Reagan Through the Looking Glass (Hacking Wonderland, #1)

by Allyson Lindt

“Because the timing is never right to give me answers.” She left the distaste in her words, but did straighten in her seat and paste on a smile for the benefit of any onlookers.

  Hare pursed his lips, then pulled her to her feet. Hatter had vanished. Again. Faded into the crowd. She wanted to search every face until she found him. Hare wrapped an arm around her waist, limiting her range of vision, and led her to another room. No one sat on the plush couches or lounges here. She didn’t know if she was relieved at the lack of an audience or concerned that it meant no witnesses.

  “I was telling you the truth before—that Wayne wasn’t working alone. That he wanted to make sure you were safe if anything happened to him. Jabberwock wants you alive—I don’t know why—but I’m also here because of Wayne. It took years to entrench myself in this organization and work my way to the top. Please don’t blow my cover now.”

  She shook her head and gave a short laugh. “You’re making it hard to believe anything you say. If that’s true, why did he approach me the night Wayne died? Was that on orders from Jabberwock as well?”

  “You know him.” Hare’s cool mask slipped, and he raised his brows. His pleasant, neutral expression slipped back in again so quickly, she wondered if she imagined the change.

  “He approached me,” she repeated. Deceived her. Used her. For all she knew, got off on hunting her. Fuck. Hare could be doing the same thing. Probably was.

  “I can’t say why.” Was that a waver in his voice? No. “We all operate on a need-to-know basis, and I’m not how that applies to him unless it impacts me. It was a mistake to bring you here.”

  “Then why did you...? Holy shit. You’re the one who’s supposed to be meeting with the business contact.”

  “We both are. But I didn’t realize you’d met Hatter. That changes everything.”

  “Does it? You were going to have to tell me anyway, if you were going to connect with this other person. Why am I here in the first place?” And how quickly could she leave? Would he let her walk away now? The man at the restaurant said safety was more important than keeping her alive. She should assume that about everyone.

  Hare rested a palm on her cheek and forced her to look at him.

  Ice crawled down her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake, and she resisted the desire to jerk away from his touch.

  “I told you when we first met I have to be able to trust you as well. This isn’t the kind of information I can give to just anyone, if I want to keep my position and stay alive.”

  It made a kind of sense, but that didn’t mean it was true. “Why have you worked so hard to find your way in?” Would she be able to spot another lie if he gave her one?

  “Same reason you have.” Hare gave her a tired smile. “To find out what happened to Alex. Can we leave now?”

  She didn’t want to go anywhere with him, but at the same time, running without a plan felt stupid. She nodded and let him lead her back to the valet podium. Questions surged in her head as she waited for the car to be brought around. Which could she ask and get an honest answer?

  “Why bring me, if you’re going to leave without completing the job?” she asked as they headed away from the country club.

  “Hatter can finish things. It was only surveillance. I wanted you to experience the subtlety of the operation and see if you picked up on anything.”

  The odd statement was enough to pull her out of her spiraling thoughts. “Like what?”

  “If I tell you, then you weren’t the one who picked up on it.”

  She clenched her jaw. “That’s some cryptic bullshit. Are you tired of giving me answers? Again?”

  “If I tell you my perspective, it taints yours. If you see this through your own eyes, it becomes more real. Less filtered.”

  Unfiltered was the opposite of everything that came out of his mouth. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I told you earlier, I have other work to do. I’m putting you in a new motel for a few days.”

  It was too easy. He was going to leave her alone after dropping a bomb like this? She wanted to celebrate. Instead, for appearance’s sake, she pouted and slumped in her seat. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  He glanced at her. “Someone will keep an eye on you, until I can come back.”

  “Yay. A new roommate.” Did her sarcasm hide the nauseated hope surging inside? And how did this all fall into place so quickly? Where was that point where he stopped watching her for Wayne and Alex, and started carrying out Jabberwock’s orders?

  “No.” Hare smiled. “I’m too selfish for that. He’ll watch from a distance.”

  “Good.” She didn’t dare say more, for fear of saying too much.

  Fifteen minutes later, Hare pulled into the parking lot of a single-story building with a neon Vacancy sign flashing near the front office. Inside, he headed toward the check-in desk. “Wait here,” he said.

  She was tempted to bolt, but if she waited until he left, and made sure she avoided her guard, she’d have a lot more of a lead when someone came looking for her.

  A few minutes later, Hare handed her an envelope with a number written on it and a key card inside. “I’ll make sure your room is secure, though it should be. This is a last-minute decision, so it’s not likely to register on someone’s radar.”

  That was good, right? If he didn’t plan this, there were no cameras or any way of monitoring her? Assuming he was telling the truth. `It seemed smarter to err on the side of paranoia at this point.

  He accompanied her to her room and dropped the duffel bag that contained the clothes he’d bought her after they left the boutique on the bed. He spent longer than she thought possible examining every inch of the place, from the closet to the shower and including the two inches that separated the bed from the floor.

  He stood and smoothed out his suit. “It’s clear. Will you be all right here for a couple of days? I’ll leave you with money, and the people watching you will be by your side if you go out for food.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She gave him a tight smile. With a little luck, he’d interpret it as stress, rather than her mind tripping over the best escape route.

  “Good.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll be back in two days. There’s a burner phone in the bag. Call me if you need me.”

  “Thanks.” You can leave now. She kept the mental chant from her expression.

  After Hare left, she changed quickly. Part of her cringed at the idea of mistreating the expensive dress and shoes. She hesitated, then bundled them as carefully as possible and set them in the duffel bag.

  Dressed in clothes more suitable for moving around, she sank to the edge of the mattress. How long did she need to wait before bolting? Where was her guard located, and was there more than one? If she went for a casual stroll around the property, would she be able to tell?

  It seemed like a good place to start. While she was out, she could grab something to snack on from the vending machine she saw down the hall.

  She opened the door, and her heart dropped into her shoes when she almost smacked face-first into Hatter. “Are you fucking kidding me?” The question escaped before she could stop it.

  “Wherever you think you’re going, don’t.” He nudged her back into her room.

  She bit off a laugh before it could slip into maniacal. “At the risk of never climbing out of this hell, what else could go wrong?”

  “I’d give you a list, but we don’t have a lot of time.” Hatter hovered near the door, arms crossed, even when she paced to the other side of the room.

  “I’m being watched,” she said.

  “You are. Two men at each exit, and at least one general on you at all times. Jabberwock ordered me here to check your room, and then leave the rest of his people to nighttime guard duty.”

  “Well fan-fucking-tastic.” She pulled the chair out from the desk and sat. “At least I’m safe.” The sarcasm oozing from her voice kept her mind from spiraling into a well of panic and despair.

  Chapter
Ten

  Hatter stared at her for several seconds before speaking. “I’m here in two capacities. As a general, and to tell you I’m your friend on the inside. And thank God you’re safe. I’ve been looking for you for days, terrified I broke my promise to Wayne in under a week.”

  He had the nerve to force his way into her room, after lying to her in Vegas then following her at the funeral, and act as though she was the one who vanished? “Get the fuck out of my room, or I’ll mace you.”

  “Are you hiding the canister in your back pocket? Your bra?” He surveyed the area surrounding her.

  “I’ll scream.”

  “If you do that, you won’t get answers.”

  “Answers don’t do me any good if they’re bullshit.” She was tired of being threatened. At least he was in her face about it, rather than shooting her in the back. What did she need to say, to get him to leave? “Besides, I have answers, and I was promised I wouldn’t have an in-room babysitter.”

  “I told you I’m only here long enough to make sure you’re settled.” As he spoke, he made his way around the room, lifting the receiver on the phone. Unscrewing the mouthpiece. Checking the lamps—shades and bulbs. Looking under the bed.

  “Right. The armed contingent who’s here to keep me safe, even though it makes it sound like I’m a prisoner.” She’d already been sucked into one mind-fuck, she didn’t have the sanity for a second.

  Hatter pinched the bridge of his nose and slid to the floor, back against the door. “Wayne didn’t tell you.”

  “He told me a lot of things.” She didn’t think for a second that just because Hatter had his back to her, he wasn’t on his guard. Despite not seeing him in action, she had no reason to suspect he wasn’t as well trained as Hare. “He stopped short of advising me to wear a tinfoil hat, but he did make me carry a purse lined with copper mesh.”

  “That means in Las Vegas you thought I was... Shit.”

  “No. I thought you were a smooth-talking, sexy-as-fuck businessman, who liked to slum it a little. Not a hired henchman. I’m starting to think you’re a shit, though.”

  “Can we start over?” he asked.

  She’d like that. Not in the way or for the reasons he probably meant, but more like going back to when Wayne told her to be on her guard, and instead of ignoring him, she ran as fast as possible in the other direction. “Sure. I apologize for interrupting your script.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “That night in Vegas, when you refused to come home, Wayne asked me to keep an eye on you.”

  “Did he tell you to fuck me, too? Because that doesn’t sound like the guy I knew.”

  “No, Alice—”

  “Don’t call me that.” She barked out the words. “How did this supposed conversation go? He told you I had a thing for intelligent, witty men, and you figured that was your way in?”

  “I thought you knew who I was. I wasn’t going to walk up to you and say Wayne sent me, if Jabberwock’s men—besides me—were watching you, but Wayne assured me he would tell you to look for me. You were pretty straightforward about your interests.”

  “I thought it was a random hook-up.” She was seconds away from shouting. Not because she thought it would do her any good, but she needed an outlet for her frustration. “Do you try to prove yourself next? Tell me you know things no one else possibly could? That you knew and adored my brother, and you want to get revenge and help me in the process? Because I’ve already heard a version of that story, and wherever you people are getting your lines, you need to compare notes better so I don’t hear the same crap twice.”

  “Are you done?” His tone was flat.

  “For now.”

  “Fantastic. Forgive me while I pick this apart. What happened to your brother?”

  That nagging hesitation was back, making her doubt her self-assurance. “You need to read the script more closely next time. Hare knew.”

  “Wayne never told me anything about a brother. He suspected your enthusiasm for the subject matter was more than idle curiosity, that you were too driven for it to be otherwise, but he said you never gave him a story beyond because I want to know, that’s why.”

  All this information—figuring out where to look and what to hear and who to trust—was going to give her vertigo. “Then how did Hare know Alex...”

  “Was killed by Jabberwock?” Hatter finished for her. “Don’t blame me if I’m wrong, but if that’s what you were going to ask, my guess would be it’s because that’s who Hare works for.”

  “So do you.”

  “Guilty as charged, or those men outside wouldn’t have let me in. Look, Alice—what do I need to prove to you I’m the one telling the truth?”

  She clenched her jaw. “You could start by calling me by my name.”

  “Sorry. Habit. That’s what Wayne always called you, so it’s what’s stuck in my head.”

  Wayne did always call her that. Hare never had. More confusion sank in.

  Hatter stood and crossed the room. He extended his hand. “My name’s Blake Allen. It’s nice to meet you, Reagan.”

  “Sure it is.” She shook his hand, distrust and chaos raging in her head. “Let’s say I pick your version of the story over Hare’s. Why are you telling me any of this? Are you hoping to convince me to run?”

  “God, no. A few days ago, that was the plan. Now, you’re in a lot deeper than you should be. It’s going to take time to figure out how to extract you.”

  “Extract me? Who are you? You work for Jabberwock, but your friends with Wayne, but you have some miracle master plan to take me away from this fucked-up reality. Oh, God, I’m imagining you, aren’t I? There was something in the wine.”

  Blake stared at her, lips pursed.

  “Are you going to answer my questions?” she asked.

  “Sure. Assuming you meant all of them. I’m Blake Allen—we covered that. You’re not imagining me. And I work for people who want Jabberwock gone. As you can imagine, he doesn’t know that, and I’d like to keep it that way. And no, I’m not a figment of your imagination. Are we on the same page?”

  “If I say yes, what am I supposed to do until this mystical extraction happens? Play along with Hare? Pretend this is all fine?”

  Hatter—Blake—nodded. “You looked like you were doing all right at the country club.”

  “Because I didn’t know who Hare was until I saw you. Now I don’t know who either of you is.”

  He crouched, to look her in the eye. “I don’t have a lot of answers either. But I’ll tell you everything I know. I have to leave now, but my shift to keep an eye on you starts tomorrow, and I’ll answer any questions I can when I return.”

  “Convenient. So just like that, you pop in here, feed me a bunch of crap, and then leave.” This was too much. She couldn’t think with the contradictory and convenient information he and Hare gave her.

  He handed her a business card. “Memorize this, then destroy the card. Call me from a landline if you need me. One that’s not in this motel. And don’t run once I’m gone. I won’t stop you, but the men watching your room will.”

  “Why?” She didn’t understand that. If she wasn’t a prisoner, why put so much effort into keeping her here?

  “Because someone is looking for you, and they know how to spot an unwelcome tail. If you give us the slip, we can’t guarantee whoever else is out there won’t take you out in an instant.”

  Reagan didn’t have a response for that. Not having seen evidence that supported his claim. “All right. I’ll stay put.”

  She showed him to the door, and latched every possible lock after he was gone. She slid a chair under the door handle, then collapsed on the bed, fully clothed. She stared at the ceiling, hoping it would give her answers.

  Blake’s story rang true. It was solid, even if it was a repeat of one she’d already heard. But if he was honest with her, her instinct for who was right and wrong was so out of whack, she’d let Hare lead her around for the last several days and never questioned it
, because he knew some key snippets of information about her relationship with Alex.

  Which meant she was a shitty judge of character, no matter whom she believed. Unless they were both lying. That would make more sense. Not that she understood what the point would be. She was a lowly Master’s student from Nowhere-ville, whose only connection to something exciting was that her brother was killed by a mob boss.

  She didn’t have a fascinating life of her own. Why would they put her through any of this? If she could figure out motivation, it would give her a direction to look. Without it, she only had a name. The one name she’d had all along, that hadn’t gotten her anywhere.

  But that wasn’t true. She had Blake’s name now. She hoped. And though she didn’t have Hare’s real name, everyone they encountered so far called him Hare. That was more than she’d ever had before.

  Next thing she needed was a computer. If it was true that the motel was being watched, would they follow her when she left? She’d need to eat in the morning, and Blake said he’d be back then. It seemed like an appropriate time to find out what happened if she wandered out in public.

  If she was going to do this, she needed sleep. Not the half-assed stuff she’d had for the past week, but real, solid sleep.

  She stripped out of her clothes, climbed under the covers, and willed herself to pass out.

  She stared at the clock instead, watching it tick past midnight, then toward morning. She dozed off sometime around five. When she pried her eyes open, the clock read 8:14. Her neck felt like someone had shoved a rod down her back, then bent it. New plan—down a bottle of ibuprofen from the motel drugstore first, then get breakfast and find out how close an eye they kept on her.

  A shower helped ease some of the aches but didn’t chase away the exhaustion. Fortunately, a thrum of tension ran through her, keeping her jittery regardless of the tiredness. If she could grab some coffee, the bigger the better, she might not have to sleep again for a couple of days.

  She dressed in the one casual outfit she had—she’d need to find the laundry in this place—grabbed her purse and the stack of cash Hare gave her, and headed out. As she stepped outside, she surveyed the parking lot. There were a couple of cars with a person each. Most of the vehicles were empty. She didn’t see anyone else. Were these the people watching her? Did she get a lapse in security?