trouble this guy was going to give her. The man was really put out by the involvement of the Colby Agency—Ann in particular. In his opinion, her presence undermined the Bureau’s ability to get the job done.
Lewis considered her question a moment as he took the exit to Aris T. Allen Boulevard. “The man is definitely in a position to generate some unpleasant moments for you. He claims he knows of no one who would want to hurt his family like this. But, hey, you don’t get that high up the food chain without making some powerful enemies. We’re following that avenue as enthusiastically as any other.”
She doubted the latter, but that wasn’t her problem. Leaning her head back, she tried to relax. Speaking frankly with Lewis wasn’t a hardship. She had trusted him when she consulted for the Bureau. She trusted him now. “I’m not sure how I feel about this press conference.” It was not going to go over well with local law enforcement and certainly not with the Bureau.
Lewis shrugged. She took his brief pause as an excuse to study his chiseled profile. They had attempted the dating thing a few times, but work always got in the way. The story of her life.
“I think it could be an excellent strategy.”
That surprised her. “Really? I doubt your superiors will feel the same way.” That was an understatement if she’d ever made one.
Another of those careless shrugs lifted his navy-clad shoulder. He wore the nicer suits, the ones that couldn’t be bought right off the rack.
“A press conference might very well draw the Guardian Angel out of seclusion,” he submitted. “He might just decide to help. And there’s always the chance an announcement like this could scare the unknown subjects who took the girl. If they feel threatened, they might decide Caroline Fowler is too much of a liability to proceed. Anything’s possible, Ann.” He shot her a sidelong glance. “If you tell anyone I said this, I’ll deny it. We’re pretty damned desperate at this point.”
Ann’s tension eased fractionally at his forthrightness and because he didn’t take an immediate stand against the notion of a press conference. Maybe the press conference wasn’t such a bad idea. She could handle it. All she had to do was take this one step at a time and keep that damned looming panic at bay.
Lewis’s cell buzzed.
Ann didn’t have to hear the other side of the conversation to know it wasn’t an enjoyable one. The term dressing-down came instantly to mind. With a firm “yes, sir,” Lewis ended the call.
“Let me guess,” Ann offered. “They’ve heard I’m in town and someone isn’t happy.”
He flashed her a smile that was far more patient than it was amused. “Bingo.”
As Victoria had said, this wasn’t going to be easy by any stretch of the imagination. The Bureau wouldn’t want her involved in any aspect of their investigation. Certainly not in the public eye amidst all the negativity related to law enforcement’s failure to solve a single one of the Fear Factor cases. Not to mention that the Bureau would remember well the last case with which she’d been involved—not one of the associated memories would be pleasant.
“We have a command performance,” Lewis informed her, “with the director.”
Well, well, it sure hadn’t taken Katherine Fowler’s husband long to get the ball rolling. When he’d said he didn’t like this, he’d really meant it.
Chapter Four
Annapolis, Maryland 5:20 p.m.
Kevin Addison was the best public relations agent on the East Coast. But even he, as he had repeated three times in the past half hour, couldn’t perform outright miracles. He needed a face to go with the name quickly becoming a megabuzzword in the electronics world.
Tough luck. That wasn’t happening.
Addison heaved a breath of frustration and settled his gaze on Nathan’s. Nathan Tyler sat behind his big desk, looking exactly like a character from a pirate movie—again, this was according to Addison himself. He loved throwing phrases like that around. Nathan was weary of his attention to this detail.
Addison didn’t get it. This was who Nathan was. Addison would be better served if he would simply get used to it. Nathan wasn’t changing. He wore his shoulder-length dark hair gathered at the back of his neck. His unyielding jaw (as Addison would put it) was shadowed by a day’s beard growth. Nathan dressed as he always did: well-worn jeans and white button-down shirt. All he needed was the eye patch and he would look exactly like a ruthless pirate—again, according to Addison. Every bit as crafty, as well, some would say. And that was exactly the way he liked it. This persona kept the world at bay…which was the point.
“Think, man,” Addison railed. “Those dark, almost forbidding good looks could prove an immense marketing tool. Women love that stuff. A big, strong warrior to keep them safe. Hell, some guys like it, too. We should capitalize on those assets. You’re the top security software creator on the planet. Everybody wants you. That you look as enigmatic as the concept of what you do only makes you more marketable.”
Nathan didn’t allow so much as a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. He sat there, surrounded by his books. This was what he did when he wasn’t flanked by a dozen computer monitors: research. All sorts—people, places, things, activities—and all a waste of time, in his agent’s opinion.
Addison shook his head at his client’s continued silence. “You’re not listening to me.” He rested his hands at the waist of his designer trousers. “It’s almost freaky, Nathan. You don’t have the first hobby other than these damned books and not a single friend, discounting the few employees allowed access to this—” he gestured magnanimously “—fortress. You need to get out. Take advantage of all your wealth affords you.”
Nathan almost laughed at that. If Addison only knew. He had a hobby, all right. One that kept him very busy but that was his secret.
“You can’t hide from the limelight forever,” his agent went on. “The name Nathan Tyler is synonymous with impenetrability. Nothing gets past your systems. Your company just bagged a multimillion-dollar government contract. They’re going to want to see your face, man.”
“No.”
Addison threw his hands up. “That’s perfect. One word. A single gruff syllable.” He pointed an accusing finger at Nathan. “I know you can command a better conversation than this. You don’t do all your talking with computer keys.”
“The answer is still no,” Nathan reiterated, using multiple words and syllables in an effort to convince the man. Or not.
Addison let his chin drop to his chest and swore softly. “Nathan…” He leveled his gaze on his client’s once more. “You have a lame-duck CEO running your company. You have me seeing after your best interests in the media. You have a butler, for Pete’s sake, who does your shopping. Give me a break here. The whole world wants to know the answer to one question—who is Nathan Tyler?”
“Go away, Addison. I won’t change my mind.”
If Addison were an easily intimidated man, Nathan would have had him running for his life with just that laser-beam stare. Addison had told Nathan many times that his icy blue eyes could cut through steel. But Addison was in PR. Sticking his head into the lion’s mouth was a survival skill. He wouldn’t
