Shadowed Secrets

CHAPTER 1

Colin Sharp rounded the corner and stopped to stare at the woman standing on top of the desk. Engrossed in her own world, she stood on the chrome and steel office furniture, a clear throwback to the 1970s, and stretched her arms above her head to reach the fluorescent bulb. If not for the three-inch Mary Jane heels encasing her tiny feet, she wouldn’t have passed the five-foot mark. Her hair was a brassy copper, she was petite yet curvy, and he let his gaze linger in all the right places.

Sharp leaned against the doorjamb and admired the view with a satisfied smile. A spitfire, he guessed, if the way the curses fell from her lips were any indication of her temperament. With genuine male appreciation, he couldn’t help but wonder whether she exhibited that same fiery spirit in every aspect of her life… or only when wrestling ceiling tiles. He was not a fan of the heat in Arizona, and less of the hustle and bustle of any downtown center, but with views like this…

Son of a… flipping… aye… pog ma hone.

Sharp laughed at that, straightening away from the wall and sliding his hands in his pockets. The woman let out a startled gasp and turned to face him. To her credit, she remained sure-footed on the desk, and didn’t so much as teeter as she swung around to face him.

Oh! she raised a hand to her chest as her eyes widened in surprise. With a breathless laugh, she grinned down at him. Sorry you heard that.

Kiss my ass.

Pardon? The woman’s eyes narrowed as one brow lifted delicately.

Kiss. My. Ass. Sharp enunciated each word with each step toward her. Stopping at the edge of the desk, he tilted his head up to her. Your accent sucks, but the meaning is the same. Pog ma ho-in. he corrected her pronunciation. It’s Gaelic, for kiss my ass.

Ah. I… uh… The woman turned away from him.

With amazing grace, considering the height of her heels, she stepped from the metal monstrosity of a desk to the equally hideous surplus chair. He offered his hand for support, but she ignored it as she reached solid ground on her own.

Smoothing her hands down the front of her skinny black pencil skirt, she smiled. My father was Irish. I honestly have no idea what half of what I say means, but I used to hear him say it to a horse, usually after being thrown from a horse. She shrugged, I figured it was dirty enough for the situation.

Ah lass, I may be able to teach ya a few more curses. He flashed a smile that had proved helpful with females more than once. You know, in case another offending fluorescent light ever dares to cross your path.

Even in heels, the woman barely came up to his chin. The light has flickered since we moved in the building, and I would have lost my mind if I didn’t fix it. As for your offer of Irish curses… she smiled, I’d like that, I think.

A dimple high on her left cheek drew his attention momentarily away from her full lips, and sparkling brown eyes. A slight flush tinged her neck and colored her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. So, other than watching me fighting with the lights because maintenance refuses to acknowledge my existence, how may I help you?

If he weren’t on the job, he would spend a fair share of his time with the ever so cute secretary, showing her exactly how she could help him… and he her. A renowned flirt, Sharp loved women… the tall, the short, the redheads, brunettes, blondes, natural boobs and fake, the skinny and the curvy… and they loved him back.

He had a philosophy that women were one of those little things in life too often looked over, and rarely enjoyed properly. He’d made it his personal mission over the years to make sure the ones who crossed his path knew exactly how much he appreciated them.

Inhaling deeply, Sharp realized the redhead smelled like sunflowers. He breathed in again, and decided the smell of summer would forever change for him.

I’m early, but I have a meeting with the boss at eleven.

The boss?

Well, bosses. He extended his hand. I’m Colin Sharp. I’m meeting with Ken Diar and Sawyer O’Connell.

The woman tilted her head. Something tightened in Sharp, and not in the good kind of way. A small part of him regretted letting go of her soft hand. Not a single muscle gave her away. Her smile remained bright, but the warm laughing woman now intently and calculatingly sized him up.

I hadn’t heard about that meeting.

Sharp knew that secretary or not, the woman before him was searching for information. Not that she didn’t know what he was talking about, she wanted to see how much he knew.

This is Ken Diar’s office, yes? Phoenix headquarters for SatTech?

Slowly the woman nodded. It is.

And is this where I can find Ken Diar, or Sawyer O’Connell?

Yes.

Intelligence radiated from her, and Sharp wondered if he had perhaps stepped on what he could only imagine were very pretty toes. SatTech, an up and coming security technology company, sought to gain one of the biggest contracts from the United States government. During the pinnacle of success, staffers became territorial of their place in the company, as a way to make sure they kept their piece of the pie.

If this woman thought he was here to restructure, or worse - evaluate staff as was customary before a private company made it big - it would explain her sudden iciness. The business world knew Ken Diar as a man on the rise. To Sharp, he was just an old friend from college. Where Ken excelled behind computers, Sharp was a fan of experiencing life first hand out among the people.

Their differences had sent them in opposite directions as they got older, but they’d remained friends through the years. When Ken called asking for help because his tech company had been threatened and was in danger of losing its clearance to gain a government contract, Sharp immediately agreed to take a look at the situation.

Do you know when either of them will be here?

With a slight wave of her hand, she indicated a chair opposite her desk. Please, sit. I’ll see what I can find out.

He would not complain about being forced to spend time with a woman this pretty, and curious, and he had no doubt she was as curious about him as he was of her. Sharp sat in the chair. He appreciated the fact that she looked him over. A major fan of puzzles, he rarely let a challenge go by - and this woman presented a challenge. I’m in no rush.

That’s good to hear. Her voice lost an ounce of its warmth. What is the nature of your meeting with Ken?

He’s a friend of mine from college. If she thought he was intimidated by her standing over him, she’d be standing for a while.

What type of business are you in?

Security. He allowed the single word to float between them. Sharp had begun a backward downhill slide. He wanted to blame his lack of ability to charm the redhead on jetlag. His ego smarted a little… rarely did he have to work this hard with a woman.

What about Sawyer?

Don’t know him personally, Sharp admitted. But Ken wanted me to meet with him.

He said that specifically?

Not specifically.

Ken had told him SatTech suffered a security threat, and asked him to come review the situation. Ken’s second in command’s role remained unclear, but Sharp agreed to meet with him, so he would. Until his request for a background check was granted, he would play catch-up.

Sharp crossed an ankle over his knee. Will you be joining us?

She shrugged non-committedly.

Well then, he folded his arms over his chest, how long have you been with SatTech?

Since it started.

Fourteen years?

Twelve. She seated herself behind the receptionist desk she had been standing on. You’re Irish.

Born and bred, he confirmed.

Lass is a Scottish word.

Aye.

A flash of irritation crossed quickly through her brown eyes when he didn’t offer more of an explanation.

She raised a brow. How is it that a man with an Irish accent uses Scottish words?

He watched as her eyes narrowed and her cheeks became flushed.

Have I offended you in some way? It’s a little cold in here now, and I don’t think it’s the early morning Phoenix air. He would be as blunt with her as she was with him. She struck him as the kind of woman who could hold her own.

Her full lips parted to answer him when footsteps rounded the corner.

Hey, heads up, a friend of mine from college…

Is here, she finished the other man’s sentence as he entered the office. She remained seated, her focus still centered on Sharp.

Sharp! Ken smiled and crossed the room.

Sharp stood and hugged his friend briefly.

Damn you’re still short.

Damn you’re still nerdy, Sharp slapped him on the back.

Thanks for coming. At forty, Ken still looked like a teenager. Nearly six feet tall, with long dark hair that flopped in his face, he wore jeans and a polo shirt buttoned up to his neck. Even without glasses, Sharp still saw the lanky bookworm with whom he once shared a dorm room. This means a lot, man.

Not enough to warn the troops. Sharp laughed and turned to the woman who watched the exchange from her seated position. You run a tight ship. No one allowed passed the secretary, eh?

Ken tilted his head in confusion. I haven’t had a secretary in a year and a half. Can’t stand ‘em.

Sharp lifted a brow at the redhead. The puzzle piece that had been escaping him fell into place. Jetlag was not his friend. Sawyer O’Connell, I presume?

The one, the only. Ken’s smile faltered. You didn’t hit on her, did you? You never could keep it in your pants.

Sawyer took a slow deep breath in, and out again. Why are we in need for a security specialist? Is something going on? What haven’t you told me?

Ken shook his head. You’ve got it all wrong.

Make it right, then. Standing, Sawyer kept her arms crossed as she leaned a hip against the desk. Tell me why you need a security expert.

Sawyer, he’s not here for me. He’s here for you.

CHAPTER 2

Sawyer was stunned into silence.

She watched Ken turn away from Sharp and start toward her. The air became a little thicker, and she held her hands up, stopping him.

She’d been running on fumes for weeks now, and this information was yet another reminder of exactly how tired she was. This was the 20th anniversary of her father's death. In a few weeks she would be attending the wedding of a close friend, a reminder that she had no man of her own. She’d also gained six pounds between Texas and Louisiana during her last road trip - and all of that was just her farce of a personal life.

Her friend's company, once a one-man operation, was now a full suite in a five story building… and on the brink of becoming a multi-million-dollar organization. Ken's job was to push the company over the brink; Sawyer's was to clear the path for that push. Unfortunately, the fates were working against her for the last several months, making it less of a path, and more of an uphill battle.

Okay, that sounded a little more ominous than I intended. Ken stopped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. You're about to be named partner in the company before it goes public. You'll be on the road - the public face of SatTech for press conferences and government committee meetings. I want you protected until I can get an official security team in place. This is all happening so fast. Ken nodded toward the man watching their exchange, He is the best, I know him, and I trust him.

Listen, I'm sure Sean is good at his job, Sawyer sat back down as the pressure behind her eye intensified. She had finally found her limit on sleep deprivation.

Sharp. The Irishman corrected her.

Sawyer spoke over him, But I’m not in danger. I will be in government buildings and business complexes. When I'm not in meetings, I'll be bribing room service guys for extra cheese on my burger. I have ten meetings, two conventions, and that’s not including Cherlynn's bridesmaids dress fitting, her wedding and my godson's birthday party. I won't have time to get into trouble, and trouble wouldn’t be able to catch up with me even if I did.

Then what're ya worried about? Sharp asked from his seat.

I, Sawyer took a deep breath and released it slowly before starting over. She was just too tired to justify her actions to strangers. I am not worried. I am busy. I have a ton of things to and almost no time to do it in.

Then it won't hurt to have an extra set of hands. Sharp leaned back nonchalantly.

I'll be traveling.

I'm portable.

I don't want distractions. She threw up her hands and sighed.

I'm flattered.

Sawyer lowered her hands and stared at the man. Nothing seemed to faze him, and it didn't appear he would be deterred from the job Ken offered him a mere two minutes prior. In fact, Ken watched their banter with an amused smile.

Sawyer closed her eyes and leaned back against the chair. She had no real reason to object so heavily to this man. She felt like she was drowning. This man, and his quick wit, hazel eyes, and Irish brogue were definite distractions. That, and she hated being babysat.

You don't need it, you don't want it. But I do. So for me, please, take Sharp with you. Ken pulled his ringing cell phone from his pocket, silenced it, and leaned forward. It'll make me feel better until everything is signed and finalized.

Lifting her head again, Sawyer faced Ken. She could rarely deny this man anything. He was a genius to the rest of the world, but to her he would always be her next-door neighbor in a rundown duplex. Neighbors became friends, friends became family, and family had ultimately become business partners. Sawyer's people skills allowed Ken to do what he did best: build upon computer technology.

Turning away from Ken’s impression of puppy dog eyes, she gave Sharp her full attention. "I'm not your friend, not your buddy, and after a few drinks I will not be fighting any new-found feelings of desire for you. This is life, my life. I have to get things done, and I can't worry about you standing over my shoulder or slowing me down."

Agreed. Sharp leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. You hate that you didn't get a choice in my tagging along, and I understand that. You are afraid that basic decisions will be taken from you, and you don't want that to happen. Am I close?

Perfect. Sawyer flashed a genuine smile. Happy? She swung her gaze to Ken.

Before Ken could respond, Sharp straightened in his chair. My turn.

Something stilled inside Sawyer. She should have known this man would not be so calm and agreeable without an agenda of his own. Okay.

This is life. Your life, as you pointed out. I don't know why Ken is worried, but he is, and he called me in. He wants you to have personal security, so that is what you're going to get. If at any point, things for whatever reason do become dangerous, those basic decisions you are so fond of making yourself will be taken away from you. You're going to hate me. You're going to curse me. You're going to research on the internet how to make a voodoo doll of me. But you will not fight me. You will not question me. He leaned back in his chair, You will not second guess me.

Are you always going to be such a hardass?

Not always.

Sawyer took a deep breath. These decisions you're going to take away from me, will they include decisions like choosing between Chinese food or pizza, and wine or beer?

Yes, Sharp responded without pausing, his eyes locked with hers. Because I don't know you well enough to trust you to feed me. For all I all know, you'll order something frou-frou like spring rolls and red wine. I'm Irish, I need sustenance.

How well can you blend into the background?

He replied with a shrug, Well enough.

Why haven't you noticed I've asked five questions after being told not to?

You've asked four. Yes, I've noticed, and yes, you're going to be a pain in the arse, but you're not the worst I've ever had to protect. But that's okay - it looks like you've made it a goal, and goals are good. Plus, I've never been one to turn down a challenge. Sharp stood and in a move Sawyer suspected was second nature to him, slid his hands into his pants pockets… and winked at her.

Folding her own hands to hide their sudden shaking, she swallowed thickly. She usually convinced people to her way of thinking, ran them out, or shut them down.

This man didn't appear to be going anywhere.

# # #

Sharp engaged in a game of stare down with the pretty redhead. She jumped as though startled before pulling a cell phone from her pocket, and excusing herself. He stood when she stood, and Sharp tracked her movements as she crossed the hall and began to pace in a small office with glass walls. Although he could not hear her phone conversation, she looked calm and controlled as she spoke.

After a few moments, Sharp shifted his gaze to his friend’s reflection in the window. Well, that was fun. Do you want to tell me what's really going on?

To his credit, Ken did not try to hide the amount of relief he felt when Sawyer conceded to Sharp's presence. He ran a hand through his hair, Sorry you were caught in the middle like that, man. I meant to get here early and fill you in before Sawyer found out.

Fill me in now.

With a sigh, Ken sank in the chair next to him. I don't know where to start.

The beginning. Sharp offered, still watching Ken's reflection.

His friend looked nervous, but not fidgety. Although not a self-absorbed person, Ken easily got lost within himself while working on a project. From what Sharp had seen so far, Sawyer and Ken looked like the perfect pairing. Sawyer appeared to be driven, strong, and controlled… and would easily keep Ken on track. Sharp had no doubt whenever Ken began to fall down the rabbit hole of technological advancement, Sawyer would waste no time in reaching in and pulling him out again. If he were to guess, Sharp would bet Sawyer had become Ken's human connection to the world. His respect for her grew.

Ah, damn it Sharp, there is no beginning. The threats are coming daily, and they're all centered on Irma.

Sharp turned from the window to face Ken. Who is Irma?

Ken smiled. Not who. What. IRMA stands for Information Router Messaging Application and is the program we've been working on.

Sharp crossed the room and sat across from his friend. Tell me about the program and why you think Sawyer needs protection because of it.

She's a simple program, so simple, but Sharp, Ken sat forward, a bright light shining from within as he spoke, her beauty is in her simplicity. She looks, sounds and acts like a text-messaging program, but she's so much more. She's an interlocking message system. There are four locks, but at any given time, only three are active, and they all reset and reconfigure after each use.

So, Sharp visualized the program in his mind, the equivalent of locking three of four locks on a front door. No matter how many times you pick it something is always locked.

Ken’s hands danced in the air. Yes! That was what first made IRMA such an attractive program to the government. The amount of information that could be sent and received, between agencies if needed. And the banking world - there is no amount of information she can't handle the way she's set up. An eight-digit code with predetermined meanings and two executable reset codes. This would eliminate having a single hub. Single hubs are vulnerable targets. Each code could have its own center, making hacking nearly impossible.

Nearly. Sharp knew all codes could be hacked… in time.

Nearly. Ken slumped back in his chair. The codes change. That is the point. No dead port is supposed to be dead more than once per rotation. As they rotate, they share being the dummy lock… like a black hole. No information can be stored within them.

But? Sharp flicked his gaze over Ken's shoulder to make sure Sawyer wouldn't overhear their conversation.

But during testing, there was one port that when it was dead, had information attached to it.

Someone hacked your un-hackable system? Sharp guessed.

Not just someone. Someone who is trying to sabotage the government contract.

Sharp narrowed his eyes. Because?

Because the information wasn't hidden, it was being stored. It was a mish-mash of information, but some of it is enough to be detrimental to a few of the oversight committee members.

Sharp pulled his gaze from Sawyer’s glass room back to his friend. "What do you mean was being stored?"

Ken rubbed his hands over his face. Sawyer was with me when we were testing the system. I assigned her a specific key code to help me debug the system. She spotted the anomaly. Hell, she can’t operate her garage door opener. When it comes to computers, she knows just enough info to be dangerous.

Meaning?

Meaning she pulled the information from the dead port before I could stop her. Now, whoever stored that info there is going to try and get it back.

Sharp rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and stroked his chin. It wasn’t that he thought his friend was lying, but something didn’t set right with him. Release of that information would mean public humiliation, maybe an inquiry, and definitely a loss of trust and reputation. But nothing that would require private security. Are you saying these committee members are into something that could get her killed?

Ken hung his head with a sigh. Yeah, there was bad information and whoever put it there wanted it found. Now they not only know it has been found, but I hadn't secured our key codes - it was a test run damn it. They know exactly who took the info.

You’re certain?

Ken lifted his gaze to Sharp’s, and for the first time, Sharp saw the light dim in his friend. I’m certain. They’ve contacted me. They dangled bait and Sawyer took it. They want the program for themselves, and they’re threatening Sawyer’s life to get it.

CHAPTER 3

Sawyer O'Connell was a morning person by nature - as long as those mornings fell between April and October. Any other month, Arizona mornings were cold, dark, and unwelcoming. Unfortunately, it was still early February. The days were starting to warm up, but the nights - and early mornings - were still dark and cold.

Walking down the short hallway from her room to the kitchen, Sawyer yawned as she rounded the corner. She welcomed the busy schedule, the distractions, and yes, even the escape from the Irishman Ken had sicced on her the week before.

He had been her