Page 84 of Insidious Threats

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When Petra had returned home from the grocery store with the couple, Stasia had thought nothing of it. She assumed they were friends visiting from out of town, maybe for a ski weekend. So the coder had called off work to entertain them. Harmless. So harmless, that Stasia had almost left then. But her field training and curiosity had won out, so she’d decided to stay a while longer.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This was a complication. And if there was anything Stasia hated, it was complications.

42

Petra finished editing the Mjölnir Killer worm, and the three of them moved into the kitchen by unspoken agreement. Connelly started banging around in Petra’s cabinets, taking out mixing bowls and measuring cups. He found a cutting board and a knife and arranged them on the counter at precise right angles to the edge. Then he added Petra’s meager spice collection to the lineup.

“What’s he doing?” Petra asked out of the side of her mouth.

“It’s calledmise en place,” Sasha explained. “It’s something they do in French restaurants—or, I don’t know, all restaurants? You gather all the equipment and ingredients and get them organized before you start cooking.”

“We could just order a pizza,” Petra suggested.

“Absolutely not,” Connelly said with his head in her vegetable bin. He emerged holding several carrots, a giant onion, and some celery stalks. “Everyone should know how to prepare their favorite dish. Besides, we have several hours to kill, and there’s no better use of an afternoon than to devote it to roasting a chicken.”

Petra dug in her heels. “Does she know how to make her favorite dish?” She pointed at Sasha.

“Her favorite dish is dark chocolate and red wine, so yeah, she’s got it down.”

Sasha shrugged. “He’s not wrong.”

They fell into an easy rhythm. Connelly was a good teacher, and Petra was a quick study. While they assembled themirepoix,Sasha spent the time video chatting with Finn and Fiona, responding to emails, and getting an update from Ellie. Cinco was resting comfortably—that is, when he wasn’t fretting about spending the rest of his life incarcerated or hiding from Leith Delone. She told Ellie to tell her dad to hang in there for another day, then she turned her attention back to the cooking lesson.

She waited until Connelly and Petra had salted and peppered the chicken and stuffed the fragrant sautéed vegetables and aromatic herbs into the cavity, followed by thin slices of fresh lemon. After they’d buttered the bird, trussed it, and slid it into the oven to roast, she finally addressed the six-foot-tall platinum-blonde elephant in the room.

“Look, that woman outside is either here for me or Petra.”

“How do you figure?” Petra asked, genuinely confused.

“Simple. She works for Leith Delone. Delone knows I knew Landon and that I represent someone whose interests are adverse to his. So he could have sent her to follow me, but I don’t think he did. I’d have noticed someone tailing me across the country. Pretty sure you would have, too, right?”

She directed this last part to Connelly, who looked up from the sink where he was washing dishes and nodded. “Definitely. She wasn’t on any of my flights. And they don’t know about the package Landon sent me. She’s not here for me.”

“So, the fact that she has ATJ’s phone confirms that she’s tied up with Delone, but not that she’s interested in me. That leaves you, Petra. It isyourapartment she’s staking out.”

“But, why? You don’t think they know I’m Rock?” Her face went pale.

“Doubtful. I don’t have any reason to believe they know about the worm that Landon created. But they do know your company did the debugging work for Pinpoint Partners. They may be worried that Gar said something to you.”

“They’d be right. But, like, how worried do I have to be?”

Sasha and Connelly exchanged a look.

Petra shook her head. “No, uh-uh. Don’t do that married couple telepathic communication bullcrap. Talk to me.”

“That’s fair,” Sasha acknowledged. “You’re probably in a moderate amount of danger if you go through with the plan to help us.”

“A moderate amount?”

“If we don’t all leave together, we might be able to outsmart her. Or at least delay her. If she’s sitting on you, Connelly and I could leave separately, sneaking you out through the back door or something. She’d either have to pick one of us to follow or sit here, watching an empty house. Eventually, she’ll realize what happened, but it’ll give us a head start if nothing else.”

Connelly grinned. “That could actually work.”

“Thanks, honey.”

“Can we get back to the moderate amount of danger?” Petra asked.