But first…
I quickly entered his bedroom, turning on the lamp by his bed. Tigger lifted his head from where he was sleeping in the middle of Mason’s pillow.
I scratched behind his ear, smiling when he started to purr.
I noticed that Mason’s briefcase was in the same spot it had been before. The man really had no sense of security, which was a little annoying. I wanted him to be smarter.
I don’t want deceiving him to be so damn easy.
With one ear listening for Mason’s footsteps, I opened it, shuffling through the case files until I found mine.
I hurried to the door and looked out, relieved that Mason was still in the living room. I had to act fast.
Opening it, I scanned the contents. Most of it was background information on my exploits.
I noted with satisfaction that their IP tracing had been unsuccessful, just as I had known it would be. Apparently Mason and his partner had been going through the thousands of botnets trying to find me. I covered my mouth with my hand to stifle my laughter.
Idiots.
I flipped through the paper, reading about each and every dead end with a growing relief.
I let out a deep breath, sagging against the wall.
They weren’t any closer.
I had been worried for nothing.
Then I saw a printed list that caught my attention.
I recognized the IRC chat room names.
And in particular one that was highlighted and circled.
**bike for sale**
My blood ran cold.
There were time stamps of live chats. All for the **bike for sale** chat room.
How in the hell had he found it?
I had grossly underestimated his abilities. I had thought him a far inferior foe.
I had been wrong.
There were notes scribbled in the margins, along with dates.
Ryan Law.
Smacktown.
Stanford Pharmaceuticals.
Mason was zeroing in on my time line. He had found our hidden chat.
He hadn’t decoded the encryption, but he had his eyes on us.
This was a huge problem.
With trembling hands I quickly put the file back in his briefcase and turned off the light.
I needed access to his computer. His emails. I needed more than a paper file.
I had to get into his office.
Which meant going deeper.
A lot deeper.
I left his bedroom and headed back to the living room. Mason glanced over his shoulder as I entered the room. He watched me with some hesitation as I sat down beside him.
“I am sorry, Mason. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that,” I said, sounding contrite. Ashamed.
He didn’t touch me. His hands were fists in his lap. “Was it something I did?” he asked softly.
I shook my head. “No. You’re perfect.” Mason snorted and I reached out and touched his face, my fingers brushing his cheek. “I’m not that complicated. You can probably guess what the problem is without resorting to your FBI superpowers.” I smiled shyly, shaking my head in self-deprecation.
Mason took my hand. “You’ve been hurt before,” he deduced.
It was the easiest answer. The one that would excuse my actions. The one that made sense.
“Yeah. I’m really not that hard to figure out.”
Mason lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. I ignored the buzzing. The fireworks that threatened to go off in my belly.
He knew about the chat room.
Toxicwrath and I were going to have to shut it down. We’d have to find another way to communicate.
We had to go off the grid for a little while.
Coming to Mason’s apartment had yielded important results. I could ignore the guilt I felt at using him because of that.
The concern that my motives weren’t purely self-preservation was ignored for the moment.
I had to focus on this. On the next phase of my plan.
And that involved getting inside. Access to his computer was paramount.
But how?
“Hannah, we all have ghosts. I won’t be scared off by yours.” He sounded so sure.
The day would come when he’d regret those words. I was positive of that.
And I felt sad.
Too sad.
Oh no…
“I hope not, Mason. I really do.” I slid closer, our knees bumping. Tamping down the grief at knowing this would all end very, very badly, I pushed forward. Not recklessly. But purposefully. With a clear intent.
He was getting closer to Freedom Overdrive. I couldn’t have that. I had to steer him another way.
My brain was going a million miles a second. I was split in two. Part of me with Mason, playing the role.
Part of me calculating my next move.
Maybe I should scale back the encryption on the chat room. Make it more visible to prying eyes.
Mason’s eyes.
I could feed him false information….
He inched closer, his breath hot on my face.
My heart hammered in my chest as the idea formed.
I had to talk with Toxicwrath first, but this was why he had insisted I meet Mason.
To gain the information necessary to stay one step ahead.
And I would always be just out of reach. I felt confident. Emboldened.
I was Mata fucking Hari.
Only there would be no firing squad.
Mason’s hand went around the back of my neck. Heavy and proprietary. For a moment I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed. Immobile.
I’m playing with fire.
“You just have to learn to trust me,” he said.
“Can you trust me, Mason?” I countered.
He was quiet for a few seconds, searching my face. Looking for something that would make him question his feelings. Make him doubt.
He frowned and my stomach dropped.
I had to get out of there.
He would see right through me.
He leaned in and kissed me, quieting my instinct to flee. “I think I can, Hannah. I really do.”
And just like that, it all fell into place.
Yet I didn’t feel happy about it. I wasn’t sure I could celebrate the victory.
Chapter 15
Mason
“I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Her voice was excited in my ear and I couldn’t help but grin. She sounded like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Yeah? What is it?”
Perry dropped a file on my desk and raised his eyebrow questioningly. I shooed him away with a scowl.
“Well, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?” Hannah teased. I could hear people murmuring in the background. I knew she was at work.
“Not even a hint?” I asked, chuckling. I opened the file and saw that it was more of the same. Logs and logs of chat transcripts from meaningless IRC chat rooms that had nothing to do with anything. As the days wore on, I was feeling like I was searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
Freedom Overdrive was operating completely under the radar. Until he popped up with something new, there was little I could do.
Except drive myself crazy staring at the signature.
12080512alwcaw.
“Come over tonight and all will be revealed,” Hannah intoned cryptically.
“That sounds ominous,” I joked, clicking my pen open and closed.
“Dress nice. No jeans,” she instructed.
“Now I’m really intrigued.” What did she have planned? I loved that she was trying to do something nice for me, whatever it was.
“Be here no later than seven. No excuses,” she warned severely.
I quickly checked my calendar and was relieved to see that shouldn’t be a problem. Freedom Overdrive needed to lie low at least for another night. I wouldn’t let him ruin my plans.
“I’ll be there. Dressed nice. No jeans,” I said.
/>
“Okay, see you then. I can’t wait,” she all but squealed, and I laughed.
“Me either.”
“I want us to have a good night after…”
She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to. I knew what she was referring to. Her mini freak-out at my apartment. Honestly, it had bothered me at the time. Mostly because I thought I had pushed her too hard too fast.
But with Hannah it was hard to go slow. I felt this need to make her mine. And quickly. Before she slipped away.
Why am I thinking like that? She’s not going anywhere.
“Hannah, the other night was amazing. You don’t need to do anything special because of it,” I assured her.
“I still feel so silly.” She sounded embarrassed.
“Don’t. Please. Things are great. Better than great. I’m glad you opened up to me and let me see what’s going on with you.”
“You’re too good to me, Mason.” Hannah sighed.
“Not good enough. I can always do better,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“See you tonight, then.”
“Tonight,” I agreed.
I hung up and sat there, grinning like mad at nothing in particular. I didn’t even try to hide it.
I felt good.
Better than good.
I felt amazing.
And it was all because of Hannah.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
Madison’s voice had me instantly tense.
“Nothing,” I muttered, glancing at my former lover.
Madison’s mouth was pursed and she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. I wished we could move past the shittiness of how we had started. I wanted to be civil with her. I hated the workplace awkwardness. But Madison didn’t seem to be in any hurry to rectify things. She actually seemed to enjoy the discomfort her scorned-woman routine elicited.
“No one smiles like that over nothing,” she continued.
Why was she asking?
What was it to her?
“I’m seeing someone, all right?” I spat out. Madison’s expression didn’t change.
“I didn’t think you dated. Isn’t that what you told me a dozen times?” she snapped.
I sighed. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Not at work. Not ever.
“Yeah, well, I guess I needed to find the right woman,” I replied nastily.
There was a flicker in Madison’s eyes that looked like hurt and I regretted my words. I didn’t want to make her feel bad, but the bitch routine was getting old really fast.
Still, I shouldn’t have reacted like that.
Madison straightened her shoulders and stuck out her chin. “This came in the mail for you and was mixed up with my stuff.” Her words were clipped and hard. She dropped a thin brown envelope on my desk.
I could try apologizing for the hundredth time. But I knew it would get me nowhere.
“Thanks,” I said to Madison’s retreating back.
Chaz strolled by, coffee cup in hand, obnoxious smirk on his face. “You sure know how to make enemies, don’t you, Kohler?”
One of these days I’d punch Chaz Edwards. Punch him hard. So that he didn’t wake up for a very long time.
“Keep on walking, Edwards,” Perry piped up, appearing by my side.
Chaz laughed. “So you have Agent Dumb-ass fighting your battles now?”
Perry’s face flushed in humiliation. I got to my feet, towering over Chaz’s much smaller frame. He recoiled slightly, which was extremely satisfying.
“I think you need to worry about your own life more than mine. If I had a wife seen out with several different men who weren’t me, I’d be less inclined to comment on the relationships of others,” I sneered.
Chaz drew himself upright, clenching his fists. “You need to keep your false information to yourself, Kohler,” he growled.
Chaz’s wife’s indiscretions were common knowledge around the office. It just wasn’t something anyone spoke about within his earshot. I would have felt bad for him if he hadn’t been such an asshole.
“Back off, Chaz. We’ve all got work to do,” Perry said, coming to stand between us. I wasn’t sure what Perry thought he could do if Chaz and I decided to go at it. We’d break him like a twig.
Chaz glared at me, his hatred palpable. “It’s only a matter of time until you’re out of here. You’re not the great agent you think you are. You’re a two-bit fake.”
I should have been angry at Chaz’s insults, but I refused to let him bother me. His opinion didn’t matter.
I was a good agent. A great agent. He knew it. I knew it.
Everyone fucking knew it.
Even saddled with the worst cases, I was a hell of a lot better than Chaz Edwards.
Thus the reason for his venom.
“Walk away, Edwards. While you can,” I warned.
Chaz stormed off and I sat back down at my desk.
“Jeesh, what’s his problem?” Perry asked. I noticed he was shaking. Probably scared to death Chaz would deck him for intervening.
“Who gives a shit?” I muttered.
“What’s that?” Perry pointed to the envelope I had all but forgotten about in the showdown with Chaz.
“Not sure.” I picked it up with some hesitation. It had been scanned before making it up to the floor, so I was pretty confident it wasn’t laced with anthrax. But you could never be too sure.
My name and the field office’s address were typed on a solid white label. No way to trace handwriting. It had been mailed from within Richmond, according to the postmark.
“What if it’s poisoned or something? It’s too small to be a bomb.” Perry sounded panicked.
“You’ve watched too many movies. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably an invitation to the annual Bureau softball game or something.” Carefully I unsealed the envelope. I pulled out a small, perfectly folded piece of white computer paper.
I opened it. Two sentences.
*Trust is a liar’s plaything. Those closest to us are the biggest deceivers.*
“What does that mean? Who’s it from?” Perry asked, reading over my shoulder.
I balled up the paper and threw it in the wastebasket.
“Does it matter? I don’t have time for cryptic bullshit. It’s probably some wacko. Nothing important.” I opened my email. “I got a list of new ISPs to trace. We should get started on those.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll get on it too.” Perry scampered back to his desk.
Trust is a liar’s plaything.
Those closest to us are the biggest deceivers.
It felt like a warning.
About whom?
It was nothing. Empty words meant to rattle me. Probably from some nut job who had pulled my name out of the papers.
Even as I tried to put it out of my mind, it loomed. Words go deep. Infiltrating thoughts without realizing it.
The biggest deceivers…
Trust…
What did it mean?
—
“God, you look gorgeous,” I breathed when Hannah opened the door. My mouth went dry and my palms itched to pull the neck of her dress aside and kiss the soft skin.
“Thanks. You clean up nicely yourself.” Hannah grinned, grabbing a coat and stepping outside.
I had busted my ass to get to Hannah’s house on time. My days tended to get away from me. But today I wouldn’t be late. Not for anything.
Hannah was dressed in a tight-fitting dark red dress that fell to her knees. The neckline showed me just enough to know I really wanted to see what was underneath. Her legs looked amazing in a pair of red high heels, and I thought about her wearing them. And only them.
Her dark hair was swept up in a loose bun, wisps falling on either side of her face.
Hannah was always lovely, but I had never seen her quite so beautiful.
“How about I drive?” she suggested, leading me to her car.
“That would probably be a good idea, since I have no idea whe
re we’re going. You want to let me in on the secret?” I got into the passenger side of her very tiny car. I felt as though my knees were in my chest.
“You’ll just have to trust me,” she teased, starting the motor and pulling out of her driveway.
Trust.
There was that word again.
As much as I tried, I couldn’t put the mysterious note out of my head. Perry had suggested having it dusted for fingerprints. I thought that was a little extreme, given that it didn’t indicate any possible threat to myself or others.
But it bothered me. Like someone knew something I didn’t. And that pissed me off.
“How was your day, Special Agent Man?” Hannah asked. I noted she was heading downtown. Soon we were stuck in traffic.
“It was just a day. Nothing too crazy,” I answered vaguely. Always vaguely.
“That’s good.” Hannah never dug for more than I wanted to give her. Another reason she was so great. She let out a sigh. “Damn it, I should have listened to the traffic report. I hope we’re not going to be late. We have to be there at eight-fifteen.”
I glanced at my watch. It was only 7:45. “We have thirty minutes. Maybe if you told me where we were going, I could tell you if it’ll be a problem.”
Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Nice try. You’ll see soon enough.” She was enjoying keeping me in suspense.
I put my hand on the back of her neck, rubbing gently. “You really do look amazing, Hannah.” I leaned across the center console and kissed the side of her neck.
“Don’t think buttering me up will make me reveal where we’re going.”
I held up my hands in protest. “There are no ulterior motives. I promise. Though I think I can safely say I don’t think you’re dragging me back to the skating rink in these duds.”
We laughed together. It was so easy to do with her.
I could trust Hannah.
Are you sure?
The voice was never quiet. Not even now. When I was close to real happiness.
“No ice-skating. I promise.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, in a way I had become familiar with.
I realized I had started noting the details of her. Putting them to memory. Like the way her nose turned up slightly at the end. Or how she tapped her fingers on her knee when there was a song on the radio she liked.
When I caught the scent of vanilla, it made me think of the way her hair smelled when I held her close. Or how she covered her mouth while she chewed in case she had food on her lips.
Exploited (Zero Day #1) Page 18
