like this is necessary,” he added, giving a dry laugh. “We do what we can to keep people safe. In order to do that, we also must understand the methodologies of what bad people are doing in this world in order to combat it.”
“And you can’t keep ahead of it, not always.”
“No,” he confirmed, with a chuckle. “Cybercrime is one of the biggest headaches to stay ahead of, and not a whole lot we can do about that. We just do our best and keep going.”
“But you’re not in cybercrimes,” she noted, giving Burton a sideways look.
“Nope,” he conceded. “It would be easier to find a job after this if I were.”
“Well, you could always retrain,” she said jokingly.
“I’ve considered it,” Burton shared. “I’ve taken several courses on it. I’m just not anywhere near as proficient as a lot of the people out there are.”
“I imagine it’s something that you have to stick with it pretty intently.”
“It is.” He nodded. “Up until now, we were happy doing what we were doing, so we weren’t really looking at future options.”
“How about now?” she quipped, with a wry look. “Any thoughts about future options at present?”
He chuckled. “Maybe. Not exactly sure what that’ll look like though.”
“Right, and I shouldn’t be pushing you. I’m the one who just finished college and got a couple years of experience under my belt,” she shared. “I wouldn’t want to be changing that anytime soon.”
“Exactly, and no reason for you to even contemplate that,” he pointed out. “We won’t let these guys ruin your life to the extent that retraining is necessary.”
She sighed. “Glad to hear that, … but it seems fairly difficult already, just thinking of all of us under this roof.”
“Our apologies ahead of time if the babies wake you,” Burton added, his tone low and soft. “We’ll do what we can so you can get to work on time, but it’s a bit of a challenge some nights.”
She smiled. “That’s not the issue for me.
It will likely be more about the nightmares as to what’s going on in my home when I’m not there.
Plus, now, no matter where I live, I’ll need a higher level of security.
At least then, if somebody comes into my house, I’ll know about it.
I had never really considered that would be necessary,” she admitted. “Not exactly a comforting thought.”
“No, it isn’t, but we will get to the bottom of it,” Anderson declared, as he looked over at Burton. “Take her up to the spare room at the back corner, will you? She’ll probably feel a whole lot better if she has a window out to the backyard, which is pretty peaceful.”
Burton nodded. “The master bedroom. Good idea.” He motioned to her as he picked up her suitcase. “Come on. Bedtime calls.”
She frowned at him in astonishment. “No way I’ll sleep now.”
He stared at her, one eyebrow raised. “Okay then. Tea? Scrabble? What’s your pleasure?”
She shook her head. “I have no idea,” she muttered, as she scrubbed her face.
“Maybe just a hot shower, then bed?” Anderson suggested. “Maybe a cup of nice, sleepy tea and a hot shower to try and wash all this away.”
“I don’t know,” she muttered, staring at him. “All of it is just a little too much to wrap my head around.”
“In that case, just put it out of your mind and keep on going,” Anderson said, with a smile. “Tomorrow it won’t seem like it’s quite so bad.”