Decoding a Criminal

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Decoding a Criminal Page 10

by Barb Han


  But Layla. She needed and deserved their undivided attention. Beyond that, she wouldn’t approve of a fling between her best friend and her brother.

  Raina tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear and regrouped. She took in a slow breath and tried to clear the fog that consumed her when she was this close to Dash. The man was smart, capable and smokin’ hot. Those were just a few of his obvious qualities. She could only imagine what sex would be like this time around, based on the heat in the few kisses they’d shared.

  And that’s exactly where sex between them needed to stay: in her imagination.

  Packing. She’d been packing when he’d charged into the room and kissed her. “I’m almost done with my overnight bag.” Her voice was a little deeper and more gravelly.

  “I’ll just wait in the living room.”

  A sound in the next room caused her to freeze and Dash to reach for his holstered weapon. He brought out his firearm, pivoted and had her against the wall with his left hand holding her behind him. It had happened in a matter of seconds, and she’d barely gotten her wits back.

  Granted, his training had clearly kicked in, but she didn’t like the feeling of needing to rely on someone else’s quick thinking for protection. The flyer for the personal-protection class would be fished out of her trash can when this was all over. She was going to call and set up her first lesson. This feeling of helplessness was for the birds, and she was clearly out of her league with motorcycle dude. She had no plans to be caught off guard again. She’d frozen when she should have defended. Having her safety challenged for the first time sent her mind spinning.

  Dash brought his left hand up to his mouth and his index finger to his lips. He was telling her to be quiet. Then he indicated she should stay put. Little did he know she had no intention of moving until he said it was safe to do so. She wasn’t stupid and didn’t have a death wish.

  He inched toward the door with the stealth and grace of an alley cat moving along the shadows. Soundlessly, he disappeared down the hall. The noise had probably just been the wind or the floors settling. It happened all the time, she reminded herself.

  It wasn’t until he appeared in the doorway again that she exhaled.

  “All clear,” he said. “But I should have locked the door when I came inside.”

  “The wind?” she asked, thinking how dangerous his job truly was. Her own father had been a US marine. She’d grown up a military brat until middle school, when he was killed during active duty. A shudder rocketed through her at the memory. She never talked about her father. As far as she was concerned, he was a closed subject.

  “Let’s go,” Raina said, ready to get out of there.

  Dash nodded and reached for her hand. She pulled away before he made contact and grabbed her suitcase.

  “Do you mind?” She handed over her small suitcase to him, knowing he would want to carry it anyway.

  “Okay,” was all he said, but the disappointment in his eyes at her jerking her hand away was what nearly killed her. But so did ending that all-consuming kiss and desire for another.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dash stretched his arms, sore from sitting in the same position too long. He glanced at the clock. Both he and Raina had been at it for three solid hours with no breaks. It was almost four o’clock in the morning. His coffee had gone cold hours ago, and he needed to make a pit stop in the bathroom.

  He suppressed a yawn and then stood. “Can I get you anything while I’m up?”

  “More coffee would be amazing.” She didn’t look up. She’d been acting different ever since the kiss at her place. He’d been swept up with memories and had let himself get out of hand. Control and self-discipline weren’t normally an issue for him, so he’d been thrown off by how fast he’d snapped into primal mode.

  “With a little cream?” he asked.

  “Yes.” An eyebrow hiked up, and she looked surprised that he remembered how she took her coffee. But that was all she said. She sat on the opposite end of the couch, as far from him as humanly possible while still sitting on the actual sofa.

  He couldn’t say he didn’t deserve the cold shoulder he’d been getting ever since her apartment. He was normally the guy who ditched when emotions got complicated. Trying to convince himself he felt this way because she was his sister’s best friend fell flat.

  In the bathroom, he slapped his face with cold water and only then realized he still had on slacks and a button-down shirt. Jeans and a cotton T-shirt were more his style, so he moved into the master bedroom and changed into something more comfortable. He fired off a couple of push-ups to get the blood pumping again. Sitting for too long was taking a toll. He needed to run down to the gym and get in a workout. He could think better there, but he wasn’t quite ready to leave Raina by herself. She’d had her head down, working hard, and he wanted to keep the momentum going for both of them.

  He brewed a couple cups of coffee. He took his black, mainly because he didn’t like to waste time with fixings and he liked the bitter taste on his tongue. He brought one over to Raina and set it down in front of her.

  She bristled when he got close. He didn’t like it.

  “I owe you an apology for what happened last night. I was out of line at your apartment,” he started.

  “It’s fine, Dash.” In his experience, when someone said it’s fine, the opposite was usually true.

  “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He exhaled, searching for the right words. He was in new territory, but her understanding that attraction had nothing to do with the reason why he’d pushed her away before was important.

  “I’d rather not, if that’s okay with you.”

  Before he could respond, his cell indicated an email had come through. He’d put a notification on his team-member contacts, so this might be important.

  He took a couple of steps to the opposite end of the sofa and settled down with his coffee. He took a sip, enjoying the burn, and then pulled up his email on the TV screen turned monitor.

  The encrypted message was from Liam.

  Turns out the firm was hacked two days before Layla supposedly embezzled the money. Social security numbers, investment account numbers, names.

  Raina scooted over and then studied the screen. “My department wasn’t notified of this security breech.”

  “Why wouldn’t they tell you?” he asked.

  “My boss can be secretive. We might all be under investigation internally if something like this happened,” she said.

  “Layla’s boss didn’t fully cooperate because he must not want the news of the hacking to get out. Very sensitive and valuable data was captured by the hacker, according to Liam.” This kind of leak could bankrupt a financial-services company if high profile accounts were closed.

  “I’m wondering if this person framed Layla, or did they simply ‘open’ a door to steal her password that someone else took advantage of?” She finally glanced over at him. “We both know that some hackers are in it for the prize of hacking in and of itself, not to steal or destroy. Some are in it for both.”

  “The trick is to figure out what we’re dealing with here. Someone who opened a door and then walked away for someone else to walk right in?” He was thinking out loud, but it was nice to work with someone who understood tech. And if he was being honest, it was nice to be around Raina. Better than nice. He’d missed her. And Dash never missed people.

  “This all gives me the feeling that whoever we’re dealing with either works at the firm or has an in. No one should be able to get into our system at all. It’s supposed to be foolproof. It has the highest level of encryption and security protocols in place,” she said.

  As expected when dealing with high profile people and more money than Dash would see in his lifetime—which was saying something considering the number of zeroes in his investment account. He’d offered
to let Layla manage his money, and she’d refused so fast his head was still spinning. She told him she wanted to make herself successful on her own terms, and she’d never be able to do that if she continued to ride his coattails. At first blush, he thought she was worried about losing his money and the awkwardness that would follow their relationship. It would be no fun sitting across the Thanksgiving table from her brother if she’d just lost his life savings. Dash had full trust in her and didn’t view it that way, but she would. She was as stubborn as she was determined, a sometimes difficult combination but one that resulted in quite a few millionaires over the years. It took both to be truly successful. One had to be tenacious enough to shut out the world and a little bit selfish too. Determination meant there was no plan B. There was only a plan A, and there was no room for failure. Obstinacy applied to creating the kind of discipline it took to go after a goal could be a very good thing. Applied poorly, and it could just fast-track someone to bankruptcy.

  Layla had always said she would either end up eating peanut butter sandwiches every day or lobster. There wasn’t a whole lot of middle ground for her. That trait was how he knew she would achieve great things. Things that would either make her rich or land her in jail. That had been the joke between the two of them, which wasn’t so funny anymore.

  “Call me crazy, but I have this feeling we’re looking for someone who works at the firm,” Raina said.

  “It’s possible someone paid an employee or intern for access. Grab anyone’s credentials and the hacker could have a little look-see. Snoop around the system and poke until they found holes,” he pointed out.

  She was nodding. And talking to him again, which he liked more than he wanted to admit. The two of them made a good team.

  “There’s an attachment,” Raina said, pointing to the screen.

  “Yes.” He scrolled down to bring it into view. It was a spreadsheet marked Employee Info.

  That was more like it. Dash clicked on the file and the data filled the screen. Two hundred and seventeen employees. Most hedge funds were small businesses, not more than a couple dozen people total. The larger ones employed a thousand. This was on the lower end of the midsize spectrum.

  The file housed names and background information like degrees and interests.

  “We’re looking for anyone with an IT background—”

  “You do realize that makes me a suspect,” Raina quipped.

  “I’m aware. You’re also offering your support for the investigation and so that puts you at the bottom of the list,” he said.

  “It would be too ironic for someone to use my credentials to set up my best friend. Anyone internally would have to know that would never happen,” she said.

  Raina being his sister’s best friend was by far the biggest complication to having a relationship with her. Or was that just a cop-out? He quieted the little voice in his head that was trying to say he couldn’t handle a relationship with a person like Raina. She shattered all the preconceived notions about the people he spent time with, about himself. Normally, he wasn’t a talker, but here he was staying up all night talking to her.

  There was no alcohol to blame. No lapse in judgment. He had full-on and willingly wanted to spend the night talking to her. Talking. He let the thought sit for a long moment before shoving it to the background. The kisses they’d shared weren’t so easily dismissed. They wanted him to think about how incredible the coffee would taste on her lips now as she took a sip.

  “So, let’s start with your department,” he said. “How many employees are there in IT?”

  “We have a dozen current employees, and we had an intern whose time was up recently. We tried to convince him to stay, but he had other offers. Ones we couldn’t compete with, no matter how much my boss tried,” she said.

  “What did you think of the guy?”

  “His technical abilities were on point. No doubt he had the goods. I didn’t think he was the greatest personality fit. We all get along. You know how it is in most IT departments. I don’t have to tell you the comradery that exists,” she said.

  “I remember those days. The ‘us against them’ mentality,” he said with a hint of nostalgia creeping in.

  “Yeah, well, he was a snitch. He apparently kept a spreadsheet of when each one of us went to lunch and then came back. A couple of the guys like to take a long lunch to work out, and he documented that too,” she said. “The problem was that he left it up on his screen once when he went to the bathroom. You know how tech people can be—razzing each other mercilessly.”

  Dash nodded and cracked a smile. Lots of pranks. “Leaving your phone lying around without a lock screen was basically suicide.”

  “Everyone started being tough on this kid, even though he swore it was for a school project and that he had no intentions of turning it in to the boss,” she said. And then her brow furrowed like when the wheels were turning in the back of her mind.

  “You don’t think...” She paused for a couple of beats. “It wouldn’t be him...right?”

  * * *

  “WHAT’S THE KID’S NAME?”

  “Sheldon Kylo,” Raina supplied.

  Raina didn’t want to believe Sheldon was capable of doing something like this. Employees were well vetted. Was the company more lax when it came to interns, assuming these young people had reached at least the barrier of being in an A-list tech program? They only recruited from the best schools.

  “Do you have access to samples of any of his code?” Dash asked, his fingers already busy on the keyboard.

  “As a matter of fact, he worked on a project for me.” She pulled up the company system and located the project file.

  Dash scooted closer, and his warm spicy scent washed over her, bringing parts of her to life she needed to find a way to ignore. Reminding her brain Dash was off-limits wasn’t helping as much as she wanted it to. Her stomach free-fell, and electric currents raced through her where his shoulder touched hers.

  “Here you go.” She tilted the screen toward him.

  He studied it with the intensity of a star quarterback memorizing a game-winning play. “Okay. I got it.”

  Everyone had a unique signature when it came to coding, a particular stamp known only to them. It was a lot like handwriting. No one made identical loops on Ls or held the pen in the exact same way. Coding was no different. There was a lot of personal preference and skill that went into it.

  Dash pulled up the lines of code that were responsible for his sister’s imprisonment. He checked her monitor, but after a few seconds of scrolling, neither one needed to continue. They did, though, needing to be certain.

  “Sheldon?” She heard the disbelief in her own voice. And then a picture snapped together of a young guy who was probably smarter than all of them. He might have targeted Layla by installing something on her computer to record her keystrokes. “He would have had access to the systems.”

  She didn’t need to explain the rest to Dash, because he probably got there faster than she did.

  He raked his fingers through his hair and then rubbed the scruff on his chin. He bit out a few choice words—the same ones Raina was thinking.

  “When did he leave the firm?” he asked.

  “A few weeks ago,” she said. “Maybe a month.”

  “Did he leave on good terms?”

  “Yes, overall. The boss liked him and tried to get him to stay. He went through the motions, pretending to be flattered at the offer, and I believe he even said he needed to think about it.”

  “But he didn’t take it,” Dash pointed out.

  She shook her head. “No. In the end he said he really liked working there, but the other offer was a lot more lucrative.”

  “Do you know where he ended up taking a job?” he asked.

  “It was a start-up by the name of the Money Fund. They were offering stock options, and he said he
wanted to be part of building something from scratch.”

  “Two million dollars would certainly soften the blow if the fund didn’t make it off the ground,” he said.

  “He could do his own thing with that kind of money. He could use it as seed money for his own company.” She pulled up the website for the Money Fund.

  She scrolled through the company’s site until she located the employees. There he was: Sheldon Kylo. His title was VP of Development.

  “Not a bad gig for a snot-nosed kid barely out of college,” Dash said.

  “He skipped a year in school and then graduated college in three years instead of the usual four. He’s working on an advanced degree.” She remembered how bright he was and how much he kept to himself.

  “I think it’s time we pay him a visit at his home.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sheldon Kylo’s apartment was a two-room addition to the back of a house on Twenty-Fourth Avenue South where the road met up with South Spokane Street. It sat on a corner lot adjacent to Jefferson Park and was located southeast of the city near the industrial district.

  Dash brought his sports car in case the need arose to zip through traffic quickly, but there was no drama on the ride over.

  The sun was rising, and there was a light on inside the small apartment. A subcompact electric car was parked in front of the door. Dash figured these were good signs Sheldon was home.

  He knocked on the door three times. Three taps in rapid succession.

  “Mr. Kylo, my name is Special Agent Dash West,” he said, using his authoritative voice. “We know you are home, so you might as well open up.”

  The door swung open, and a very agitated young man stood there with a scornful look on his face. His skin was sallow. He was tall and looked like he hadn’t quite filled out yet. His arms looked more like rubber bands than anything else. He wore a wrinkled T-shirt depicting a grimacing middle finger. His gaze shifted from Dash to Raina, and then his shoulders sagged.

 

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