Heather Woodhaven

Protected Secrets


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      —2 Corinthians 3:5

      For my children and nieces and nephews. Thanks for all the laughs and stories and imaginative playtime throughout the years. You guys rock.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       ONE

       TWO

       THREE

       FOUR

       FIVE

       SIX

       SEVEN

       EIGHT

       NINE

       TEN

       ELEVEN

       TWELVE

       THIRTEEN

       FOURTEEN

       FIFTEEN

       SIXTEEN

       SEVENTEEN

       EPILOGUE

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       ONE

      Bruce Walker recognized his assistant as the only other person in the parking lot. Her silver curls and thick glasses reflected the sun cresting over the tall trees in the distance. “I owe you big, Nancy.” He approached, holding two to-go cups. “I know Saturday mornings are precious.”

      “Just missing my cartoons.” She paused. “You see, it used to be Saturday mornings when the cartoons—”

      “I’m not that young, Nancy.”

      She accepted the coffee with a wink. “Where’s your little darling? I thought you might bring her with you.”

      Aside from Nancy King’s attention for detail and unmatched work ethic, she acted as an honorary grandmother to his two-year-old daughter. It was a much-needed connection that he appreciated as a single dad. “She’s at a friend’s house this morning, which is why I’m taking advantage of your time. I feel like we’re not quite ready for the big sales pitch Monday.”

      Ever since Trevor, his stepbrother, quit the company six months ago, Bruce had yet to fill the gaping hole Trevor had left as his former partner. Nancy crossed the parking lot with him. He entered the code to momentarily disarm the security system and unlocked the door.

      On weekends, there was usually only one security guard on duty. At that moment, Max rounded the corner, hair freshly buzzed in a military cut he’d likely been wearing for over forty years. Aside from his uniform of an ironed white shirt and navy pants, he wore a holster with a gun and Taser. It seemed like overkill to Bruce, but he relied on the expertise of the security firm to make those decisions. “How’s it going this morning, Max?”

      “Before you came, it was quiet on all fronts, just how I like it.” Max whistled as he strode past them. For good measure, Max checked the locks on the door they’d entered before he rounded the next corner.

      Bruce’s phone dinged with an alert: Network Down. He groaned. There was no explanation for that, but it didn’t necessarily mean the problem was on their end. “Slight change of plans, Nancy. I’m going to need to make a quick stop in the server room to make sure everything is okay.”

      She matched his stride. “Can I do anything?”

      “I’ll need to talk with someone in the IT department first. I think Doug is on call today. Could you text him? He should’ve received the same alert I did.” He shoved the stairwell door open since the elevator worked at a snail’s pace.

      Nancy didn’t complain. He heard her steps behind him until he reached the basement level when her phone dinged. “Doug says it’s just come back online, but he doesn’t know why the blip occurred in the first place.”

      So it could’ve been a connectivity glitch. “Tell him that since I’m here I’m going to take a look and call him back in a minute.” He stepped out into the open area filled with cubicles. “Nancy, you can wait for me in my office if you want.”

      In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of someone disappearing behind a cubicle wall. He froze for half a second, caught off guard. It was possible his eyes were playing tricks on him. Glad Nancy hadn’t left yet, he turned his head and said in low tones, “Send Max a text and tell him to make his rounds down here now.”

      Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t argue. Her thumbs flew over her phone’s keypad.

      A blip of light flashed from the cubicle to his left. Bruce strained his neck and saw a computer monitor on with a script shooting lines of code out faster than he could read. So he wasn’t