“How much is that apartment she lives in?” Someone had to ask the question. Miguel clasped his hands together and his face muscles pulled taut.
“A lot.” Dash wasn’t the least bit defensive. It was gospel truth: Layla had champagne taste.
He’d been a hotshot at a Tech firm once, and had been plucked out of IT and dropped straight into app development. In five years, he’d applied for eleven patents—a company record. He’d decided to walk away and develop software on his own. After hitting it big, he bought out the noncompete lawsuit and banked enough cash to get him through several lifetimes. There was a point when money just became zeroes in a bank account. They didn’t change someone’s worth or make the person better than anyone else. But money did give freedom, and that was how Dash could afford to live in an apartment like this, drive any car he desired and still work in a job that paid less than what he was used to paying in taxes from his software income.
“She likes nice things. Doesn’t make her a criminal.” Lorelai, who’d been quiet up to now, threw her hands up in the air.
“And she wouldn’t use her own password,” Liam insisted.
“The other problem, once investigators started looking into Layla’s personal computer, is that they discovered how much she loves the dark web.” His sister was also brilliant enough to outsmart the system. If she had taken the money—and he wasn’t saying she had—making herself a target would also mean she’d be investigated and released early in the process. Now that he really thought about it, sticking it to the system might be implicating herself and then proving she didn’t do it.
“I heard about her affinity for all things dark on the web.” Lorelai’s arms were crossed over her chest, her expression serious. She could be the poster child for the FBI, in her navy pantsuit and shoulder holster. In fact, he was pretty sure she’d been asked. “Let’s talk about a hacker’s psychology for a second.”
“A hacker is someone who is manipulative, deceitful, exploitative, cynical and insensitive,” Madeline supplied. “Generally driven by a need for peer recognition and respect.”
“That doesn’t describe Layla,” Liam stated.
“My sister wouldn’t take other people’s money.” Dash hoped the decisiveness in his voice and the fact that he didn’t hesitate in his response would win his sister a few points with Lorelai. He’d spent the last couple of days trying to track down the unsub on his own, without any luck. He’d asked his boss for time off from work, but Miguel declined the request. Said Dash would get further using BAU resources than he would on his own. The rub? They would look at the case like she was guilty.
“Will she give us unfettered access to all her devices?” Lorelai asked. Her eyebrow arched.
“I can ask her.” Dash figured the answer would be a resounding hell no. He’d figure out a way to convince Layla. No choice there. And he wasn’t just talking about the technology issued by her job—she would have her own devices.
“Just to be clear—your sister is presently incarcerated,” Lorelai clarified.
“Yes, ma’am.” The ma’am bit was probably unnecessary. It wasn’t her favorite term. Lorelai must have gotten the message, as her back straightened a little more.
“Clear me from all other cases. I feel that I’m in a position to help Dash the most,” Liam announced.
Lorelai shot a look at Liam that would freeze hell over. Dash hadn’t meant to add to the tension brewing between them with his own problem: a sister he needed to figure out how to rein in as much as he needed to save. But then, he’d been trying to protect Layla ever since their parents died.
“I’ve met your sister. I have enough coffee to keep me going for a couple of days.” Liam cracked his knuckles. “You can count on any and all of the tech skills I have to help free Layla.”
His fiancée shot daggers at him. She pursed her lips together and dropped her gaze to the wooden table.
“Has your sister pissed anyone off lately?” Nicholas had been quiet up to this point.
“As in, someone who would want to set her up?” Dash asked.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. We all know she wouldn’t be stupid or clumsy enough to hand over her passwords to anyone,” Nicholas surmised.
“I plan to visit her to ask. But she hasn’t mentioned anyone.” A wave of guilt washed over Dash. He should have known more about his sister’s personal life. She’d been quiet lately, and it was all too easy for him to get busy with his own life. Life? He almost laughed out loud. Work might be a better word choice.
“Could be someone in her office who wanted her job or had it in for her,” Nicholas said.
“That’s an angle worth exploring.” Dash nodded. He stared at the manila folder sitting in front of him. “Since you’re all investigating my sister—” he put his forefingers and thumbs on the corners of the folder and then pushed it toward the center of the table “—you should know about her past.”
Everyone stared at it for a long moment like it was a bomb about to detonate. Liam made the first move. He opened the folder.
“She has a juvie record?” Liam closed the file. “Wouldn’t that record be sealed?”
“Not in this room, it isn’t.” They needed her history to create the best-possible profile on her. Do that and they would learn the way she thought. Learn the way she thought, and they could come at this from her perspective. “Open it.”
On a sharp sigh, Liam picked up the manila folder and then opened it again.
“Go ahead,” Dash urged. “Read it out loud so everyone can hear.”
“Is that really—”
“Yes. If you’re going to help, you need to know her past.”
“She works in the financial industry. Don’t they perform background checks?” Lorelai asked.
“Good question. Layla hacked into the juvenile justice system and finagled her records. The one in Liam’s hands is probably the only correct piece of information you’ll ever find. That’s the reason you need to hear it. See it. Memorize it. When I leave this room, it goes with me and that’s the last you’ll ever see of it.”
“She spent time in juvie for petty burglary at sixteen years old,” Liam noted.
“That’s right.” Dash wasn’t one for words and he’d already spoken more than he cared to in a day. A dull ache was forming behind his eyes. And this day was just getting started. “Our dad died in a car crash. Things got out of hand at home. Layla went down a bad path and got herself into trouble. She started with small stuff and moved up to petty burglary, which is when she got caught.”
“Everyone processes pain differently,” Liam said defensively.
“Yes. But not everyone acts out by committing a crime.” Dash hadn’t been there for her in the way he should have been.
“Your sister is a good person,” Liam stated.
“I won’t disagree with you there. She became a handful in her teen years, and I’m lucky all she got caught for was the burglary.”
“Is that when you stepped into the picture?” Liam asked.
“Yes.” Dash had inherited his very sullen, very bullheaded younger sister, who came to him cool on the surface and a mess underneath. She had more walls erected than a construction site. Dash wasn’t so great with words, which made helping her that much more challenging.
“How’d she turn it around?” Miguel asked.
“I did for her what the military did for me. Gave her structure and enough physical work every day for her to flop into bed every night exhausted. Then I’d drag her out of bed every morning before the sun for a workout.” Dash hadn’t known what to do with her emotions. She wasn’t one to talk either. No sitting up all night braiding hair at sleepovers for that kid. All he knew was physical labor, and she had responded to it.
“You have my assurance that if your sister is innocent—and we have to operate as though she may not be
—we’ll find the proof and clear her name,” Miguel said. “In the meantime, keep us up to date with everything you find.”
“Yes, sir.” The may not be echoed in Dash’s head. As far as probabilities went, he was 96 percent certain Layla was innocent. It was the 4 percent that worried him. His baby sister had always had that edge to her, and he’d gone through hell and back to get her on the right side of the law when she was sixteen. The 4 percent that would keep him awake at night was that Layla really did like the finer things. She’d been keeping to herself lately. Secretive. Something was going on with her and, again, he’d had no idea how to approach the subject with her.
As the room cleared, Dash had another realization. Dammit, he was going to need to talk to Raina Andress—not only was she Layla’s BFF but she was also a tech guru. She must be trying to clear Layla, too, and he needed all hands on deck for this assignment. Plus, he didn’t want them accidentally tripping over each other or duplicating work.
After what had happened between them, would she even talk to him? He could swing by her office and try to force her into a conversation. She worked at the same firm as Layla, just in a different department. Dash picked up the manila folder and stuffed it inside his jacket. Raina wasn’t going to be happy about seeing him again. He’d made sure of it during their last conversation.
First up, though, he needed to speak to Layla’s boss.
Copyright © 2021 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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ISBN-13: 9780369703989
No Reason to Trust
First published as Never Say Die in 1992. This edition published in 2021.
Copyright © 1992 by Terry Gerritsen
Witness Protection
First published in 2014. This edition published in 2021.
Copyright © 2014 by Barb Han
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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No Reason to Trust Page 43