Betrayed

by Karen E. Olson

  I reach the door, and Zeke is holding it open. The backpack feels as though it weighs triple what it really does, and I drop it next to me. I am unable to take another step.

  ‘How?’ I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ he says. ‘You OK?’

  I shake my head.

  I see the other car then, the one that is parked outside the gate. I can make out two people inside. He sees me noticing.

  ‘Security,’ he says simply as he leans down and picks up the backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. ‘Come on in, Tina.’ He walks through the door and a light goes on at the end of the foyer. I can see through to the great room – and the ocean beyond. The mirror I remember is gone; so is the side table. The emptiness lures me in.

  He’s got the sliding doors open, and he’s staring out over the pool to the water. I drink in the view. Although there is no furniture, no signs of life, this sight gives me strength and I begin to breathe a little easier.

  ‘I remember this,’ he says, and I know what he’s referring to. The first day he came here, the day I was sitting on the chaise longue by the pool. I didn’t know then that we already knew each other, that he was my best friend.

  I don’t know that I can handle all the ghosts that have begun to swirl around us: my father, my mother, Ian. Tracker.

  ‘That car out there – those agents. Won’t it make anyone suspicious?’

  ‘We’ve always got someone looking in on DeMarco,’ Zeke says casually, and in a swift movement he’s got his laptop out and he’s sitting cross-legged on the ground.

  I remember that. How the FBI always sent agents here to check up on my father. That’s what I thought Zeke was doing, the first time he showed up.

  ‘We’re close enough to Tony’s house that we might be able to get into his network,’ Zeke is saying, interrupting my memories.

  He’s right. I drop down next to him. I’ve got Spencer’s laptop, so I open it. There are several networks in the area, though. ‘Even if we can get into the right one,’ I say, ‘how do we know Amelie has left her computer on so we can access it?’

  ‘It was on before, right? A lot of people just let their computers or laptops sleep and never turn them off.’

  ‘So we might not need the router after all,’ I muse. ‘Spencer’s not going to be happy that he went on a fool’s errand.’

  ‘It would be easier with it than without it,’ Zeke says, ‘but I think we can get in. Spence’ll understand.’

  If anyone would, it would be Spencer. As I concentrate, my surroundings disappear and my focus is solely on the work. I want to get in before Zeke does. I know I can be too competitive, but I still want to prove myself, show that I can do it without help.

  It doesn’t take too long, either. I grin at Zeke. ‘I’m in.’

  He scoots over next to me to see my screen. I’ve already managed to get back into Amelie’s computer. I recognize the desktop, the photographs, from the last time I was here.

  ‘This is her?’ Zeke asks.

  ‘Yeah.’ I’m not done, though. I have to get inside further, see what she’s been doing online. The history shows the usual suspects: social media pages, searches for local restaurant menus, directions to a vintage clothing shop. There has to be something here.

  ‘Check her email,’ Zeke urges.

  She’s got one account bookmarked, so we go there first. Nothing of any interest: notices from department stores about online sales, links to news stories from the local paper, emails from women in a book group about the next meeting, reminders about hair appointments.

  ‘This is a waste of time,’ I mutter. But then I go into the computer’s programs and find the VPN – and Tor. ‘Bingo.’ I am kicking myself for not looking further when I was here before, otherwise we might have been able to figure out she was behind everything a lot sooner. Ian might still be alive. I shake off the thought and force myself to concentrate.

  As we delve deeper, it’s clear that Amelie is much more well versed with computers than Ian – and possibly Daniel. ‘You don’t think any of this is Daniel’s work, do you?’ I ask Zeke.

  ‘Some might be,’ he admits, ‘but let’s assume this is all Amelie.’

  ‘Daniel did play a role in this,’ I say. ‘We found the image of Adriana in his computer.’ I try to give him the benefit of the doubt, though. He’s just a kid. It would have been difficult for him to say no to his mother. I turn back to the laptop.

  Amelie has been busy. She’s been in the chat room, and it’s not so difficult to discover that she’s been using my screen names. I ignore the shiver that shimmies up my spine when I see this.

  ‘We’re wasting time,’ Zeke says, turning the laptop toward him. ‘Look here,’ he says, pointing. ‘She’s been to this hidden service.’

  ‘What is it?’

  He doesn’t answer, his fingers tapping the keyboard, revealing that Amelie has downloaded a Tor descriptor. Zeke follows it to find the public key and the circuit that Amelie created, revealing a rendezvous point. It’s here that we see it. The communication between Amelie and an unknown user about how the hit on Tony is going to go down.

  Betr@yD: He’s going to his daughter’s apartment in the morning about eleven. It’s quiet in that neighborhood then.

  XXit: Doorman?

  Betr@yD: Don’t worry about him. I’ve got it covered. Make sure it’s the leg. Not too high up or you’ll hit the artery. Low enough to do some damage. So he’ll be in the hospital a while. Make it look good.

  XXit: How do I know it won’t come back to me?

  Betr@yD: I’ve set it all up. Conversations online that will point everyone in the wrong direction. No one will ever know.

  XXit: When do I get paid?

  Betr@yD: I’ve already transferred money into your account. You’ll get the rest afterward.

  It’s as we suspected: Tony wasn’t supposed to die, and Amelie set it up so it would look as though I was responsible – me and Tracker. Amelie somehow knew where I was, because the IP address of the laptop at the bike shop is on the screen.

  ‘Who is XXit?’ I ask as Zeke takes screen shots of everything we’ve found.

  ‘I’ve never seen that screen name before,’ Zeke says. ‘It could be anyone, someone she found online just for the hit. I bet he doesn’t know who she is. He could be the original p4r4d0x, too, and even though he disappeared after the hit, she didn’t realize that because Spencer was communicating with her as p4r4d0x.’

  I think about the Waste Land – how you can find anything on there, possibly even find someone who will kill for you for the right price.

  ‘Maybe we can find the money she paid him.’

  ‘Maybe.’ From the way he says it, I can tell he’s already thinking about how to go about it.

  ‘So how did she find out where I was so she could set up the laptop at the bike shop? Who did you tell?’

  Zeke shakes his head. ‘No one, Tina. I was the only one who knew where you were.’

  But then it hits me. ‘You have been working with Ian.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘She knew Ian found me, and she probably knew about you and me, too.’

  I can see from his expression that he knows where I’m going with this.

  ‘She tracked you,’ I say. ‘Maybe she hacked into your phone or something, like we did.’

  ‘What do you mean, like we did?’

  I sigh. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but it’s too late now. ‘Spencer and I downloaded the phone locator app on your phone. You know, the one that we downloaded into Ian’s phone, or, rather, Amelie’s. That’s how we knew you were at Tony’s club when you were meeting with Adriana.’

  ‘You hacked me?’ Zeke shakes his head. ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘That’s beside the point now,’ I say, eager to move back to Amelie. ‘I bet she put two and two together, and if she was the shadow, she was able to find out that you were Tracker through the laptop.’r />
  I feel so stupid that we hadn’t thought about Amelie from the start, but why would we have? How long has she been planning all this? Has she been consumed by it for years? Eager to get her revenge on me, on Ian? An unbearable sadness overwhelms me. Again, I remind myself that I’m not grieving for the Ian I’ve known the last couple of years, or even the one who used me for the bank job, but the one I met at the university, the young man who was so eager to please, who loved me. I know he loved me once, despite all his lies.

  Zeke is watching me, and he sees the emotions that I’m wearing on my sleeve. I want to tell him I need this time, just a little bit of time, and somehow he knows. He always knows.

  Zeke’s phone rings. He puts it to his ear. ‘Hey, Spence.’

  He’s quiet as Spencer talks. I can hear Spencer’s voice, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. I turn my attention back to the screen, and I can hardly believe it.

  ‘What do you see?’ Zeke’s voice sounds as if he’s a million miles away.

  The code doesn’t lie.

  ‘Tony DeMarco’s site. It’s definitely Unicorn. That kiddie porn site.’

  FIFTY-FOUR

  I vaguely hear Zeke telling Spencer to meet us here as I peruse the code. All I did was trace the invitation to the hidden site backward and it ended up in a link to the site. I still don’t have an IP address, though.

  My thoughts stray back to Amelie. I don’t like having a target on my back, and I don’t like that it’s her. She’s got a lot to hold a grudge about, and I don’t blame her. But Ian was with her, not me. He chose her. Why did she have him killed?

  ‘You’re right. I need to disappear again. This isn’t going away. I can’t throw some code in there to change things. I can’t put money in Tony’s account to make it all better. She did a good job.’ I give him a small smile. ‘At least now you’ve got Tony’s site. You can take him down. I doubt she thought that would happen.’

  ‘Or maybe she did. I think she’s had this all planned for a very long time,’ Zeke says thoughtfully.

  ‘What can you do about her?’

  ‘I can use all this’ – he indicates the laptop and what’s on the screen – ‘to show that you didn’t have anything to do with it.’

  I think again about Daniel. He had to have been involved, considering how he’d inserted Adriana’s image into that video footage. But maybe he didn’t know what his mother was up to. Maybe she asked him to do it, and he was happy to and didn’t ask any questions. And now he has to deal with his father’s death. He’ll find out his mother was responsible for that, too. He’ll grow up with a parent in prison. I know what that’s like.

  As I think about my father, my thoughts stray to Adriana. She was set up, too. She had a shadow in her laptop, the ransom note, the bank account with my name but her picture. ‘Do you think Amelie is after Adriana, too?’ I ask.

  Zeke’s expression tells me this is something he hasn’t thought about. He jumps up. ‘Stay here,’ he orders.

  I can’t stay here. Not with all of the memories, the ghosts. Especially since I know where he’s going, especially since I see he’s got his gun out.

  He’s already out the door. He leans into the car that’s idling out in front, talking to the agents inside. When he stands back up, he gives me a glare, holds his hand up as though he’s a traffic cop telling me to stop. I do, watching him disappear around the corner. The two agents are on his heels, and that’s when I start moving again. I stay back when we get to Tony DeMarco’s house, which is quiet, dark. A black car sits out front. I suddenly regret my rash move. I shouldn’t be here; Tony’s inside, recovering. He’s got a hit out on me. He’s had Ian killed. I’ve talked my way out of things before, but I doubt I could do it this time. I turn to go back, to slip into the darkness, but it’s too late. The house door opens, and Amelie steps out.

  ‘You got here sooner than I thought, but then you were only a few houses down, right?’ she says.

  Zeke has not raised his gun; I don’t see she has a weapon, but we are all on alert. She must have been watching us from inside her computer. Against my better judgment, I am impressed with her skills.

  ‘Where’s Adriana?’ Zeke demands.

  She smiles. ‘You would like to know, wouldn’t you?’ Her voice is playful, teasing.

  I glance up at the dark windows. I have an unexpected thought that she’s killed them all: Tony, Adriana, anyone else who she feels betrayed her.

  ‘If you come quietly,’ Zeke says, ‘and tell us everything, maybe we can make it easier on Daniel.’

  ‘I don’t know what you think I’ve done.’

  ‘We’ve got it all,’ Zeke says.

  ‘I don’t know what you think you have.’ She takes a few steps forward, leaving the door open. She must feel very confident that this is as far as it will go.

  I hear the sirens somewhere in the distance. They’re coming. I can’t be here when they arrive. I may not be a fugitive anymore, but my instincts are still to flee. As I turn to go back, I hear another voice.

  ‘What’s going on?’ It’s Adriana. She’s come out of the house behind Amelie.

  ‘This nice FBI agent is just asking some questions,’ Amelie says as though nothing is wrong.

  Adriana focuses on Zeke. ‘FBI?’ And then she spots me. She takes a few steps forward. Zeke turns to see what’s got her attention, and he frowns. It’s clear that I am no stranger to Adriana, as Zeke has told me. I wonder if Tony told her – or if Amelie did. Either way, the secret’s out, and I take a step back as if that will make everything OK.

  ‘Maybe you should go tell your father he’s got visitors,’ Amelie says to Adriana. ‘I’m sure he’ll be very interested in them.’

  ‘We’re not here for him,’ Zeke says. ‘We’re here to make sure Miss DeMarco is OK.’ He pauses. ‘And we’re here for you.’

  Amelie smiles. Her beauty strikes me again, and there’s a calmness in her expression, even now as she faces FBI agents who are ready to arrest her. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she says.

  ‘We have screen shots.’

  Her expression doesn’t change, but then her gaze finally falls on me. Her jaw hardens, and I can see it in her eyes: hate. I force myself not to react, but it’s difficult not to look away, to face the woman who has always only been an afterthought to me, but who clearly considers me an enemy and has tried to destroy me.

  The sirens are getting even closer. I have a small window of time. I break the connection with Amelie as I spin around and race back. Zeke has left the door unlocked, and I stumble to the back patio, the laptops still open, proof of Amelie’s guilt.

  I close the laptop covers to put them to sleep and stare out at the water. Somehow it seems as though it’s come full circle. It started here and it’s ending here. As long as it truly ends.

  I wake in the morning to the sun streaming across the bed. I look at Zeke next to me. He came back for me after a couple of hours, gave me the car keys, and told me where to go. He stumbled in just before dawn, Amelie still declaring her innocence, Tony DeMarco alive but dying in his house, his daughter by his side. Daniel, upon finding out about his father’s death, did the right thing and told them everything he knew, what he’d been asked to do. He’s in FBI protection now, and although he’ll survive this, the scars will remain. I know.

  Tony DeMarco has not lifted the hit on me. I am still a target, and it has nothing to do with what’s happened recently. He wants his revenge on me, on my father, even all these years later. Amelie didn’t need to set me up, but she made it more convenient for him. No amount of money will make it right, because it’s as I thought in the beginning. It’s not about the money. It’s personal.

  Turns out Zeke has his own place in Miami, away from the South Miami apartment and his team. It’s a small house not unlike Spencer’s, in Coconut Grove. He says no one knows about it, but as recent history is showing, he may not be keeping all his secrets as well as he thinks he is.

  I
pack up my backpack and leave the laptop on the top of the dresser. I won’t need it where I’m going, even though it probably would be best if I took it. I don’t think I’ll really be able to stay away. I have to stop lying to myself.

  I also have to stop lying to myself about Zeke. We have a connection that I can’t ignore.

  Zeke rolls over, and I hold my breath until I see that he’s just settling in. I don’t want a long goodbye, and I’m afraid if I wake him, I’ll never leave. It’s hard enough to walk out like this now.

  I hear the car pull up outside, and I let myself out quietly. Spencer is waiting for me. He’s back to his usual attire of jeans and T-shirt, his hair in a messy ponytail. His eyes are glazed over, and I’m a little worried about him driving.

  ‘You all set?’ he asks. I nod. He hands me a cell phone. ‘You need this. I’ve got your boarding pass in the app, so you just need to show it at the airport.’

  I glance back at the house.

  ‘We’ll make it right for you to come back,’ Spencer promises as he starts the car. I never thought I’d pray for an old man’s death, but it could be the only way I’ll ever be free. But I don’t mention this. Spencer doesn’t know everything, even though he thinks he does.

  As we drive off, I glance in the side-view mirror and see Zeke standing in the doorway, watching. He lifts his hand in a short wave, and then he goes back inside, shutting the door behind him.

  EPILOGUE

  I stand on the deck of the ferry, ignoring how cold it is, my hands shoved in my pockets. I don’t have gloves. I’ve layered with a sweater and a fleece jacket, but I’m underdressed; I should have gotten a parka. I lived here long enough that the weather shouldn’t be a surprise. It’s November, after all, and New England.

  There are only a handful of other people on the ferry. They’re inside, where it’s warm. But I want to be out here. I want to watch the island getting bigger the closer we get. I breathe in the salty air; the boat bounces against the waves, the whitecaps surfing the surface of the water that’s so dark it looks almost black. The sky is full of gray clouds, and I wonder if it’s going to rain – or maybe snow. It’s very different from the last time I came this way; it was summer then, hot and sticky, and the sun shone bright against the crisp blue water.