I parked on the street in front of the sleek black building and nondescript logo of the MarxMen offices. The windows were black and I couldn’t see anything inside, but I strode up to the door and yanked it open. A cool blast from the AC hit me and caused me to shiver. My hair was still partially wet, and I didn’t even want to know what the bird’s nest looked like in a mirror or how long it would take me to brush through.
I stopped in the middle of the lobby as Kiernan turned around and grinned. “Usually it’s me stalking you, Dr. Conroy. What are you doing here?”
7
Kiernan
I strode to the lobby of MarxMen after ending the call with Maddox. He’d sent someone from the police station who wanted to hire a tracer. He often sent us work. His job had limits in ways mine didn’t. I’d considered joining the police force after finishing my military service, but I’d had enough of red tape and following the rules, so when Roman opened MarxMen, I didn’t even hesitate.
Plus it’s always fun to annoy the shit out of him.
I tapped my knuckles on the gleaming black surface of the front desk in the lobby. Trent swiveled the desk chair to face me and grabbed a notepad and pen, preparing to take notes. He’d only been at MarxMen for a month and wanted to train to work in the field. He was young, baby-faced, and didn’t have a lick of experience doing anything. The men and women who worked in the field as operatives didn’t all start at the front desk and work their way up; it depended on past experience and how much training they needed before they were assigned cases. Many started assisting higher-ranking operatives before moving on to lead cases in their specialties.
MarxMen had it all. Anything from providing bodyguards to private citizens or a baseball organization, to setting up state-of-the art custom security on properties, to private investigation and tracing online culprits.
“Put the pen away,” I said. Trent still sat at the ready, but he arched a brow. I shook my head. “I’m just waiting for someone Maddox sent over.”
“Would you like me to get the new client paperwork prepared?”
“Nope. I need to see what this is about before we accept this person as a client. Maddox didn’t give much information. This is just an informal meeting.”
“Would you like a small conference room with refreshments prepared?” Trent asked, setting down the notepad and pen. This kid was the best front office person we’d ever had.
“Sure. That’d be helpful.”
He popped up and scrambled toward one of the conference rooms just off the lobby. Anything our clients came in for happened in the front of the building. The back was only for operatives. It had our private offices, conference rooms we used for cases, and an entire training facility, complete with a shooting range.
The front door swung open, and bright sunlight filled the doorway, casting the person into a silhouette. I grinned when the door closed behind her and Dr. Conroy stood there glancing around the room. Her hair was damp, frizzy, and wavy. There wasn’t an ounce of makeup on her face, and the curves I knew she had were hidden under a T-shirt and sweatpants. It was a stark contrast to how I’d seen her before this, but she was still enticing.
I hadn’t been able to put my finger on where I knew her from, but if I’d slept with her, I’d definitely remember exploring those curves.
I grinned. “Usually it’s me stalking you, Dr. Conroy. What are you doing here?”
“Ki—Kiernan,” she stammered. With a furrowed brow and wringing hands, she stepped forward. I pushed off the counter and stood, watching her approach me. While she’d been nervous around me before, this was different. She was frazzled and seemingly fraying at the ends. “You work here?”
I nodded. “Did Maddox send you? He didn’t give me a name in his quick rundown. What’s going on?”
“Is there someone else I can talk to?”
I gritted my teeth. I fucking hated that she was uncomfortable around me, and I didn’t even know why or what I did. “Yes, but Maddox said it has to do with someone hacking into your computer. I’m the best in the office at tracing, but if it would make you feel better, I will go get someone else.”
She licked her lips and glanced around the office as she tried to run a hand through her hair, but her fingers got stuck in the tangles. She grimaced.
“The conference room is set up, Kiernan,” Trent said, coming back to the front. Dr. Conroy hadn’t heard him approach, and she jumped when she heard his voice, placing a calming hand over her chest. I nodded.
“Dr. Conroy, let me show you to the conference room, and I’ll grab someone else.”
I didn’t want to assign anyone else to this. If she was having trouble, I wanted to solve it and help her. I wanted to wipe that look of worry off her face and replace it with the annoyance and begrudging amusement I usually saw shining in her eyes. She followed me to the conference room, and I ushered her inside, turning to find someone else on the team to speak with her. “Wait,” she said. “If you really are the best, then I want you.”
I turned back toward her. “Are you sure?”
She nodded and sat, placing a bag on the table, and wrapped her arms around her middle. I sat in the chair across from her. “Would you like something to drink or eat?”
“Water, if you have it.” I unscrewed the cap on a bottle of cool water and handed it across the table to her. She took a small sip and closed the top, setting it on the surface in front of her.
“What’s going on?”
“I was getting out of the shower earlier when my laptop pinged. When I looked at the screen, it was filling with pictures of me. Filling like when someone has a virus and pop-ups take up every inch? That’s what was happening, but all pictures of me.” Her voice shook and color filled her cheeks as she took a deep breath before continuing. “Pictures of me getting out of the shower, changing. N-naked.” She looked down at the table, tracing her finger along the edge.
“Do you remember seeing a light next to your camera on your laptop?”
She shook her head. “I don’t remember seeing it, but to be honest, I don’t know if I would’ve noticed that it was on. I started panicking and then a message popped up.”
“A message?” I asked. Unfortunately, it was becoming more common for hackers to hack into cameras on laptops and phones to watch people. And the smarter they got, they harder they became to trace. if they were good at what they did, they could do it undetected, disabling the light that indicated the camera was on.
“Yes. It-it looked like what coders use when they’re writing code. At least that’s how it always is on television. I don’t actually know anyone that writes code,” she rambled. “It was a small black screen and green writing.”
I knew what she was talking about, and she was right. When hackers or coders were depicted on screen, it was always with a screen like that. “What did the message say?”
Her hand shook as she wrapped it around her delicate neck and smoothed it over her skin. “You’re so beautiful. If you don’t do what I want, these go on the internet.” Her chin wobbled, but not a single tear fell.