In the Shadow of Greed Book 1

  In the Shadow of Greed

  Shadows and Light Book 1

  Nancy C. Weeks

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  A Note from the Author

  Excerpt From In the Shadow of Evil

  Books by Nancy C. Weeks

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright Page

  This book is dedicated to my amazing family. We have laughed together, cried together, and supported each other through thick and thin. You make my life richer every day by just being in it.

  One

  March

  Noran Defense Systems, Annapolis Junction, Maryland

  * * *

  This is agony―self-inflicted agony.

  Dr. Sarah Tu sat at her terminal and combed through the project’s test results one more time, trying not to yank her hair out. Something was off with the test, but she just couldn’t see it.

  She leaned back in her chair and scanned her computer lab. Her team was out celebrating and, with their absence, gone was the constant noise, panic-charged energy, and chaos. There was almost an eerie, pin-drop silence left behind. The only sound came from the constant hum of cooling fans behind each row of servers.

  Sarah took a moment and closed her tired eyes. Between the flickering overhead lighting and the glare of her computer monitor, all that registered was a dance of white spots. She rubbed the strain from her temples, shook off the exhaustion, and focused her attention on the screen.

  The new computer virus propagated across the test environment’s virtual network. In the test, the command-and-control servers of the Qualnto botnet were being infected much faster than the live results seemed to suggest.

  “Why aren’t the tests the same?” she muttered to herself.

  An alarm from her cell phone filled the silent room. She glanced at her wristwatch and cringed.

  Shit. I need just a few more minutes.

  She refocused her attention on the computer monitor. “It’s not replicating fast enough.” She raked both hands over her face. “But is that the fault of the test environment―or did we mess up?”

  “You didn’t mess up, Dr. Tu. You’re just being your obsessive self,” Henry Morcross, the CEO of Noran, said from the doorway.

  Sarah rolled away from the terminal and faced the lab’s entrance. She had been so engrossed she missed the whoosh of her lab door open. “Hi, Henry,” she said, trying to smile, but failing. How could she muster a smile when all she wanted to do was hit something?

  “Sarah, what are you doing back here? Your team is working their way through my liquor cabinet.” He raised his cell phone. “And your sister is tearing up my phone with texts.”

  Heat spread to Sarah’s cheeks. “Sorry, Hanna shouldn’t be bothering you.”

  “Hanna and I made a pact.”

  “Oh, good grief,” she moaned, her arms crossing her waist. “What kind of pact?”

  “We’ve decided that since you seem incapable of having a little fun, we would force fun on you.”

  “I know how to have fun.” She lifted her hands and scanned the abandoned lab. “This is fun.”

  He strolled further into the room and studied the lines of code on her laptop. “You’re as bad as the mother who follows her kindergartner’s bus to school. You worked months on this project. It’s amazing, brilliant even. All you have to do is step away and let it do its job.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. Get the hell out of this lab. Celebrate with your team or, better yet, with your sister on the warm sands of Myrtle Beach and drink yourself silly.”

  “I just need fifteen minutes to go over the specs again and I’m out of here.”

  “Fine. Cross your Ts, but I made your sister a promise. Don’t make me break it.”

  This time Sarah did smile. Henry Morcross was her best friend, the greatest mentor anyone could ask for. He had Sean Connery’s physique and Ernest Borgnine’s smile, the perfect grandfather figure, and she adored him.

  He moved toward the door and turned. “Sarah, your life is not here. And please, don’t keep Hanna waiting for too long. I hate what that does to you.”

  “Fifteen minutes, twenty tops.”

  I’m going to kill her.

  Hanna Tu wiped a nonexistent stain from the kitchen table with a damp towel, glancing at the wall clock for the tenth time in five minutes. The luggage, pillows, and grocery bags filled with various calorie-laden snacks littered the floor of the small foyer. Three angry blasts from a car horn followed by two more honks resounded in the apartment. Hanna peered through the kitchen window. The parking lot a story below was bathed in vibrant rays of red, orange, and yellow sunlight streaking across the evening sky. She and her friends could have been sitting at an outdoor patio table by now, overlooking the ocean and gorging themselves on fabulous, greasy buffalo wings and margaritas.

  When another long, piercing blast from the car horn filled the apartment less than a minute later, Hanna faced her best friend and roommate, Calista Martin. “They will not stop. You need to just leave.”

  Calista dropped the beach towel onto the sofa and stormed into the small kitchen, yanking the dish rag out from Hanna’s hand. “This trip was your idea. Please come with us. It won’t be any fun without you.”

  “I won’t leave without Sarah.” As angry as she was at her sister, Hanna would never deliberately hurt her. They weren’t just sisters but best friends, each the other’s lifeline.

  Calista took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her eyes narrowing on the clock over the oven. “We rescheduled this trip for her. She should have been here an hour ago, and she’s ignoring your calls. She has buried herself in another one of her projects, so just leave her and come with us.”

  “No. Sarah promised me she would be here.” Hanna shut the dishwasher door hard enough the dishes rattled. “When she makes a promise, she never breaks it.”

  Hanna ran her hands through her waist-length black hair, yanked a band off her wrist and pulled it all into an untidy ponytail. It was hard to keep her mind from spiraling into dangerous territory.

  What if something happened? She never remembers to charge her damn cell phone.

  Panic reared its ugly head.

  “You’re not your sister’s keeper. I hate how she ignores you; how she thinks everything she’s involved in is more important than you. She’s just like your dad.”

  “She’s nothing like our father. You’re pissed. I get that. But you know Sarah,” Hanna said, and eased her back against the counter. This conversation dug deeper each time they had it. “She’s not self-centered, she’s focused. She may tune out the world when she’s in her lab and lose track of time, but that’s devotion. If I leave without her, it will crush her. Go. We’ll catch up before you can sip your first mimosa at breakfast. She’s likely on her way and hasn’t called because her phone is dead.”

  Calista flung her heavy backpack over her shoulder, retrieved the p
ile of towels and grocery bags. “You have the address to my aunt’s condo?”

  Hanna nodded.

  “You better show up.”

  Calista gave her a tight hug and left the apartment.

  Hanna couldn’t turn away from the window as her three friends helped Calista pack the trunk. As they drove out of the parking lot, her chest grew tight and her eyes filled with tears. She lifted a hand to wipe away the moisture and a pungent smell of Aramis cologne hit her nostrils. Tiny needle pricks covered her skin, and a shiver crept up her spine. She froze.

  Everything in her urged her to unlock the door and run, but she turned and came face to face with a man she barely recognized. He stood inches from her. Before she could let out a scream, he shoved her up against the door, her body slamming hard on the metal frame. He jammed his arm over her throat and pressed a damp, sickeningly sweet-smelling cloth over her face. The smell made her gag. Out of pure instinct, she held her breath.

  An icy chill stabbed through her body as her heartbeat raced. She couldn’t breathe. But her struggle only made his chokehold tighter and her attacker mad. He released his hold just long enough to hurl her body into the wall, her head striking hard.

  An intense pain shot through the back of her head, followed by overwhelming nausea. Before she could catch her breath, he grabbed the front of her blouse and dragged her toward the living room. She stumbled to her knees.

  She gasped for a breath as she tried to form the word why. He wrenched her against him and yelled into her face. She could see his lips move, but the words made no sense. His eyes went cold, burning into hers as his nostrils flared. Each word he spit out at her was angrier than the last, but the drumming of her heartbeat drowned out all sound, all reason. Nothing got through. As she slipped into a vortex of pain and darkness, she prayed one last prayer. Please, God, keep Sarah safe.

  Hanna awoke to the sound of a car door slamming and the sharp click of heels darting across the pavement and up a flight of stairs.

  Sarah. She’s here.

  Hanna’s thoughts swirled like black clouds, images bleeding one into another until all comprehension was lost.

  Her head rested on a soft pillow, and cool sheets caressed her back and legs. She shifted and scanned her surroundings. A piercing, sharp pain shot from the front to the back of her head. She whimpered, but it came out like gurgling.

  Shit. Another migraine.

  She hadn’t had one in months. The blackness swept in from the corners. It comforted her and eased the pain to a dull ache. She attempted to move, but her limbs didn’t respond. Her body was completely numb. It felt like every muscle, every nerve was shot full of Novocain. But her sense of hearing was strong and clear. She was hearing not only her own heartbeat but also Sarah’s, and it raced.

  How am I feeling two heartbeats?

  Hanna struggled to open her eyes, but the movement charged another sharp pain to shoot through her head.

  My God, what’s wrong with me?

  When the pain eased, a crystal-clear image of Sarah flashed before her. Her sister stood on the last step of the breezeway before the second floor of Hanna’s apartment complex. She glanced out over the parking lot.

  Every thought that passed through Sarah’s head streamed through Hanna’s mind. What Sarah felt—the guilt and disappointment in herself―were there for Hanna to feel. She tried to shake her sister’s voice from her head, but the excruciating pain returned, easing only when she stopped struggling.

  Sarah searched for Hanna’s car. It sat in its assigned slot. A moment of calm settled over her until she couldn’t find Calista’s CR-V.

  “She left with Calista.” Sarah’s voice quivered inside Hanna’s head. “I let her down, again.”

  I’m here, Sarah.

  New images of exactly how Sarah spent the last several hours flooded Hanna’s mind. Her sister didn’t carelessly hide herself in her lab. What kept her away was far more important than a week at the beach.

  Hanna couldn’t control the visions swirling through her mind, vivid, real, as if they played out on a live screen. I don’t want this.

  But her wish went unanswered as she watched Sarah dart around the collection of empty clay pots by the door. She lifted her hand and knocked. The sound vibrated through Hanna’s head. Sarah waited a few moments and knocked again.

  “Please open the door, Hanna. I’m so sorry I’m late.”

  When Sarah dug through her purse and pulled out her spare key, Hanna struggled against her invisible bonds. Sarah couldn’t come into her apartment. She had to stop her.

  “Come on, Hanna. I’m here now. Please open the door. I cleared my whole week. Henry told the guards at the gate not to allow me anywhere near Noran until next Monday. Just open the door and let me make this up to you.”

  No, Sarah. Run!

  Horrifying images of the last few hours crashed through her memory. The man… where was he? Was he still here?

  Excruciating pain ripped through every cell and she screamed out. Blessed darkness swept through her mind, but she had to protect Sarah.

  Sarah slid the key in the slot, turned the lock, and opened the door.

  “Well, now you’re being petty, little sister. You chained me out?”

  Sarah slammed her shoulder against the door.

  A sympathetic pain shot up Hanna’s arm.

  Run!

  Then the smell hit both sisters at once. A coppery metallic stench wafted through the crack in the door. The overpowering scent of vomit and urine followed.

  Sarah’s heart drummed in her chest, the scream she forced from her lips never sounded. Instead, she frantically yanked at the door, then banged her shoulder against it, fighting the simple security chain. She stuck her face in the gap as much as the chain would allow. Dark red spots littered the tile of the foyer.

  Don’t look, Sarah. Shut the door.

  Sarah followed the blood up the wall to the cracked sheetrock. Terror clamped hold of Sarah’s heart, consuming Hanna. Sarah’s body trembled while her own body remained numb.

  Her sister slammed her shoulder against the door repeatedly. Each time her shoulder hit, intense pain shot through Hanna, but the chain held. Sarah alternated kicking and banging the door with her fist until Sarah’s vision blurred and she clasped against the door, screaming Hanna’s name.

  Sarah, shut down. Do it, now!

  Wishing she could wash the vision from her mind, Hanna lay paralyzed, powerless, as Sarah, stepping away from the door, squeezed her eyes tight and took a deep cleansing breath, easing the strain of Sarah’s jaw.

  Good. That’s it.

  Her sister’s breathing grew shallow, her heart slowed, and she detached herself completely. Hanna had seen Sarah shut down before, but she’d never felt it.

  The emptiness, no, the void of emotion, unbearable.

  Sarah reached into the side pocket of her purse and retrieved her cell phone. In an expressionless voice, she gave the 911 operator Hanna’s address requesting police and ambulance assistance.

  As she completed the call, the walls around Sarah’s emotions cracked and a flood of despair crashed down on both, smothering them.

  Hanna focused her last ounce of energy on her sister. I’m here.

  The plea hit a barrier. Sarah?

  As her sister dropped against the door, dread sliced through her body, and she slid onto the concrete walkway.

  “What have I done? I should have been here. It’s my job to keep you safe. Oh God, please let her be okay.”

  Sirens blared.

  This wasn’t your fault. Do you hear me, Sarah? Blackness spread through Hanna’s mind, again easing her pain, and sent her back into the void.

  The trauma center at Doctor’s Hospital was a concert of controlled chaos, and for the time being, it all centered on his victim, Hanna Tu. Doctors, nurses, and lab techs scurried in and out of the first cubicle with one goal in mind, to stop the bleeding and keep her alive.

  The pillar in the middle of the trauma u
nit was a perfect support for Jason McNeil’s six-foot-three-inch frame while he kept an eye on the orderly mayhem. With a coffee cup balanced against his palm, he used his thumb to text an update to his oldest brother, Jared, the lead detective in charge of the violent crime unit of the Maryland State Police.

  Jason couldn’t take his eyes off the petite woman lying motionless in the hospital bed. Tension and noise levels were high as one command after another flew from the doctors to the nurses to the orderlies. A nurse frantically swabbed the blood from one of several gashes on Hanna Tu’s arm that continued to ooze. The gauze sucked up the blood like a sponge. When the pad was soaked through, she grabbed another from the stainless-steel tray and repeated the process. With each breath Jason took, the pungent scent of antiseptic, blood, and other ominous odors assaulted his nostrils.

  He lifted his cup and gulped down the lukewarm, bitter brew. The coffee churned in the pit of his stomach. The woman’s face was the only area on her body untouched. What drove someone to do something so horrific to another human being? Such brutality rocked Jason’s faith to its core.

  His body ached for some sort of action, a long hard run or a grueling weight-lifting session. Strenuous activity was one trick he used to keep the restlessness at bay. But something else held him in that spot. He studied everyone who came anywhere near Hanna Tu, his protective instinct on high alert. She could identify a serial killer, the only victim the monster left alive. The guilt from not stopping the bastard before he attacked again would live with him a long time.