To Trick a Hacker: Women of Purgatory 3

by India Kells

  Dylan glared at her. “Even if she hacked the police report, she wouldn’t have possibly known about that. So, your suggestion is not helping.”

  Mac pouted. “I’m mainly here to get a better perspective. You said so yourself. That’s the job of the sniper.”

  “Yeah, remind me to thank you for your investigative technique work. If it’s the one you used with Calvi, no wonder you needed my help.”

  “Hey! That’s below the belt!” The redhead smiled broadly at her teasing.

  “Girls, please, you’re making more noise than my three boys in the kitchen.”

  Dylan smiled at Mary and ignored the frustration bubbling inside of her. “Sorry. I don’t like a puzzle, and that one is the mother of all. Trying to find someone who doesn’t want to be found.”

  “Something you have done countless times, from what my boys have told me.”

  Dylan glanced at Lance who probably made sure not to look in her direction. “Certain of your boys blabber too much.”

  Mary laughed and sat in the stuffed chair in front of her. “They don’t, but as a mother, I have the special ability to get the information I want. And I’m good at puzzles, maybe I can help.”

  Dylan didn’t want to appear rude, and Mary was not to be deterred. That balancing act was tricky. “Well, we’re searching for a girl who appears to be no more than twenty. Cute but not beautiful, brown hair without any distinctive marker.”

  “Maybe where you saw her could give you a clue of where she might be.”

  Dylan hesitated and looked at Mac for an escape when Owen came into the living room and answered for her.

  “Maison Amaryllis was the last place she had been seen.”

  Lance and Wesley followed him. Lance wiped his hand on his brother’s back who swatted at him like a fly. The mood was still playful, but now Dylan was holding her breath, her eyes solely on Owen, silently supporting him. He could choose not to divulge anything. There was always a way to provide information without going into details. Too bad it wasn’t Owen’s style.

  Ignoring her sons, Mary leaned forward. “I have heard about that place! Many women I know whisper about it but none of them had the courage to go. That’s where you went last night? To see if you could catch her?”

  Dylan shook her head. “No, I didn’t know she would be in there. It was a surprise. I came prepared, but when I realized she was the one I was looking for, I did everything in my power to catch her. But she blindsided me.”

  Wesley sat near Mac who didn’t turn to him. She was probably waiting for Owen’s cue, if it ever came. Lance leaned on the wall near the kitchen. Waiting, observing. Very unlike him. The man had an uncanny ability to detect any disturbance in the force.

  Wesley leaned forward. “You should have told us about your plan, Dylan. It wasn’t very wise to go there without backup.”

  “She had backup. Me.” Owen didn’t move, standing between her and his mother.

  Wesley turned to him, frowning. “The way you were dressed when you both left, you looked more like a banker than a backup. What the hell the suit was for?”

  Before Owen could open his mouth, Dylan tried to deflect. “He was to enter as a supplier, some sort of seller, distracting the boss, so I could access her office and computer.”

  Wesley looked like he was accepting her reason, but Owen had made a decision.

  “That’s not the truth.”

  Wesley was about to say something, but Mary shifted in her seat. She had certainly sensed the restlessness in her son too.

  “What’s wrong, Owen, my boy? Since you returned last night, you’re out of sorts, and didn’t speak a word about it.”

  Owen turned to his mother, taking a ragged breath, hands fisted to his side. His mother wanted to stand up, but he shook his head.

  “There is something I didn’t tell you. Something from the past. I didn’t tell you, any of you, because … I guess I was a coward about it. I didn’t have the courage to stand up for what I had done.”

  From the corner of her eye, Dylan saw Wesley straighten up and Lance become even more alert. Both brothers stayed silent. Mac slightly scooted to Dylan’s side, offering silent support.

  “Do you remember when Wesley and Lance went back to college? I was seventeen, and Dad came to see you?”

  The air was still and became so thick, Dylan had trouble breathing. Wesley silently got to his feet, but say a word.

  “Oh, Owen, my son. I remember. He had found us, and wanted money. I had hoped you hadn’t heard what was said, or even seen him.”

  Mary came to her feet and extended her hand, but Owen took a step back. “I heard him and I saw him. I knew he threatened you to take me away if you didn’t pay him money.”

  “What?” Both Lance and Wesley took a step forward. But it was Lance who turned to his mother.

  “Mom, why didn’t you tell us? We would have come back. What did he do to you?”

  “That wasn’t necessary, he came and posed that threat, but never contacted me again. He was probably drunk … it doesn’t matter anymore.”

  Owen shook his head. “It does, Mom, because I’m the reason why he never came back.”

  Wesley frowned at his youngest brother. “What do you mean? And don’t tell me you killed the bastard.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Owen continued to only look at his mother as he answered his brother. “When you locked yourself in your room, I ran out of the house and stopped him just as he was getting in his car. I told him to leave you alone. He said that unless you paid up, he would come back, accuse you of kidnapping and take me away. That’s when I proposed to pay him.”

  Frowning, Wesley glanced at his mother before turning to his brother. “And with what money?”

  Owen tensed, but didn’t look at Wesley—his eyes stayed steadily on his mother.

  “I knew I had to find money fast. And I couldn’t earn enough even if I worked around the clock.” He breathed deeply. “That’s when, one evening, I went to Maison Amaryllis, offering my services.”

  At that moment, Dylan’s heart broke for the desperate teenager Owen had been. She wanted to get up and go to him, but she was an outsider of what was unfolding before her. It needed to be done. Without her interference.

  Mary seemed confused for a moment. “You went to work for Maison Amaryllis. You knew this was a brothel, Owen.”

  Wesley cursed and Lance looked too taken aback to even utter a sound.

  “Yes, Mom. I knew. I was underage, but I didn’t look like that young. I convinced the owner to take me in. To … teach me. She accepted. So, month after month, I worked evenings and nights, transferring funds to our father’s account to keep him off your back. I did it until my transfer bounced. That’s when I learned that he had died in a drunken car crash. I knew you were safe. I did continue to work a while longer, helping out a friend.” He glanced at Dylan, and that’s when she knew he was referring to Margot. “And when I finally received my letter of admission from the Navy, I quit. Completely. I returned last night because the person we are searching for was using the network there. I knew the owner, so it was an easy introduction to gain access.”

  Mary stayed silent, a stunned expression on her face as she silently slid back in her chair. Dylan found difficult to decipher what she was thinking. Her blank face was so similar to Owen’s at that moment, it was hard to know where the wind would blow. It was Wesley who stepped forward, fury pouring off him. Fury and hurt. Mac took her hand and Dylan let her. The other woman knew she couldn’t intervene, not yet, and it tore at her as much as it tore at Dylan’s.

  The oldest of the Sorenson’s brother wouldn’t be ignored anymore. “What were you thinking, Owen? That’s madness! You selling yourself, like a whore! I never thought you would fall so low. My own brother!” Wesley began pacing, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes. “How could you do that to us, to Mom? And I can’t even believe you can look at her in the eyes after what you did.”

  “You have no right
to judge what I did, Wesley!” Calm and resigned, Owen stood in front of his older brother, but not for much longer.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “About Mom! And you and Lance! You were the only three people in my life that mattered! I was only trying to protect you.”

  “You should have told me, told Lance!”

  Owen seemed on the verge exploding. In desperation, obviously trying to reign in his emotions, he went into the kitchen. As Dylan got unsteadily to her feet, she heard the backdoor slam. Before she could follow him, Wesley was on his heels, steaming mad at his little brother, almost jumping off the small deck in pursuit. Dylan hobbled outside, Mac at her side. Lance sprinted past them, his face still stunned—stunned as his mother, who remained in the living room.

  “Owen! You had no right to do that.” Wesley was relentless, following his brother in the backyard.

  “No right?” Owen turned, the anger on his face making Dylan gasp. It was clear that he was losing his battle against emotions he had kept in check, deep down, for so long. It could turn ugly fast. Mac took a step in the direction of the two brothers, but Dylan signaled her to wait. “You were away, far away! Both of you, I was alone!”

  “You were seventeen, for God’s sake!”

  “Yes, and I needed money to protect Mom from him. I would have done anything, worse than selling myself if that would have meant keeping her safe. You have no right to judge me, Wes, you were not there. I was on my own!”

  Time froze at that moment at the veiled accusation. Wesley roared and charged Owen. Rage filled the air, and two of the finest and most dangerous warriors in the world were at it for blood. Mac screamed, but stayed beside Dylan. And what could be done? Emotions ran deep in this family, and by burying them for so long, an explosion was bound to happen.

  The grunts, the fists hitting skin, bone against bone, the sound was sickening. Dylan was looking for a garden hose, or any brilliant idea to separate them when the back door opened to Mrs. Sorenson followed by Lance.

  “Owen! Wesley! Stop that!” But Lance’s command was deaf to their ears. Dylan had to admire Lance when he jumped into the melee, trying to separate them. Unfortunately, the rescuer turned into an aggressor when one fist connected to his jaw. It was as if something was switched on inside of him, and all hell broke loose. Mrs. Sorenson came to Dylan’s side and grabbed her elbow.

  “They have to stop.” Mac came near her mother-in-law’s and rubbed her back.

  Dylan winced at Wesley punching Lance by mistake. The rescuer was getting more and more pissed at his older brother, and it didn’t help the situation at all.

  “We’re the only ones that can stop them.” Dylan knew it for a fact, but as to the manner, it was still to be found.

  Mac turned to Dylan, eyebrows quirked. “Oh yeah, let’s jump between three angry SEALs fighting one another. I don’t know about you, but I like my head exactly where it’s right now. And my husband’s, too, when he’s not in some rage phase. Something I’ve never seen him in, by the way. Terrifying.”

  Dylan turned to the two other women. “I didn’t say to do something stupid, Mac. Even if the two of us jumped in, it wouldn’t work. They would be more pissed, if anything else. They wouldn’t calm down enough to hear anything sensible.”

  “What’s your idea?”

  Dylan turned to the older woman, who couldn’t tear her gaze from her three beloved sons fighting like lions. And it clicked in her head. “Mrs. Sorenson, you have to faint. And make a show out of it.”

  Mary blinked twice before turning her attention to Dylan. “What? I don’t feel like fainting, I’m fine―”

  “If I faint, it won’t change a thing, if Mac faints, same outcome. But if you faint, the three of them will notice … better, they will panic and unite. That’s what we want from them now. There can be no discussion unless they stop fighting.”

  Dylan risked a look at the three men, and saw blood. “You better do it now before they hurt themselves or do something they would all regret.”

  Mary nodded and took a step forward. Then, she swayed and emitted a sound of distress that sounded so real, Dylan was impressed. When her knees collapsed, Dylan was ready to prevent her from falling with Mac’s help. The first thing she noticed was the silence. Her back to the battleground, Dylan winked at Mac. It was her cue.

  “Oh my God, Mrs. Sorenson! Mac! Call an ambulance!”

  And as she hoped, three running men thundered toward them.

  “Mom! What happened?” Wesley was on his knees by his mother’s side, Owen on the other, and Lance cradled their mother’s head.

  Dylan stepped back and helped Mac back to her feet. Owen checked the pulse on his mother, and right on cue, Mary’s eyelashes fluttered open. In a wavering voice that would make an actress proud, she cleared her throat.

  “My boys, what happened?”

  Lance was frantic. “I don’t know, you fainted. How are you feeling?”

  “Light-headed, sweetheart.” And Mary patted his hand tenderly.

  Owen looked at his older brother, still pale. “Pressure drop, we should bring her to the hospital.”

  Wesley started to nod, frantic, when Mrs. Sorenson touched his cheek. “It must be the sun. It’s a hot day. And I’ve been tending the garden all morning. And when I saw you three fighting … Why were you fighting? Is it because of what Owen did? Because there is nothing worth fighting about at what he did. This is something I already suspected.”

  The three men stopped to breathe. Owen wet his lips. “Mom, you knew?”

  The woman turned to her son. “I know everything about my boys. I knew you changed, Owen, and made some sort of sacrifice, even though I didn’t know what it was.” Owen looked at his mother, and then at his brothers. Wesley shook his head, and Lance simply waited.

  After a long moment, Wesley cleared his throat. “We should get you inside, Mom.”

  “Just let me up. All I need is a cold drink and sitting down for a bit. All of us should sit down.”

  Gently, the three men helped their mother up and inside. Still on the deck, Dylan finally let out a breath of relief. Mac let herself fall on one of the lounge chairs.

  “How did you know it would work? How did you know it would stop them?”

  Dylan hobbled to sit beside her. “Human nature. And being a cop for many years.”

  “You’re my hero.”

  Dylan chuckled. “Yeah, well, our work here is far from done. They’re listening, let’s make sure they understand.”

  Chapter 29

  Dylan closed her laptop and took a deep breath of the warm, dry air. Sitting on a lawn chair in the backyard, she admired the setting sun, so low over the horizon, the blazing sky was fading slowly into a deep midnight blue.

  When everyone had re-entered the house, she made a detour to grab her computer and her phone, before limping into a calmer setting. A lot of explaining needed to be done, words to be said, and she wasn’t part of the Sorenson family. Mac had gone with her husband, allowing Dylan to solely focus on the task at hand.

  For hours, she had wrestled her thoughts away from what might be happening inside, away from Owen. Part of her felt like she was abandoning him, but she suspected that it was a battle he needed to face alone.

  It gave her time to make arrangements for Mary’s protection. She doubted the three brothers would disagree with her, at least for the time being.

  From time to time, she had caught raised voices from inside the house, mostly male, but now, it was quiet. Should I go back inside?

  While debating her options, she heard the screen door open and close. Mary came outside, a glass of iced tea in each hand. Her smile was wobbly, her blue eyes—so like Owen’s—were rimmed with red, but when she sat on the lawn chair beside her, Dylan felt peace emanating from her. The Sorenson matriarch sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

  Immobile, Dylan let her gather her thoughts and enjoy the stillness. A few minutes later, she took a sip of her glass and sighe
d again.

  “What a day! Sometimes, you wake up one morning with a clear idea of what you will do, and then, you get sidetracked, strapped on a race car and taken for a wild ride.”

  The image made Dylan smile, and she took a sip of the sweetened tea. She had been thirsty, but no surprise there; too often she forgot about trivial things such as drinking and eating when she was deep in her digital maze. It had been the same when working a difficult case as a cop.

  “Are there survivors?”

  Mary laughed and took another sip. “All my boys are alive and well, if not a little bruised. That’s the challenge of having three strong children, with very different personalities. They’re discussing now, calmly, and I trust Lance to keep the peace if need be.”