by Clay, Verna
Ann tasted bile at the back of her throat.
"Now, Mrs. Hackstetter, just to make sure you follow through and pay me back, I'm gonna show you a picture of what will happen to Jacob and Julie if you don't have my money in one week." The horrid man lifted a photo.
Ann's stomach wretched and she grabbed her mouth to keep from throwing up. The man slowly lowered the picture. A slight smile creased his face. "I thought that would get your attention. Now, listen close. I'm going to hand you a piece of paper with a bank account number. If the money isn't transferred into that account by…" he looked at his watch, "…two o'clock in exactly one week, be prepared to experience some very unhappy events as far as your loved ones are concerned. And if you go to the police, I will know, because I have eyes everywhere. A peep out of you and what you saw in that picture will look like child's play. And being out of town won't save them." He lifted a gloved hand holding a folded slip of paper.
When Ann didn't move, he said menacingly, "Take it, Mrs. Hackstetter."
Concentrating all of her willpower on making her hand move, she slowly reached toward the open window. The wicked man's hand darted out and shoved the paper into hers. His final words before the window ascended were, "It's been a pleasure doing business with you. After I receive the money, you'll receive a text message that says, 'paid in full'. That's your receipt. I am not a pleasant man, but I do keep my word. You will never hear from me again after your husband's debt is paid."
The Mercedes smoothly pulled from its spot and exited the parking lot. Ann stared blankly at the paper and then mentally talked herself into her car. Open door…get in car…close door. Like an automaton, she stuck the paper in her purse, put the key in the ignition, started her car, and drove back to her cottage. When she pulled in front of her home, she couldn't remember driving there. It was if she had been transported directly after talking to the bad man. You're in shock.
Inhaling gulping breaths, she raced from her car to her tiny front porch. After multiple tries, she finally got her key in the lock. As soon as she stepped inside her cottage she fell to the floor and sobbed. For the next hour she could do nothing but cry. Jerry, what have you done?
Eventually, she dragged herself into a seated position and leaned against the door. Think, Ann. Think. Slowly, her mind returned to reality. Should she go to the police? If she told Jackson or Sage, would they make her go to the police? A peep out of you and what you saw in that picture will look liked child's play. I have eyes everywhere—the words echoed over and over.
She grasped the door handle and pulled herself up. Finally her brain chugged and the niggling of a plan sprouted.
* * *
"Ann, are you feeling okay? You've been looking peaked for a couple of days," Jackson said, concern etching creases at the corners of his eyes.
Rather than pretend she was okay, she replied, "I've been feeling a little under the weather."
Jackson lifted the basket of clean linens she was carrying. I can put these away. You go home and rest and don't think about coming back until you're better."
Instead of arguing, she nodded, "Okay. That's probably for the best."
Back at her cottage, she pulled out the tablet in her nightstand drawer and reread the computer code she'd started writing the horrid day of the visit from the loan shark. Closing her eyes, she focused on what she'd been taught by experts and planned her strategy for hacking Jackson's bank accounts.
Chapter 12: Show Me the Money
The day after Jackson sent her home to rest, Ann was back at work. He had come to the main house mid morning to check on her and let her know he was riding out to round up strays. He'd said if she needed anything she should call him on his cell phone. She'd played the actress, smiling and wishing him a good day. Now, closing his office door, she quickly switched on his computer, punched instructions that would record his keystrokes, switched his machine off again, and hastily left the room.
Two days later, after Jackson left with Sage to travel to Denver to check out a bull they were thinking of going partners on, she slipped into his office. Turning his computer on, she punched in the code that would bypass the normal startup, and went directly to hidden files and folders. Reading her notes and using her hacking expertise, she printed several pages of code that had recorded his keystrokes. Shutting the computer off, she took the pages to the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee, and set about deciphering her printout. Within two hours she knew Jackson's login code and the IDs and passwords to his bank accounts.
Inhaling a calming breath, she decided it was time to call up his accounts and transfer the money to the bad man's account. Back in his office, she fired up his computer and had no trouble getting past his login and into his online banking. She did a double-take at his large balances. He had a ranch account, a renovations account, a retirement account, a personal account, a savings account, and two investment accounts. She finally decided on using the renovations account because it had multiple large transactions with regard to remodeling being done on the ranch hands' living quarters. She had no illusions that the money would not be discovered missing, she only hoped it took some time to find out. Slipping the piece of paper with the bank account number from her pocket, her fingers trembled as she typed the information. In the notation she wrote, "lumber for renovation." After checking the transit routing number and account number several times to make sure she had entered them correctly, she hesitated only a second before pushing the send button.
Quickly signing off, she ran from Jackson's office to the bathroom and threw up. Three hours later she received a text that said, "paid in full."
* * *
Jackson sat behind his computer. The bull he and Sage had purchased a week earlier was being delivered today. He needed to print a check for his share of the purchase price. While he waited for his computer to boot up, he thought about Annie. Something was still wrong. He couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was, but she seemed preoccupied or spaced out most of the time. Sometimes he had to call her name more than once before she responded. He was at a loss as to what to do. He was seriously considering insisting she see Doc Jones.
Turning his attention to his computer, he signed into QuickBooks, prepared the check, and then printed it. His contractor for the remodel had given him a bill for supplies and he decided to check the balance in that account. He accessed the renovations account through the internet and blinked. No way had he spent that much money. He began comparing QuickBooks entries against bank transactions. What the fu...!
He looked at the detail for the last transaction, 'lumber for renovation'. What! I don't even remember making a transfer for that amount. He looked at the date of the transfer and then at his calendar. Shit! I wasn't even here. I was in Denver.
Grabbing his cell phone, he called his bank and asked for the manager. After a frustrating call, he made an appointment to come in and personally meet with the bank president. According to the manager, the transaction had originated from his computer and gone to an overseas account.
When he left his office, he went in search of Annie. It was suppertime and she was just pulling a casserole out of the oven.
She said, "Oh, there you are. I made homemade chicken pot pie. I'll just leave it on the sideboard for you. I'm not hungry so I'll pass on dinner tonight." She looked at him more closely. "What's wrong?"
"Annie, you know the day that Sage and I went to Denver, did anyone come to the house?"
"No. Why?"
"I'm not sure what's going on, but it looks like someone got into one of my bank accounts and stole a large sum of money that day. The bank manager said the transaction originated from my computer." Jackson watched Annie's eyes widen.
"Oh my goodness. That's terrible? No one was here that day."
"I have an appointment with the bank president tomorrow afternoon. Maybe I can get some answers. If not, I may have to involve the FBI."
Annie's face paled. "Oh, Jackson, I feel so bad."
* *
*
Ann sat in a wingback chair beside the window in her darkened bedroom. She'd pulled the curtains open and cranked the window outward to allow the night breeze in. Absentmindedly, she snuggled Spike and petted his silky fur while tears rolled down her cheeks. A cloud passed in front of the moon and an owl hooted. Frogs sang at the river.
Jackson knows he's been robbed. Ann couldn't remember ever feeling this bad. At that moment she hated her dead husband. Sweet Jackson hadn't deserved this, but if she had it to do over again, she'd do the same thing. She would steal from her own grandmother to keep Jacob and Julie safe. A sob wretched itself from her restraint and she set Spike on the floor before clutching her stomach, unable to prevent the sobs bursting forth.
Chapter 13: HFH
Jackson made a phone call to Alligator and he answered on the second ring. "Hey Jackson, good to hear from you. Are you tired of mucking stalls and ready to come back to the Big Apple to wheel and deal?"
"This isn't a pleasure call. I've been robbed and I want your help in finding the culprit."
"Whoa. Don't say anything else. You still got that other phone number I gave you?"
"Yes."
"Call me on it. It's shielded from voyeurs."
"Okay, give me a few minutes to retrieve it."
"I'll be waiting."
Five minutes later Jackson punched the number Alligator had given him a couple years back, saying it was private and asking him to store it away. Jackson knew his friend worked for the government and since he was always so hush hush about his work, he figured it had to be with the FBI, CIA, or something of that sort.
Alligator picked up. "Okay, buddy, tell me what's up."
"Like I said, I've been robbed."
"How much?"
"Fifty thousand."
Alligator whistled. "When did it happen?"
"Eight days ago. I've been to the bank and they said the transaction originated from my own computer. They're doing their own investigation. Before I make a stink, I want to see what they come up with. I know you have inside contacts so maybe you can give me some advice."
"Tell me exactly what happened."
Jackson detailed everything he knew. "Annie said no one came to the house that day. I guess people can figure this stuff out from a remote site," he finished.
"Er…Jackson, I think you need to sit down for this."
"What? Tell me what's on your mind."
"I know you have feelings for Annie–"
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
"Let me finish."
"Okay. Okay."
"When I came to visit and you introduced me to Annie or Ann Hackstetter, the name seemed familiar. After I got back to New York, I pulled some files. I could only get the basics because my clearance isn't high enough…but it was enough to find out what I suspected. Anyway, are you sitting down?"
"Shit, Alligator. I'm sitting down. Spit it out."
"Ann Hackstetter goes by the handle, 'Hack'. She's a genius at hacking computers. She was a member of an elite organization called HFH, which stands for Hackers from Hell. You don't join that organization unless you're invited…and you have to be the cream of the crop to be invited. It's her. I saw her picture."
The cell phone went silent.
"Are you still there, Jackson?"
Silence.
"Do I need to call the paramedics?"
Jackson croaked, "You're bullshitin' me, right?"
"Wish I were."
"How long have you known this?"
"I finished my investigation about a week ago."
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
"Yeah, I was just waiting for the right time."
"Looks like you found it."
"Yeah. I'm sorry. I'll alert my supervisors. They'll probably have someone from the Denver office pick her up for questioning."
"No! Don't alert anyone yet."
"What! You've just been ripped off of fifty G's and you've got a notorious hacker living under your roof who can steal with her eyes closed, and you don't want to do anything? Are you sleeping with her?"
"No! I just need time to think. Promise me you'll keep quiet until I give you the go ahead."
"You are one love sick puppy. Okay, my lips are sealed for now. Of course, that puts my job on the line if anyone finds out I'm withholding info."
"I don't know what to say, except thanks."
"I'll expect a call every couple days so I know what's going on."
"I understand. I'll talk to you soon." Jackson terminated the call and ran a hand through his hair. What the hell am I going to do?
Chapter 14: Mud Madness
Ann glanced at the ominous sky. Swirling clouds released droplets that splattered her forehead as she rushed from her cottage to the main house. She'd forgotten the bag of snacks she'd promised Spike. Maybe she could grab them before the rain came down full force.
A thunderbolt ripped the clouds open when she unlatched the gate and sprinted toward the back door. Hurrying through the mud room, she pushed the laundry door open and grabbed the kitty snacks. As an afterthought, she decided to check the refrigerator for eggs to see if she needed to bring a carton from her cottage in the morning. She entered the kitchen and stopped dead.
Jackson, bare-footed, naked to the waist, and leaning against the island, gave her a startled look. His belt was gone and his Levis road low on his hips. Standing beside him lifting a beer to her mouth and wearing his shirt, and nothing else, was Pritzy Purvis.
"Hi Annie," said the tall, leggy beauty, and giggled.
Ann looked from Pritzy to Jackson and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Any ridiculous hope she'd harbored for the two of them, no matter how often she'd squashed the feelings, faded with the sight of Jackson and Pritzy half unclothed. The kitty snacks fell to the ground and she covered her mouth with her hand. A whimper escaped and she ran back through the mud room. Pelting rain drenched her and lightning split the sky as she rushed through the gate. Thunder roared. The pasture had already turned into a mud bowl that sucked at her feet and legs the same way finding Jackson and Pritzy together sucked at her soul.
* * *
"Shit!" Jackson shouted.
"Hon, what's the problem? She's just the housekeeper."
Jackson turned a frustrated look on Pritzy. "Get dressed and go home! This was a stupid idea, anyway!"
Pritzy opened her mouth in shock, but he was already running toward the back door. "Go home!" he shouted over his shoulder.
The sky had opened and was pouring buckets when he stepped outside. He saw Annie, slipping and sliding in the pasture. She fell and righted herself. He yelled her name, but the sound was lost in a thunder clap. He ran through the gate and into the field. She fell again, this time flat on her stomach. He watched her push to her knees and then freeze in that position.
He slopped through the mud, rain stinging his nakedness, and circled Annie, going down on his knees in front of her. She was staring at the ground. He yelled her name above the storm and she slowly looked up. The heartbreak in her eyes twisted his gut. Rain plastered their hair to their faces and washed the mud from their bodies. Jackson said above the sound of the rain, "Nothing happened, Annie. I sent her home."
She looked blankly into his eyes and blinked against the water dripping from her lashes.
He leaned down and cupped her face in his hands. "Annie, why do we keep fighting our desire for each other?"
Suddenly, a cry escaped her throat and she threw her arms around his neck, plastering her lips to his. Jackson moaned and kissed her with unrestrained emotion. On their knees in the mud, they finally gave in to years of frustration and suppressed longings. His tongue found hers in a mating dance and then he strung kisses from her mouth to her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, her ears, and back to her mouth.
Lightning flashed, closer now, and he stood, pulling her up with him and reaching under her legs, lifting her into the shelter of his arms. Still kissing her, he
walked as quickly as he could through the slop to her cottage.
Shoving the front door open, he strode to the bathroom and turned on the shower. While the water heated, he kissed her fiercely and removed her clothes. He released the zipper of his own pants and stepped out of them. Entering the steaming shower he brought Annie with him. Lifting her legs around his waist, he backed her against the shower stall. She locked her eyes with his and placed her small hands on either side of his face, staring into his soul.
"Kiss me, Annie," he begged.
Slowly, she brought her lips to his in a kiss sweeter than honey. She lifted her mouth a fraction and said, "I love you, Jackson."
Her words sent him over the edge and he covered her mouth with his, lost in a desire that drove him beyond reason. She belonged to him and no one else.
* * *
Jackson pulled Annie close and tucked her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head. The rain, now a drizzle, streamed down the bedroom pane. He glanced at the clock: three A.M. Annie sighed in her sleep. He stroked her silky hair and couldn't believe his stupidity in inviting Pritzy into the house when she'd unexpectedly showed up. His only excuse was that he'd been so angry after hearing what Alligator had to say about Annie being the notorious "Hack," that he'd wanted to…what? Find solace in the arms of a woman? Ha! The only thing he'd accomplished was making himself feel like a dog. The look on Annie's face had twisted a knife in his heart. He'd hurt her deeply.
Rubbing his cheek against her hair, he considered his next step. Had she stolen fifty thousand from him? If so, why? Was Alligator just blowing smoke out his ass? What if she had stolen the money? Could he send her to jail? Never! Not in a million years. Should he wake her and demand the truth. If she was innocent, could she forgive him for even thinking such a thing?
He felt Annie lift her hand to his chest and stroke him. He whispered, "Are you awake, sweetheart?