He often saw her smiling to herself as she read.

This was good information to know. He would go to a bookstore and pick up a copy of an Evanovich book. He would make sure Geneva saw it in his bag when he walked through reception. It could be an ice-breaker that could lead to conversation and maybe more.

He remotely moved the lens and saw that Geneva’s purse was open on the floor next to her chair. He pulled in tight and saw cigarettes and gum and two tampons along with keys and matches and wallet. It was that time of the month. Maybe that was why Geneva had been so curt with him when he had come in. She had barely said hello.

Carver checked his watch. It was past time for her afternoon break. Yolanda Chavez from administration was due to walk through the door and let Geneva go. Fifteen minutes. Carver planned to follow her with the cameras. Out for a smoke, to the restroom for a squat, it didn’t matter. He would be able to follow. He had cameras everywhere. He would see whatever she did.

Just as Yolanda walked through the door into reception, there was a knock on his own door. Carver immediately hit the escape command and the three screens returned to data flowcharts for three different server towers. He hadn’t heard the mantrap buzzer out in the control room but he wasn’t sure. Perhaps he had been concentrating so hard on Geneva that he had missed it.

“Yes?”

The door opened. It was only Stone. Carver became annoyed that he had killed his screens and that he was going to miss out on following Geneva.

“What is it, Freddy?” he asked impatiently.

“I wanted to ask you about vacation time,” Stone said loudly.

He entered and closed the door. He moved to the chair on the other side of the worktable from Carver and sat down without permission.

“Actually, fuck vacation time,” he said. “That was for the benefit of the guys out there. I want to talk about iron maidens. Over the weekend I think I found our next girl.”

Freddy Stone was twenty years younger than Carver. Carver had first noticed him while lurking under a different identity in an iron maiden chat room. He tried to trail him but Stone was too good for that. He disappeared into the digital mist.

Undaunted and only more intrigued, Carver set up a catch site called www.motherinirons.com, and sure enough, Stone eventually came through. This time Carver made direct contact and the dance began. Shocked by his young age, Carver nevertheless recruited him, changed his looks and identity, and mentored him.

Carver had saved him, but after four years Stone was too close for comfort, and at times Carver could not stand him. Freddy assumed too much. Like just coming in and sitting down without permission.

“Really,” Carver said, a note of disbelief placed intentionally in the word.

“You promised I could pick the next one, remember?”