Then he noticed the red-tipped cane in her hand, and saw that she wasnt looking directly at him with those pale, pretty eyes.
A second major shock hammered through him.
Gabriella Solaro was blind.
LET HER GO, Ty. Gabby knotted her hands together, hoping he wouldnt notice how badly they shook. She couldnt see the sceneher vision was limited to light and dark smudges on the brightest of daysbut over the years shed gotten good at interpreting sights from sounds.
Shed never before had to connect the sound of a weapon to a friends panicked scream, though, and the reality of it made her sick and dizzy with fear.
This was her fault. Her fault for trying to be someone she wasnt, for thinking she was protected by Internet anonymity, for letting curiosity overrule common sense, for going against everything shed told him up to this point and agreeing to meet. It was her fault for wimping out and asking Maria to take her place at the last minute. And most of all, it was her fault for being wooed by words on the Braille pinpad shed designed to translate images from the computer screen to letters she could see.
Hadnt her friends in the neighborhood warned her about the hazards of online dating? He could be anybody, theyd said. He could be a complete jerk. A user. A criminal.
Gabby had brushed them off, figuring she was an expert in dealing with the first two options, and refusing to entertain the third. I know Ty, shed said, certain theyd made a connection during their late-night conversations. Hes not like that.
But shed still refused to take the relationship any further than on-screenuntil tonight, when shed been feeling a little bit reckless, a little bit wild. As usual, the impulses had gotten her into trouble.
Deep trouble.
Heart pounding in her ears, she raised her voice and nearly shouted, Thats right, Im Gabby.
She was hoping against hope that someone in one of the nearby houses would hear and come help, one of the neighbors she sometimes found overwhelming with their extended Italian-American families and endless dinners, fights and celebrations. But they had ignored curfew and trooped down Hanover Street en masse, banding together to get old Mrs. Rosetti into one of the overflowing hospitals when her oxygen tank ran low and her breathing had gotten bad.
The houses were empty. There was nobody left to hear the tremble in Gabbys voice, or the drum of her heart in her ears. Please, she said quietly, desperately. Let her go. Ill do whatever you want.
The offer made her nauseous, but it came from the lessons shed learned as a teen, when shed run the streets of Miami with a hard-partying, hard-fighting crowd. Shed fought to outgrow that rebellious, self-destructive streak in the years since, but she needed some of the brashness now, some of that brazen go-to-hell confidence.
She had to get Maria away from him first. Then shed try to talk him down. She couldnt believe the Ty shed come to know
Dont you get it, Gabby? He isnt that Ty. Hes She couldnt even complete the thought. She didnt know what he was, or who. All she knew was that shed brought him into her neighborhood, into her haven. Into her heart.
How shed agonized over his last few messages, debating how much to tell him, what to tell him. In the end shed broken up with him rather than admit the truth, that she was blind and rarely left the safe, secure confines of her home territory.
Then hed caught her in a weak moment with his invitation, and the wild child had taken over and pushed the self-destruct button once again.
Tell me about Liam Shea, he ordered now, voice low and commanding.
Let Maria go and Ill tell you anything you want, she countered, gripping her hands tightly in front of her in an effort to hold it together.
Moments later Maria was free. She grabbed Gabbys arm and tried to tug her away, sobbing. Come on. Please, lets go!
But Gabby didnt need to see the threat to know Ty hadnt uncocked the gun. He remained in control of the scene.
She pictured him as hed described himself onlinesix feet tall and muscular, with blue eyes and blond hair he didnt get trimmed often enough. Her imagination had added a shaggy lock that fell forward over his forehead, along with smile-creases at the corners of his eyes and mouth to counteract the hint of sadness shed sometimes gotten from his words.
Now in her minds eye his mouth turned cruel and his eyes glittered ice-cold, sending a shiver of fear through her body.
Please, Ty, she said quietly. Let us go. We havent done anything to you, and we wont tell anyone. Just take the gun and go. Im begging you. If our conversations meant anything to you, youll
Then she broke off, knowing the conversations hadnt meant anything to him. Not like they had to her. His words had been lies, hadnt they? All lies.
She was surprised, then, when moments later she heard the distinctive click of metal-on-metal, followed by a rustle of nylon cloth and catch of leather as he disarmed the gun and holstered it.
Tell me everything you know about Liam Shea, he said. You might know him as Liam Sullivan.
I dont know anyone by either of those names. Gabby held on to Marias arm and felt the tension vibrate through her friend, through them both. Please go. I told Marias brother to give us ten minutes. Hes going to call the police if we dont check in with him by quarter past.
The lie earned her a snort of derision. Nice try, but we both know the local cops are busy. And besides, I outrank them.
There was another rustle of cloth, and Maria hissed out a breath.
What is it? Gabby demanded, trying to ignore a bite of frustration.
Hes with the Secret Service, Maria said, her Sicilian accent thickening. Special Agent Tyler Jones, she recited, reading from his ID. Vice presidential protection detail.
No hes not, Gabby said, going breathless with shock. Hes a
She broke off, realizing that it fit, sort of. Im a bodyguard for a corporate type, hed said, and Grant Davis, a decorated military veteran-turned-golden-boy politician, certainly fit that bill in some respects. Rumor had it he was the front-runner for the next presidential election, and hed been in Boston this past week for some glitzy affair at the Hancock Building.
Rumor also had it that hed disappeared right after the blackout.
Why are you here? she nearly whispered, fear and confusion stealing her breath. Why arent you looking for him?
I am, he said bluntly. I need you to tell me where I can find Liam Shea. If you dont, Ill have no choice but to arrest you as an accessory to the vice presidents kidnapping.
The ground pitched beneath Gabbys feet and the world spun invisible circles around her. I already told you. She swallowed hard when tears pressed at her throat. I dont know either Liam Shea or a Liam Sullivan. Period, end of discussion.
You hacked into his Web site on March fifteenth.
I never she began, then broke off, realizing that her two guilty pleasuresInternet dating and testing her hacking skills against the occasional encrypted Web sitehad come to roost simultaneously. And the Secret Service was involved, which meant Wait asecond, she thought. March fifteenth?
Ty had first e-mailed her through Webmatch.com on the seventeenth. St. Patricks Day.
Sick humiliation poured through her, nearly dropping her to her knees. Oh, God. You hit on me because I hacked into this guys Web site. You
She broke off, nausea building when she remembered all the things shed told him. She might have hidden her blindness and the circumstances leading up to it, but shed been open about everything else. Shed told him about her growing frustration with the school and the narrow confines of her life, about how she longed for adventure as much as she feared it. In return, hed urged her to step outside her comfort zone, to embrace life and focus on the people she loved. Hed told how hed married his high school sweetheart right after leaving the military, and how he heard his retired-colonel fathers voice in his head, calming him down when hed been in tight situations. Or had all that been a lie?
Shed thought they had a connection. It hurt like hell to find out hed only romanced her because shed hacked into some guys Web site.
Why me? Her voice cracked on the word and she nearly sagged against Maria.
Because you hacked into a Web site dedicated to defaming Grant Davis, Ty said coolly.
Gabby isnt a criminal, Maria said, her accent thickening with anger. And besides, there must be a hundred Web sites like that.
Thousands of em, Ty agreed. But this is the only one the vice president asked me to monitor personally. He and Liamlets just say they have a history.
Gabbys lips trembled. So you thought that gave you the right to pretend that you She broke off, unable to continue.
She mightve ended the relationship, but that hadnt prevented her from thinking What if. What if they did meet? What if he proved to be a better man than his predecessors, and hadnt minded that she couldnt drive or play golf, and that she sometimes fumbled her way around? What if?
Never once had she thought, What if it turns out hewas only pretending to like me?
Im sworn to protect the vice president with my life, he said. So, yeah, Im going to do whatever it takes to keep him safe, including joining a dating service to get close to a woman who hacks through trilevel security like its nothing.
Maria tugged on her arm. Lets go. Youre not saying another word until youve got a lawyer and this guys got a warrant or a subpoena or whatever Secret Service agents need.
But Gabby stood her ground, shaking her head. I dont need a lawyer. She lowered her voice, willing Ty to believe her when she said, I teach computer science at the Edmunds School. Thats a school for the visually impaired, in case your background research on me missed that little tidbit. I visit a ton of Web sites, and yes, sometimes I hack into the more challenging ones, just to prove I can. But thats it. Im not connected to anyone named Shea or Sullivan, and I have nothing against Vice President Davis. I swear it on my sisters life. She didnt know where that had come from, but although she hadnt seen Amy in over a decade, it was a binding vow. The love remained even though her family had cut her off.
Tears gathered now, welling from the pain in her soul. As for hacking into encrypted Web sites, you can be sure Ive learned my lesson. I wont be Web surfing anymore. You never know what kind of jerk youll meet.
A tear spilled over and tracked down her cheek when she realized that even though shed tried to end the relationship rather than meet him in person, some small, unrealistic part of her had hoped for something more when hed e-mailed earlier, begging for a meeting.
Her voice shook when she said, Please go.
Ty cursed under his breath and said, Listen, Gabby
But she didnt want to hear his lame excuses, didnt want his pity as the swirling emotions coalesced into a hard, hot ball in her chest and the tears surfaced.
Not wanting him to see her cry, she turned and fled into the darkness.
Ignoring Tys startled shout, Gabby ran along memorized paths. It was five long steps to the iron gate, twenty across the next courtyard over, then a sharp right-hand turn into the narrow alley between the Robinsons two-family and Gino Vinzettis house.
The sounds, smells and shapes of the neighborhood were familiar, grounding her in the realities of her life.
Then footsteps sounded behind her and Ty shouted, Gabby, wait!
Sobbing with anger and embarrassment, she hooked a left down Hanover Street, keeping one hand on the rough building faces and using the other to sweep her cane back and forth just in case. She tripped once and nearly fell, but regained her balance and kept going all the way to her apartment, which took up the ground floor of a three-family nestled between a seafood restaurant and a pastry shop.
She was grateful that none of the neighbors were home to see her tears and the way her hands shook when she unlatched the wrought iron gate that led to her side entrance. Hopefully, Ty wouldnt know where shed gone. She could trust Maria not to tell him.
But he was a federal agent. No doubt hed known her home address all along.
She blew out a teary breath and let herself inside. She leaned the cane against the door frame, knowing every inch of the apartment without its help, and headed down the entry hall toward the living room, with its soft, embracing couch and familiar, homey smells of cinnamon-scented candles and chocolate chips.
Wanting nothing more than to throw herself onto the couch and scream, she hurried across the room.
Halfway there, she tripped and fell.
Gabby cried out as she slammed her hip into the corner of her coffee table and crashed to the floor. A wave of pain washed through her, radiating from her right hip and elbow.
Dazed, she waited a moment for her head to clear, and then struggled to her hands and knees and felt around. Within moments her fingertips connected with the familiar outline of an antique doorstop cast in the shape of a sailing ship.
A prickle of fear shimmied in her stomach.
The ship was one of a half-dozen iron doorstops she had carefully placed around the apartment. Perhaps they were a strange collectors item for a legally blind person, but she knew where each one was, just as she knew the placement of every wall, every piece of furniture and all the other odds and ends in her space. Everything in her world had its place.
This ship belonged beside the kitchen door, not in the middle of the living room.
Heart pounding, Gabby searched the room by touching each object with trembling fingers. The sofa and coffee table were exactly where they belonged, and nothing else seemed wrong until she levered herself to her feet and felt for the desk. Out-of-place papers crunched underfoot, and there was a blank space where her computer should have been.
Oh, God. Her throat closed on panic, on denial. Oh, no. No, no, no. Please no. Her specially outfitted computer, her lifeline to the rest of the world, was gone. Worse, she realized, as she felt frantically along the tabletop, the jumble of half-assembled electronic components was missing, too. Shed been working on a new prototype, a device that could reproduce Web site graphics in three dimensions, allowing blind people to see them.
Someone wanted the design, she thought, her mind leaping ahead to seemingly impossible possibilities. Someone who knew what I was working on, who