K. R. Treadway
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Opposites Distract 8: Watchwoman
🕑 Added 2025-02-02 16:00:10 +0000 UTC
~ Edgar ~
Whatever the shiny floors of Phase Energy were made of, Liv Doyle’s high heels echoed off them like distant artillery. Edgar waited near the entrance to the research lab as her distinct footfalls came closer, loitering without trying to look like he was loitering.
None of his colleagues had talked to him today. They were either avoiding Haymer’s wrath or waiting to see if Edgar was coming back tomorrow. Either way, it had worked out—when the lab emptied out at five everyone was still doing their damnedest not to notice him. Edgar simply lingered, packing up his bag at a glacial pace, until he was alone.
He’d worried Haymer was going to stick around like a store owner watching a suspected shoplifter, but the team-lead had charged out at four and hadn't come back. Edgar genuinely wondered if the man had stomped off when he hadn't provided Haymer an immediate excuse to fire him. The guy might be loyal to the company, but his temper wasn’t helping anyone.
Liv’s high-caliber heels ceased on the other side of the lab's security doors. Edgar took two steps and opened one before Liv had to knock. She slipped in and they both waited until the door clicked shut. Then she quickly pulled off her shoes to maximize stealth.
God, the woman was just as flawless as this morning. Not a hair out of place.
Setting her briefcase and purse next to her heels, Liv turned to him. Her attitude oozed confidence. “What do you need?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
It was hard not to feel inadequate around Liv when she was on a case.
He shoved the traitorous thought away. “A look-out,” he said. “This lab has more workstations than the original plans. I need someone to keep watch so I can move fast.”
Liv’s expression turned puzzled. “You’re installing the monitoring software today? I thought that was tomorrow.”
“Sharon is already upstairs. She’s on the feeds now.”
Hartnell Inquiries’ security specialist had been brought in as something of a decoy. Sharon wasn’t working the case full-time, but was acting as a conspicuous consultant hired by Conrad Griffon to do a security audit. Her presence mostly served to draw eyes away from Edgar and Liv, but twice a week she would “run diagnostics” in the surveillance room for an hour. Alone. Any investigation activity in that span would get quietly erased.
“How do you know Sharon’s here?” Liv said. Something in her tone alerted his instincts.
“Hartnell agreed to bring her in early—I asked him to,” he added, seeing her bemusement tip toward a frown. Shit. It had been a last-minute request he hadn't expected to go anywhere, so he hadn't told her. Now Liv would feel like she’d been left out of the loop.
“I should have been made aware,” she said with a touch of ire.
“Well…I’m doing that now.”
Mistake. He knew it as soon as the words came out.
Liv’s eyes blazed, but her only physical reaction was a subtle tightening of her jaw. “So you’ve decided I’m on a ‘need-to-know’ basis.”
“What? That’s—”
“Like your plan to flatten Fred Haymer? That was above my pay grade too?”
Edgar blinked, taking a step back from her barely-leashed hostility. Liv wasn't just angry, she was royally pissed. He could sense there was something driving it under the surface. The correct response would be to defuse the situation, he knew that…but her words had cut surprisingly deep, drawing animosity instead of blood.
“I made some independent choices,” he shot back tersely, “and I stand by them. You want to second-guess me? Fine. But this isn’t the time or place.”
“I’ll find both,” she promised, her voice laced with venom. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but she cut him off. “We’re wasting Sharon’s window. Do what you came to do. I’ll watch for the guard.”
As furious as Liv was making him, she was right. There wasn’t time for this. She could get the last word now, but this war was far from over. Crushing all of his frustration into a single point of focus, Edgar spun around and grabbed latex gloves from his bag. He pulled them on before retrieving the flat gray toolkit next to his satchel.
Edgar had decided on a couple of dependable programs to surveil his colleagues. It wasn't ethical or legal to hack into email accounts, but dedicated work machines were fair game if the controlling company okayed it. He already had the research team’s credentials thanks to Griffon, so installing software to take screenshots and record keystrokes was the easy part. To be thorough, he had also brought network snoops, devices that went between a computer and its Ethernet cable. They would monitor web activity and file transfers.
Both techniques had a low risk of discovery. Apart from specialized research software, no one on the Hydro Cyclic team appeared to have any advanced computer expertise. If someone did display awareness of his methods it would be suspicious in its own right.
The tricky part was getting everything in place.
The first three work stations went quickly. The next two took longer since he had to install some missing utility programs. While he worked, Liv was a constant presence he could almost feel between his shoulder blades.
Was she still angry? He chanced a look. She was standing next to a table in the central area, hands around her arms and eyes focused towards the lab exit and observation windows above. The flicker of a confirmation window brought his attention back to the computer screen. One more keylogger done. He placed the ethernet monitoring device in just a handful of added seconds.
“We’re over the halfway mark,” he announced quietly. No answer.
She was still angry.
He was just finishing Kasumi Hirota’s machine—her desktop showed some K-pop boy band that seemed to have about a thousand members—when Liv’s loud whisper sent his adrenaline spiking.
“Up top.”
It was all the warning he needed. Twisting around the edge of Hirota’s desk, he dropped to a sit on the other side, out-of-sight of anyone walking past the second floor windows. His heart thudded in his chest as a high-powered flashlight beam streaked across the floor next to him. The security guard was early. Several seconds passed as he waited for either an alarm or Liv’s voice.
“Clear,” Liv whispered.
He got back up. Liv was already trotting over to the main door. She leaned close and pressed her ear against it. Of course. The guard had finished upstairs, so the next potential threat was his ground floor route. The security staff didn’t usually come into the labs, but “usually” wasn’t much comfort at the moment.
As he got back to work, Edgar found his attention briefly returning to his partner. The absolute focus on Liv’s face was striking. He’d read her case summaries, but watching her clinched it: she really was an outstanding field agent.
Ten minutes later he was down to the last work station. Fred Haymer’s personal machine made for a satisfying finish line. The keylogger installed like a dream, but his sense of impending triumph was quashed when he crouched to examine the computer itself. He cursed.
“Problem?” Liv shifted slightly to look at him, her ear still pressed against the door.
“He’s got it in some kind of security case. Must have bought it on his own.” Edgar stared at the enclosure in mute irritation. Either the man had something to hide, or he was deeply paranoid. Well…he supposed it was hard to fault Haymer’s paranoia considering what he was doing right now.
“You can’t open it?”
Edgar slid out his lock picks and shot her a side-eye. “I can. It’s just going to take time.”
“Better hustle, then.” Like he hadn't already been going as fast as he could.
Ignore her, he told himself, agitation makes your hands shake.
Pulling out two picks, he began to work the lock on the glass-fronted metal case. A minute later it released and he rotated it open. Forcing himself not to be sloppy, he carefully opened the enclosure’s door and slid the computer out to attach the network snoop. Done. He pushed it back in.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“What?”
Edgar didn’t answer. He was staring at the case’s lock, which was nothing but a dumb swivel mount. He would have to pick it again to close it. Without a word, he grabbed his tools and started working.
“Doors.” That same frantic whisper as before. Edgar didn't stop. The lock was trivial and he was seconds away. He glanced over, his hands still working.
Liv was dashing his way with a predator-like focus on her face. She set a hand on his shoulder and crouched down. “He’s coming in.” Her breath right against his ear sent an unexpected jolt down his spine.
The last pin clicked. He applied pressure and the lock turned so fast he almost fumbled a pick. Edgar shoved the case back into its cubby and dropped his tools into his shirt pocket. Their tracks were covered. At the same time they both heard the loud metallic chunk as the lab door disengaged.
“Get up,” she hissed, grabbing his shoulders. Edgar had just made it to his feet when she spun him around and slammed him back against the edge of the desk.
“What—”
She kissed him.
His heart went into overdrive as lush lips—lips he’d been fixating on for two days—pressed hard against his own. His arms went slack as she wrapped her fingers around his shoulders and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. For one dizzying, glorious moment he didn’t know what was happening except that Liv Doyle was kissing him.
Then reality slammed home. A security guard was in the room! He heard the man’s approaching footsteps even as Liv’s warm body pressed harder against him and threatened to drown all awareness. It was a ruse. Of course it was a ruse! Liv had picked the most believable cover story: two lovers pursuing some after hours “team building.”
He felt her feather-soft fingertips drift down his arms to his wrists…and then she was peeling off his gloves and shoving them in his lab coat pockets right before the guard stepped around the desk. She slid her hands back up to cradle his jaw. Their open mouths continued to explore. Unable to resist, he brushed his tongue against hers and felt some masculine pride as her breath caught. Never one to back away from a challenge, Liv answered with her own tongue, pulling a groan from the back of his throat.
The security guard coughed. It might have been for the second time. Edgar wasn’t sure. He abruptly broke away and blinked like a man awakening from a dream. It was a reaction that required no faking. Liv also looked slightly dazed. He hoped it wasn't all an act.
“Sorry man,” he finally said with an apologetic grin. “You know how it is.”
The guard was a tired-looking sort with neatly combed brown hair and a mustache. Roy Collins, offered the tiny part of his brain not blinded by arousal. Night shift. Three days a week. Schedule varies.
“No one’s allowed in the building after five-thirty.” The man’s tone was bland, but there was a hint of distaste under it.
“We apologize,” Liv said. Was her breathlessness real? He was desperate to know.
But then Roy Collins turned his attention on her and all amorous thoughts fled. It wasn't suspicion or even crude appraisal he saw in the guard’s eyes, but pure disgust. Edgar's anger—stowed for the duration of their unexpected kiss—found a fresh target. He could almost see the sexist conclusions forming behind the guard’s hostile stare, the sort of conclusions that would condemn Liv’s behavior without examining Edgar’s. I know how she got the job, the man would tell his friends.
It didn’t matter. Not to them. This petty man and his outdated opinions had no bearing at all. Liv’s cover identity was too confident to care. But Edgar still found himself struggling not to put this creep in his place.
“Miss,” the smug little martinet began, “we have certain expectations here…” Good God, the man was about to launch into a morality spiel. It was too much.
“Don’t lecture my girlfriend,” someone said.
Oh hell. It was him.
Edgar felt Liv go stiff under his palms. Because apparently he had grabbed her hips at some point during their lip-lock. How…odd.
“Girlfriend?” Collins asked.
“Yeah.” Somehow, he found a breezy grin to display. “This is my fault. I tend to get carried away with this one. Guess I'm still in the honeymoon phase.” He didn't, couldn’t, wouldn't look at Liv.
Collins made a noncommittal noise, then pointed a warning finger. “There’s a time and a place,” the man said, and just like that Edgar was trying not to laugh hysterically at the unintentional echo of his earlier words.
“I agree,” Liv said sweetly. Far too sweetly. “How about we hit the road, sunshine, and get out of this nice man’s hair?”
Edgar swallowed the bowling ball lodged in his throat and gazed into her beautiful blue eyes, the deep blue of the ocean right before a whirlpool opened up to drag a ship under.
“That sounds delightful, darling,” someone said.
It was him again.
