The muscles in Shaun’s neck tensed as he thought about Lexie’s shock at losing her folder. Hadn’t she been the more docile of the Reilly sisters? But now after less than an hour with her, it wouldn’t surprise him if she’d left the room the moment he was out of sight. It was bizarre that they’d ended up on the same ship bound for the same place, but even stranger was Lexie’s reaction to his question about her sister. He regretted not delving further into that immediately, but she’d reacted with such hostility that he’d let instinct take over and backed off.
Not exactly the mark of a superspy, allowing himself to be rattled by an attractive woman from his past. Did he find her attractive? Sure, in a platonic, purely aesthetic... Oh, who was he trying to convince, anyway? She’d been the cute little sister before, but now? She’d blossomed, all right. Lexie had gumption to be in the missing-persons business, too. They’d make a good team if he could manage to quell her hostility. Letting her in on the details of his assignment might do just that, but protecting his alias could get tricky. On a typical assignment, he needed to protect his identity at all costs, but she knew his full name and they shared a past—albeit through another person, but it might be enough for a mission-destroying slipup. Bringing her in the loop, even a little, could help protect them both. He’d discuss it with HQ on his next check-in.
Shaun rounded a corner and saw a bank of computer cubicles through a set of glass doors at the end of the hall. He paused and had decided to go back to get Lexie when a scruffy employee in a white uniform pushed open one of the doors and strode toward him, purpose in his step.
“Excuse me,” Shaun said, pasting a smile on his face. “Can you tell me what’s happening with—” The employee shook his head in silence and brushed past Shaun without making eye contact.
“Excuse me?” Shaun raised his voice, staring after the employee. He wanted to give the man the benefit of the doubt—the ongoing noise was extremely worrisome—but it was no excuse to be rude. The man disappeared around the corner without another word. Some people. Shaun figured he might as well take a look inside the computer area to make sure the internet access was working.
All the chairs and computers were lined up in a row inside little library cubicles with instructional sheets tacked above the monitors. No, Shaun noted, not all the chairs. The final chair in the row sat slightly askew. His intuition urged him toward it.
Shaun sat and shook the mouse to wake up the screen. A sudden coldness hit his core.
Whomever had previously used this computer left in a hurry, because up on the screen—logged in, and with a list of files in clear view—was Lexie’s cloud storage account. The coldness spread and chilled his spine as he noted another open tab. Lexie’s email. He checked her account details, changed her password and logged out.
It had to be the same person. Lexie’s attacker had been here minutes before. But what worried Shaun even more was that the attacker wasn’t here now. And Lexie was alone.
Shaun thought of the employee he’d passed in the hallway. The man might have seen who had used the computer. In fact, he might have been in such a hurry because he’d been held back by a recent guest. If Shaun moved now, maybe he could catch him and get a description.
Shaun leaped up from the computer and raced through the glass doors, slowing his pace only when he reached the next hallway. He looked both ways, seeing several other people in white employee uniforms engaged by other guests. None looked familiar. The employee couldn’t have gone too far, though. There were too many curious and worried passengers around to have made it far without being stopped to answer questions.
Excusing himself past groups of concerned faces, Shaun paced the corridors, scanning every hallway in both directions. The employee had vanished. After five minutes, Shaun had to admit he’d lost him. That made getting back to Lexie the next priority.
He’d have to tell her what he’d found, but maybe she’d be able to tell if the hacker had had time to read any of her documents. The room attendant had to come back eventually. Shaun would question him then, or find one of the security guys and learn whose responsibility it was to keep an eye on the computer room.
Shaun jogged down the stairs and hallways to get to Lexie’s room. He followed the pattern of knocks and, to his relief, she opened the door the moment he finished the final knock. She appeared unimpressed as her face tilted up expectantly, jaw set in defiance, a fire blazing in her eyes that was betrayed by the quiver in the corner of her delicate mouth. A knot formed in Shaun’s gut and he found himself suddenly conscious of how close she stood to him. He struggled to hold himself together, her vulnerability in the moment causing him to inexplicably yearn to hold her close and protect her from danger.
Lexie’s emotions bubbled near the surface, about to spill over. It thrilled him. Intrigued him. His head screamed at him to run, that this pull toward her was ridiculous, but his feet remained firmly planted to the ground. What would she do if he pulled her into his arms and promised everything would be all right?
Lexie seemed to sense a shift in the air between them and stepped back. “You found something?”
He swallowed—cool it, buddy—and glanced both directions down the hall. “Yes, but you’d better come with me.”
To his surprise, Lexie didn’t hesitate. She stepped out of the room and locked it, no questions asked. She must have noticed his shock, because she raised one eyebrow and tilted her head. “What? You wanted me to try trusting you.”
Warmth returned to his center, easing the cold that had come with learning someone had accessed her private files—but following that came the regret that he couldn’t yet be honest about why he’d boarded the ferry. In his book, omission of information was as harmful as a lie. Would knowing the truth break her fragile trust? God, give me strength.
She followed him in silence to the computer room, where he led her to the last terminal. He brought up the webpage to log into her email with the new password he’d given her, then pulled out a chair so she could sit down.
Lexie stared in disbelief as her inbox loaded. “What...what’s this? How’d you get into my email?” She looked up at him with accusation, but he shook his head and reached across, clicking open the other tab.
“I didn’t, Lexie. But I have a good idea who did.”
She sputtered half words, eyes glued to the screen. “Someone hacked my account? But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would anyone want to read my messages?”
“Check if anything is missing. Whatever you had in that folder gave someone enough information to hack your email and your online storage account. They want to know what you know.”
She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. “I’ve been meaning to change my passwords to something more secure. I’ve been using my dog’s name. Easy to guess with a quick search on social media. Maybe we should call the police, have them meet us at the dock. They could dust this terminal for fingerprints or clues or something.”
“I’d already touched it,” Shaun said. “And do you really want to make this area an active crime scene? We’d have to cordon the room off and guests will ask questions. There’s no way of being sure some kid or joker wouldn’t tamper with the area, and I have a feeling security doesn’t have enough manpower to post a guard outside.”
Lexie scanned the contents of her accounts as Shaun paced the floor. Had someone been looking for additional, specific information? The more he thought about it, the more he grew certain that the same young woman Lexie was looking for had to be tied to the organization he hunted.
“Have we stopped moving?”
Shaun snapped out of his thoughts. Lexie jumped from her seat and jogged toward the doors at the same time as a blue-uniformed employee came toward them down the hallway. Shaun couldn’t make out his face due to