Free Cyber Genius by Patricia Rice Page B

and I turn nasty when men stare at my boobs, so I hid them. Mostly.
Today, I was wearing a man’s fisherman’s sweater because I couldn’t find one in
a woman’s size at a reasonable price. With luck, I could tuck my braid in a
knit hat and be androgynous.
    That hope lasted until we stepped out the front door and ran
into Sean O’Herlihy at the gate.

Seven
    Ana goes visiting
    “That was Graham entering the hotel where Stiles was
killed, wasn’t it?” Sean asked, joining us as we walked toward the Metro. “You
do know Stiles was murdered, don’t you?”
    A little history—Sean’s father and my father were Irish
terrorists together. They died at the same time as Graham’s father. Sean and
Graham both had connections to my grandfather and possess a deep-seated neurosis
about bringing the bad guys to justice. I’ve learned to trust both Graham and
Sean, for different reasons.
    Other than his insane obsession with digging into Graham’s
activities, Sean was a decent guy, and not bad looking. He had a head full of
sexy black curls and big blue eyes that could float ships. I’d fancied him for
a while, until I realized he was more brother than boyfriend. I think he likes
Patra, but there’s nearly a ten-year age gap between them, so their
relationship remains long distance.
    “Hello to you, too,” I said, striding briskly for the Metro.
EG rattled her gloved hands along the wrought iron fences and ran ahead of us.
“Lovely day for the zoo.”
    “Dammit, Ana, I thought we were friends. Why not give me the
scoop? There are already rumors flying that Graham was up for a position on the
board. Until that news clip showed up, no one even knew for certain he was alive. If he was in that hotel that day,
the police will be all over him before sundown.” He paced angrily beside me.
    “You want me to speed them on their way? Do you think I’m an
idiot? We’d be out of a home by sundown.” Knowing that Graham’s story was why
Patra and Sean were breathing down my neck—they not only knew he was alive but
where he lived—I’d given the problem some thought. Sean had been extremely
helpful in the past. I wanted him on our side. But I wouldn’t screw around with
Graham either. Much.
    So I’d have to give them something just as ripe. Graham, the
paranoid hermit, would probably bust a gasket at my revealing any info, but
that was his problem.
    “As usual, you’re working the wrong side of the street,” I
told him. “I cannot confirm this—I’m not a Macro employee—but Stiles and his
execs were sitting on a potential national security nightmare. Contemplate who
would want that covered up.”
    “Everybody from the president on down!” he practically
shouted. “Rumors don’t cut it. I need facts.”
    I shrugged. I couldn’t clone myself, so I needed his help as
much as he needed mine. If I fed him just enough, we could work out a trade. “That
takes time and work. You can tag along with me, or you can hang around the
hotel restaurant and see if the missing chef’s fellow workers will spill
anything about him.”
    “The puffer fish chef is missing? How do you know that?” he
asked in good journalist fashion, not giving away whether he was just curious
or disbelieving.
    “The same way you would if you’d bother with tedious detail
instead of hanging out on street corners trying to catch Graham flying through windows.
He’s an agoraphobic recluse, not Dracula.” Well, some days he liked to be Batman,
but that was an inside joke involving EG’s interest in bats and my scorn of
Graham’s superhero tendencies. The man is capable of laughing at himself.
    We’d reached the Metro station. I grabbed EG before she
could disappear into the crowd. “You go one way,” I told Sean, “and I’ll go the
other. We can keep in touch,” I suggested, hopefully.
    He glared at the time on his phone and shrugged. “Can’t
hurt. I’ve only got two more hours to make the story my own, so find