Pulling strings, p.18
Pulling Strings, page 18
Don’t go! Lucy responded.
Devon panicked for a second and then pressed the button for the sixth floor just in time. The doors slid open, and he got off in the lobby of the investment firm above them.
Where are you? came from Lucy almost immediately.
Sixth floor.
“May I help you?” the receptionist behind a glowingly warm wooden desk asked.
“I think I pressed the wrong button on the elevator. I was told to go to the seventh floor.”
She shook her head. “Someone is playing a joke on you. That floor is being renovated for a new tenant.” She leaned closer. “We hear them banging all the time up there, and I’ll be glad when they’re done.”
“Thank you,” he said, and pressed the call button to go down, messaging Lucy that he was okay.
I’ll meet you in the men’s room on your floor.
With his heart pounding, he checked that the car was empty before getting into the elevator, riding back to his own floor, and going right to the restroom, which was thankfully empty. He still had his sandwich, which he set on the side of one of the sinks before washing his hands for something to do. A guy stepped in wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a baseball cap. It wasn’t until he took a second look that he recognized Lucy.
She checked all the stalls. “Powers would never do that,” she said as soon as she knew they were alone. “Something has happened—I can feel it. What’s on that floor?”
“I got off just in time, and I found out it’s being renovated.”
She groaned. “Something is very wrong. Powers would never try to get you to an empty floor.”
Devon knew that. “He’s been taken.” His heart told him. “And whoever has him has his phone.” Devon’s hand shook, and he knocked his sandwich onto the floor, but he barely noticed it. “What do we do?”
“Let me think. I don’t think they know I’m in the building. It isn’t going to take them long to figure out that you aren’t coming. Then they’re going to get more desperate because things are going to unravel for them fast… unfortunately for Powers as well.” She sighed. “I’m going up there to try to find him. You go back to your desk and act like nothing is happening. If I don’t—”
“No. I’m going with you,” Devon told her. “I can answer and say that I got delayed, but that I’m on my way now. They won’t suspect that I know. There are stairs right over there. You go up that way.” His heart raced, but Powers would risk himself for him, and Devon wasn’t going to let him down. No way in hell.
“Devon, that’s not a good idea…,” Lucy said, but he leaned closer, hands on his hips, glaring at her.
“I’m not letting someone I love get hung out to dry like that.” He pulled out his phone and sent “Powers” the message that he’d be there in a few minutes.
Good. I need to talk to you. It’s important.
Devon showed the message to Lucy.
“Give me a minute and then you go on up. I need a head start.” She left the bathroom, and Devon threw away his lunch and followed a few seconds behind her, counting in his head as he went to the elevators. He delayed pressing the call button until someone else approached and then pressed to go up, hoping he’d given her enough time.
It was all he could do to stop himself from pushing the button for another floor to chicken out, but he pressed the button for seven and waited as the elevator rose. His throat went dry, and he wondered what was going to greet him when those doors opened. His imagination conjured up plenty, and he stood to the side of the car as the doors slid to the side to near complete quiet. He held the Door Open button and stayed still, waiting for God knew what. He half expected a hail of gunfire, like in the movies. Though if that were the case, then he was the stupidest man alive.
“Get hold of yourself,” Devon whispered, and peered around out in the partially empty floor. To the left was a cavernous space that had been cleared of everything, including most of the interior walls, and to the right were areas that he assumed hadn’t been cleared yet.
“Powers,” he called, remembering he was supposed to meet him. “Where are you?”
“Back here,” Powers called somewhat weakly. “I need your help.”
A scuffle followed, and Devon stilled, listening as quiet resumed. He headed in the direction of the voice and paused outside an office door. “Powers?” Devon called tentatively. He didn’t get an answer, so he turned the doorknob to open it. The office was dusty, with the carpet tiles piled in the center, but otherwise it was empty.
“Devon,” he heard again from another room, and he closed the door, peering around for Lucy but not seeing any sign of her. He continued on toward the sound and opened the office door at the far wall.
Powers sat in a chair, tied and gagged.
Someone pulled Devon inside, pushing him to the floor. He splayed on the carpet and didn’t move for a few seconds, groaning.
“Oh, come on. I didn’t hurt you that badly. What are you, the biggest wimp on earth?”
Devon knew that voice as well as anyone, though the sneer was new: James Abramson. Devon should have figured it out. James rarely looked anyone in the eye, and now that Devon thought about it, he seemed to have insinuated himself into just about anything to do with this case and him over the past week.
Devon groaned and held his left arm, slowly getting to his feet, cradling it to keep it from moving. “Why?” he asked as he slowly moved to stand where James directed him with the gun in his hand. “You were valued and have been here for years.”
“That’s just it. Twenty years and I get a single promotion, while Mauer makes millions. I don’t think so,” James snapped.
“So you got Mark to help you,” Devon said as he moved his left arm and groaned.
“I got plenty of people to help me. It was easy. A little money, a few minutes to figure out what they wanted, and it was a piece of cake.” His eyes darkened and he leaned forward a little, but Devon noticed the way his left hand shook next to his body, the only outward sign of nervousness. “It took me a while to get that envelope back.”
Devon made a face like he was in pain. “Can I sit down?”
“Sure.” Abramson smiled and nodded. “Wouldn’t want the Golden Boy hurt or anything.”
Devon carefully sat down, still cradling his arm, while James began pacing a little. He must have thought Devon wasn’t any kind of threat, because he turned away a few times, and that gave Devon a chance to use his “hurt” arm to start working open the knot that held Powers’s hands, though he was careful to hold his arm when James turned back to him.
“Why did you put the envelope in my bag?” Devon asked, curious about how all this had started.
“Stupid… stupid… stupid…,” James chanted. “Someone was coming, and I slipped the damn thing into your bag because I didn’t want anyone asking questions. Everything else was perfect, and then all I needed to do was get the damn thing back.” He took a step nearer, the gun glistening in the light from the outside windows. “It was supposed to be easy. All you needed to do was let the damned kid have the bag, but you held on. You were damned lucky I was able to retrieve it, and I thought that was the end. I could continue with my plan, but you and your damned friend here wouldn’t give up.”
Devon shook as he looked down the barrel of the gun. Powers grew angry, rocking the chair he was tied to.
“Don’t you dare move,” James said as he pressed the gun to Powers’s head.
“Don’t, please…,” Devon said quietly.
James turned to Devon, keeping the gun right against Powers’s temple. “Do you have a thing for him?” James leered.
Devon didn’t answer, but he suspected it was difficult for him to keep his feeling out of his expression.
“You do. Well, isn’t that special? Let me guess, you should be sending me Christmas cards for bringing the two of you together, not that either of you is going to live that long.”
Devon held his breath, not daring to move, and then James pulled the gun back and returned to his pacing. That gave Devon a chance to work at the knotted duct tape. He got it loose and was able to get a tear into it. Devon hoped it was enough so Powers would be able to break it free. “It’s going to be okay,” Devon told Powers to try to reassure him.
“No, it isn’t… not for you anyway. I just have to figure out how I’m going to get both of you out of here.”
Devon didn’t intend to offer any suggestions. At least James seemed nearly as nervous and jittery as Devon did.
“True,” Devon said. “Judy is going to wonder where I am, as is Mr. Mauer.” Devon glanced to Powers, who nodded slowly. “I told others where I was going.” His phone vibrated, and Devon groaned, holding his arm, and James grabbed it out of his pants, tossed it on the floor, and stomped it to pieces.
“This was supposed to be so easy, and no one was going to get hurt,” James said to himself. In Devon’s mind, James was falling apart before his eyes, and Devon’s fear rose by the second because as James’s agitation increased, Devon believed his ability to behave rationally would diminish.
“You haven’t done anything that you can’t step away from,” Devon explained in his best nonthreatening voice. “Nothing really bad has happened. You can let us go. The system is safe and….”
“No. Everything has fallen apart,” James spat. “You don’t understand, and it doesn’t matter. I can’t go back, not now. Everything was in place… it should have been easy, and then you got involved and the entire plan was shot to hell.” James whirled around, pointing the gun at Devon. “It’s all your fault. This would have been quick, and no one would have been the wiser if it hadn’t been for you. I’d have the information I needed and the system programs. All traces of the theft would be gone, and no one would know until a competitor showed up on the market, and by then I’d have been long gone.” The barrel of the gun shook, and Devon was scared to death that it was going to go off on its own.
A bang outside the door made James jump, and Devon glanced at Powers, hoping it was Lucy. He wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but Devon kept his head about him as best he could, even if his arms and legs wanted to shake like leaves and though he was dangerously close to wetting himself.
“Get up and open the door,” James told Devon, waving the gun. “Don’t try anything, and you can tell me what you see.”
Devon got up, holding his arm as he slowly, and without any sudden movements, turned the knob and opened the door. James stood right next to him, using the wall as cover. Devon didn’t see anyone, and he shrugged as James came up behind him, the gun pressing cold and hard against his back. A length of pipe lay on the floor about ten feet from the door, near the edge of a scarred table, still rocking back and forth slightly. “It must have rolled off the table,” Devon whispered, and held still.
James humphed and turned him back inside the office.
A flash of movement sailed toward James as soon as he turned. Devon caught it out of the corner of his eye, and he bit his lower lip to keep from saying anything as he let his legs go limp and fell to the ground. Powers got his hands free and ripped the tape off his legs, then leaped through the air.
A shot rang out, nearly deafening Devon. He felt no pain, and rolled over quickly, grabbing James’s legs and yanking them out from under him. He went down hard, falling across Devon’s chest. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and Devon knew he was a sitting duck, unable to move if James still had the gun. Devon closed his eyes, waiting, expecting a shot of pain at any second, but nothing happened even as the weight lifted off him.
“Devon, are you okay? Devon!” Powers called.
He opened his eyes, and Powers swept him into his arms.
“Tell me you’re okay….” He held Devon tight, and Devon managed to nod as he pulled air into his lungs.
“I’m okay,” he was able to say, and Powers hugged him tighter, rocking slightly. “Are you? Is Lucy?”
“We’re okay. The shot missed and went into the wall, thank God.” Powers gasped. “It’s okay. Everything is okay now.”
“No, it’s not. Are you going to help me with him, or do I have to do everything myself?” Lucy chided.
Devon got to his feet while Powers helped her secure James, and then they started making phone calls—lots of calls.
Devon gave statements for what seemed like hours. Mr. Mauer guided all of them down to his office, where they answered more questions, and after speaking with James, were able to determine that the key information on the banking system was still secure. Just about everything else was a blur.
“Was James acting alone?” Mr. Mauer asked, and Devon shrugged.
“He seemed to be,” Powers answered. “He talked a lot and was clearly agitated, but as far as the attempted data theft went, he seemed to be acting on his own. He did have people he got to do things for him.” Powers didn’t go into details, though Devon suspected he would need to at some point. “He was a real conniving man, but not as smart as he thought he was.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Devon said quietly, still in a bit of a daze. They had only caught him because James had taken their bait.
Powers nodded but didn’t say anything more on that topic. “I think, in the end, fear got the better of him. His plans didn’t go the way he expected, and a few mistakes allowed us a slight trail. We had trouble identifying him, but we put roadblocks in his path that he wasn’t able to surmount. A lot of the credit for that goes to Devon.”
“I only helped. It was Powers and his sister who really got the job done,” Devon said as Mr. Mauer settled in his desk chair.
“It doesn’t really matter. I’m grateful to both of you.” He leaned back some, the first time Devon had seen the man even slightly relaxed. “Very grateful.” Mr. Mauer’s phone rang, and he answered quickly, spoke briefly, and then hung up. “James is in custody, and charges against him are pending. He isn’t going to be darkening any of our doorsteps again any time soon.” He smiled briefly. “Thank you both again.”
It was a dismissal, and Devon was more than grateful to be leaving the office. “What do I do now?” he asked, not realizing he’d spoken out loud.
“Let’s go home,” Powers answered, and Devon nodded absently.
Lucy met them in the lobby of the building, and Powers drove them all back to his house. Devon had expected to be taken to his apartment, but then, he had things at Powers’s place he needed to pick up.
Inside, Lucy disappeared into her room almost immediately after exchanging looks with Powers that Devon didn’t understand. “Yes, I’m fine, Alexander” drifted down the stairs just before the door closed, cutting off further sound. Devon couldn’t help smiling for a second.
He figured he might as well get things over with—pull off the Band-Aid fast.
“I’ll just go and get my things and get out of your hair. I’m sure you have other cases that need your attention, and you don’t need me hanging around.” He turned, following where Lucy had gone and down to Powers’s room. He left the door open and gathered his things. It only took a few moments, and as he stepped out of the room, he nearly smacked into a pissed-off Powers. There was no mistaking that stance for a second.
“Is this what you want?” Powers asked, then sighed. “I’ll take you home and make sure you’re safe. The threat should be over, and you can go back to your life.” He turned away, and Devon followed him down the stairs.
“I…,” Devon stammered in response to Powers, looking to where he stood with his arms over his chest. Devon inhaled and sighed, holding his clothes in his arms, his throat dry, afraid to say what he felt in case Powers rejected him. He shook his head and groaned, wishing he could wipe his face with his hand. He’d stared down a gun today and helped rescue Powers from James. Maybe it was time to grow a pair. “What is it you want, Powers?”
“Oh fuck,” Lucy groaned. She must have come down while he was upstairs, because she stood near the door, probably getting ready to go see Alexander.
Both of them turned to her at the same time, and Powers started to laugh. He rolled his eyes and then shook his head. “Thanks,” he said to Lucy, who looked about ready to smack him but left instead.
“What was that about?” Devon asked, his belly doing little flips. “Some twin thing, I bet.”
“Yeah. She was telling me I was being an ass.” Powers stepped closer, dropping his arms, his stance less aggressive. “I want you to stay. I love you, Devon. When I saw you on the floor, I thought you’d been shot, and I was frantic. You worked your way into my heart, and I almost didn’t realize it.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Hell, you saved my life. And so help me, if you ever do anything like that again, I swear I’ll….” He stammered and shook enough that Devon wondered what was wrong. “You scared me half to death. I hoped you’d see past the texts he was sending and stay away, but then you came in and my heart dropped through the floor. As he tied me up, all I kept thinking was how you were safe, and then there you were in the room with me.” Powers’s hand quivered. “And playing injured was brilliant. He didn’t see you as a threat until it was too late.” He placed his hand over his chest. “Seriously, though, don’t do that again—I don’t think I can take it.”
Devon gasped, and the clothes he’d been holding tumbled to the floor. Powers had told him that he loved him, and the first man to do so was the one he’d wanted to hear those words from the most.
Powers closed the distance between then, holding him tightly.
“I love you too. I’m sorry—I think I told Lucy before I told you.” Devon closed his eyes. “I think it was the only reason she didn’t hog-tie me and rescue you herself. I couldn’t let him hurt you—I don’t know what would have happened to me if I did.” That was a lie. Devon knew he would have wanted to die himself. “I don’t think I could have lived with myself.”
“But what about your quiet life?”
Devon shook his head. “I think I left that behind as soon as you barreled into my apartment. And good riddance.” He grinned. “What I want is excitement, action, and adventure… at least some of the time.” Devon rested his head on Powers’s chest. “And I want you, with everything that goes with it.”
