“You never need to thank me for doing my job.”
“I know, but I want to.”
He rested his palm on my shoulder. “Let’s take you home.”
“I want to wait for Blake.” Oh, how I wished they would let him go. I hated knowing that he was in that building, and that I had to walk away from him right now.
“He’ll be home soon. And I’ll stay there as long as either of you need me.”
I stood firm, unwilling to leave. His countenance was pinched. “You should rest, Erica.”
Hearing him say my name almost threatened to unleash another wave of tears. Another minute passed and my shoulders sagged.
“Okay,” I finally said, and let him take me home.
CHAPTER FIVE
BLAKE
The interrogation room was cold, lit by harsh fluorescents. Nothing about it was designed to make a person feel comfortable, yet I was decidedly far from seeking comfort, unless it was in the form of physically removing the smug look from Evans’s face. I hadn’t liked him the moment I saw him. Instinct immediately warned that he was going to cause me nothing but trouble. Rarely were my instincts far off, and now we were several hours into him giving me trouble.
Dean Gove—my attorney and, for all intents and purposes, my longtime friend—sat beside me, looking both bored and unsettled. We hadn’t had a chance to speak freely yet, but nothing substantial had materialized in the time I’d been here. At Evans’s request, I’d detailed the timeline of the honeymoon and travel schedule. I had nothing to hide there. We discussed business, mine and Erica’s. That was straightforward enough. We discussed my history with Fitzgerald, which was carefully edited to omit the laundry list of felonies I knew he’d committed, not the least of which was homicide. For all Evans knew, Daniel was simply the biological father of my wife, though no doubt Evans suspected more. I was hoping he would steer the conversation toward the actual election soon, the details of which would explain why we were having this conversation at all.
After a brief break, Evans returned with two Styrofoam cups of coffee and a manila envelope tucked under his arm. He set one cup in front of me. Out of sheer boredom, I accepted it. The dark liquid was scalding hot and tasted like it had been on the burner for hours. I set it back down with a grimace.
“This isn’t your first brush with computer fraud, is it, Blake?”
Dean leaned in. “Don’t answer that.”
No shit. I glared into Evans’s small eyes. He already knew about my past, I had little doubt.
I’d been nabbed for hacking as a teenager. Back then when the feds brought me in, I’d cooperated. The charges were dropped, and the records were sealed because I was a minor. Rumors lingered, though, especially when a year later I produced the most sophisticated banking software on the market, thanks to my extensive experience in compromising what was already out there at the time.
Whatever Evans knew had to be the result of the FBI’s desire to come back and get their pound of flesh. I’d gotten away with my freedom, while others had lost so much more. Still, he wasn’t supposed to know about any of it, and I certainly wasn’t going to offer it up.
“Fuck you,” I said.
He laughed, shaking his head. He spun the folder on the table in front of him. My curiosity piqued, but the folder couldn’t contain any actual evidence against me. He was taunting me.
“Let’s try this again. You wrote the earliest software created for Banksoft, right?”
I paused. “Yes.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you had what one would call ‘specialized knowledge’ of banking software at that point, isn’t that right?”
The asshole was persistent, but I was willing to bet only one person in the room had a genius IQ. “Get to the point.”
“Interestingly enough, there is shared code between certain types of banking software and the software that’s used to run voting machines.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Any programmer worth his salt knew that. Evans was clearly enjoying this foray into technical jargon, but I was quickly becoming bored with it and hoped he’d get to the fucking point.
He smirked. “I’m sure you are.”
I willed my fists not to clench under the table.
“Blake, we’ve been looking at the binaries that were installed onto the voting machines, and we found something interesting. The encryption routine used is the same one you designed ten years ago… for Banksoft.”
That would certainly explain why I was here.
“Show me the rest of it,” I said in a controlled tone.
He drummed his fingers on the envelope, glancing down at it. “It’s being carefully reviewed by our team.”
I ground my teeth down and registered the twitch in my jaw as I did. Something about the past few minutes had become all too familiar. Assumptions made, accusations thrown, and a bunch of men in suits trying their damnedest to back me into a corner. Fear knotted in my stomach. But I wasn’t a kid anymore, and I wasn’t going to be intimidated into a bad situation, especially for something I had no part in.
Evans spun the folder methodically and waited, as if he was expecting me to crack.
I leaned in, increasingly pissed now that he was withholding information that would clear this up for me. “Listen to me. It’s a small miracle your team was able to identify the encryption and match it to my code. Let me see the rest of it, and I’ll show you what you’re not finding.”
Evans bared his teeth with a sneer. “Wouldn’t that be convenient?”
“For both of us, it would seem.” I stifled a growl. I wanted to wring this guy’s neck.
“How about you tell me who rigged the machines?”
I sat back and let out a short laugh.
“Did you have help?”
“I have no fucking idea what you’re even asking right now.”
Evans’s expression grew less mocking and more serious. “It’s pretty simple. If you didn’t do this, who did?”
I had a few ideas. Someone who did sloppy work and had retribution on the mind. Someone who’d love to know I was sitting here, getting grilled by the FBI. But still, I couldn’t be sure.
I couldn’t take credit for the skewed election results, but I hadn’t always been so innocent. And Evans wasn’t the only one who knew it.
I’d been a troubled adolescent—aimless, angry, and too intellectual for my own good. When I’d joined the hacker group M89, the few members in its ranks had been wreaking havoc on small websites with minimal impact. Brian Cooper was the group’s leader, and together we came up with a plan that I had the expertise to put into action. A group of Wall Street executives were trying to ruin the whistle-blowers threatening to expose their Ponzi scheme. It was a small story in the news, buried under hundreds of other stories of injustice in the world, and together we’d decided to do something about it… something big.
The code I’d ultimately write would deplete the bank accounts of those executives and fund our group to do more, to punish the people who deserved to lose everything they’d stolen. Except weeks before we were ready to act, the plan changed. Brian wanted to broaden the net and use the code to skim small amounts from other accounts, accounts held by people who hadn’t done anything wrong other than trust those execs with their retirement money.
I was young and bent on a misguided kind of justice, but what Brian wanted wasn’t justice. I refused to go through with it, so we parted ways. When Brian released the code, the feds caught us both. Scared as I’d been, I’d told the truth, and when they turned to Brian for answers, he didn’t last long. He’d taken his own life days after we were taken into custody, an outcome that I’d spent too many hours since wondering if I could have prevented.
Trevor was Brian’s younger brother. Not unlike Brian, he’d turned into an amateur miscreant, fueled more by vengeance than skill. He’d dedicated his life to ruining me because of Brian’s death. His stunts aimed at fucking with my businesses, or Erica’s, had grown
in scope over time, but this might be beyond even him.
“Show me the code, Evans, and I can probably figure it out for you.”
He was still a moment and finally stood, his chair screaming along the concrete floor. “We’ve got you on this, Blake. One way or the other, you’re going down. You should figure out now how you want to play it. Let me know when you want to talk.”
“If you had anything on me, I’d be in handcuffs.”
“You’re one of the only people with access to the original source code.”
“Banksoft has more than ten thousand employees. I’m sure a few of them have access. Why don’t you start there?”
He bent and placed his hands on the table. “Because they don’t have a motive. An election is rigged right in your backyard, guaranteeing your father-in-law the governor’s seat. All signs point to you, a known hacker.”
“Rumored,” I clarified. “And you’re overlooking one minor detail. I wasn’t in the fucking country when it happened.”
“You have a whole team working for you, trained by you, paid to do your bidding. I wouldn’t be surprised if a man of your means decided not to handle a matter of this nature personally.”
He was dead wrong there. If I had done it, I sure as hell would have taken care of it personally. But I hadn’t, and the fact that they could turn their focus on any of the people who worked for me only spiked my growing irritation.
“If you’re so convinced I’m behind this, prove it. Open up that little envelope of yours and let’s see it.”
Picking up the envelope, he straightened. “Trust me, I plan to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re behind this.”
Dean rose beside me. “Sounds like you haven’t yet, so I think we’re finished here.”
* * *
The drive home from the station was long, but somehow not long enough. Not enough road to settle the thoughts blasting through my brain. Dean drove me home in silence. I had no desire to talk after hours of questioning.
My first impression of Agent Evans had proven accurate. He was a pissant of a human, and cocky to boot. He thought a shiny badge and a cheap suit gave him authority. He wielded whatever information he had with nauseating swagger, his only real power built on a foundation of inefficient bureaucracy and a sliver of information that he shouldn’t even have access to. He’d damned me before he’d stepped through the front door.
I remembered men like him, droves of them who’d been brought in to intimidate me and the others in the original M89 group. Now they were demanding that I supply them with a lie that would damn myself. I’d harnessed every ounce of willpower I possessed not to give him an answer that would physically shut him up.
If not for Dean’s reassurances and the fact that I trusted him more than I trusted almost anyone, I would have told Evans to fuck himself, gone home to Erica, and waited for my name to clear on its own.
“They’ll want to talk to your family tomorrow to establish a timeline.”
Dean broke my internal tirade as I stared out the window. They’d involved Erica, and now the rest of my family would be subjected to this goddamn odyssey.
“They’ll cooperate.”
“I figured as much. I’m more concerned with what the feds are going to find on your machines at the office.”
I stared at the man beside me. He was older than me, but had a youthful look about him. It was almost disarming, until you learned firsthand how shrewd he could be.
“Is this time for my confession?”
He let out a short laugh. “Might be a good time for it, so I can be prepared for whatever they throw at us. I would have liked to have talked to you before Evans pounced, but you did well in there. They definitely don’t have anything on you yet, which is promising. He seems determined, however.”
“They’re not going to find anything. I’m always careful.”
We never discussed it at length, but Dean understood. I’d even helped him through a few tough cases by accessing files that he’d never have been able to uncover on his own—legally, anyway. I paid him well, but he owed me. Whatever went down here, he wouldn’t sleep until it was resolved. That much I knew.
“They won’t just be looking for a tie to the voting machines, Blake. They’ll be looking for anything. Any instance of wrongdoing to hold you. Do you understand that?”
I fisted my hand on my lap. Fucking FBI. Even though I’d been creative with my fact-finding on occasion, I’d never truly believed that I would have to face them again. Not like this.
“I guess they’ll find what they find then.”
Dean slowed to a stop behind the Escalade already parked in the driveway. “I need to know if they’re going to find anything that we need to take care of.”
“I’m careful, Dean, all right? I’ve been doing this all my life, and I know how to cover my tracks. Whatever they find will be bullshit. Easy to brush away.”
“I hope you’re right, because if they find a pinch of evidence, they’re going to turn it into a lot more than you might expect.”
I clamped my jaw tight. What a fucking mess this could turn into… and for what? Someone who either wanted Daniel to win, or to ultimately lose over all of this.
“What is Fitzgerald saying?” I asked.
“I’ll find out soon. I’m guessing he had a long day at the station too. I plan to get more information from his camp tomorrow and gauge his position. Do you think he’ll try to implicate you?”
“If it saves his ass, he would.” I’d have liked to think he wouldn’t for Erica’s sake, but the man had no soul. I couldn’t take anything for granted.
“I guess we’ll find out in the morning. Let’s meet at my office early and start running through everything.”
I sighed and stepped out of the car, eager for a breath of fresh air. Hours in a cage with a steady diet of subpar coffee. I was edgy and needed to get away from all of it. Before I shut the door, Dean called out.
“Blake?”
I leaned down and peered into the car. “What?”
“Don’t lose any sleep over this, okay? You know me. I’m just trying to be thorough. We’ll figure it out.”
CHAPTER SIX
BLAKE
Inside the silence was broken only by the low rumble of the waves crashing against the seawall. A storm was coming in. Upstairs I found Erica sleeping in our bed. I went into the adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower, wanting to wash away the shittiest day on recent record.
Under the water, I tried to take Dean’s parting advice and let everything go, at least for tonight. But there was no way. Evans’s questions and his condescending fucking face filled up my thoughts. Every contingency plan spun through my head. I replayed every hack I’d executed that could possibly trace back to me. Sure, a part of me took for granted that I was good enough never to get caught again. But here I was… under the microscope of the authorities… again.
The feds had come after me and Brian Cooper years ago, and when it was all said and done, he had taken his own life. Ours had been a friendship gone wrong, and the day he died, everything changed. I changed.
When the FBI let me go all those years ago, I didn’t register relief. Only guilt, frustration, and, eventually, renewed determination. I hadn’t sworn off hacking, but I’d sworn I’d never get caught again. And I’d sworn no one would ever meet the same fate Brian had because of me. When I meddled, I worked alone, and when it came to the business, my team played it straight with no exceptions.
My reputation had already been tainted, so I held myself to a different standard. Some might call what I did cheating, but I wasn’t above circumventing the systems that society put in place to keep the truth beyond reach. It wasn’t my fault the people building the systems weren’t smart enough to keep them from being vulnerable.
When I met Michael Pope, he took that philosophy and turned it into purpose. He’d seen an opportunity that someone with my particular talents could take advantage of. I didn’t care about
his money, and he knew it. I’d had no interest in spending my life building software for corporations, but he made me realize that doing it once, the right way, would give me freedom… the kind of freedom I’d been thirsting for. Now, out of nowhere, my freedom was in question again. And I had a hell of a lot more to lose.
I toweled off and returned to the bedroom. I had no chance for sleep, but seeing Erica curled up in our bed reminded me that even a few seconds beside her might bring me down. I slid behind her quietly, breathing her in. A mix of shampoo and her natural scent. I wasn’t sure what it was about the way she smelled, but as soon as she was in my lungs, something in my muscles released. I held her closer, wanting more of that magic only she could wield over me. She moaned quietly, a sound that went directly to my groin.
She turned to me with tired eyes. “Blake.” Her voice was hoarse from sleep.
She was stretched out on her back, wearing only a black tank and a pair of black lace panties that I wanted to peel off with my teeth.
“You’re back.” She slid her hand up my bare chest.
I brushed a soft kiss against her lips. “I’m back.”
“Is everything okay? What happened?” Her eyes were wider now, more alert.
The concern in her voice was evident, and as much I wanted to calm my own fears, I wanted to obliterate hers.
“Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep, baby. We can talk tomorrow.”
I skimmed down her bare arms, unsuccessful in my attempts not to take in every curve. God, she was beautiful. More than that, she was my salvation.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
She guided me back down to her lips, which I fully welcomed. I want to let her rest, but my body wasn’t going to allow it. She wasn’t making it easy either, sliding the tip of her silky tongue over my bottom lip before biting it gently. I groaned and took her mouth in a long and hard kiss, channeling all the day’s frustrations into our connection.
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