Trust by Design (Colorado Trust 2)

All of it so easy to find.

But she wasn’t stupid. If she’d given Brady his program, she would have erased everything. Deleted the email from her sent box, her trash, everywhere. Same with the program files. She had the skills and the know-how to scrub her computer clean, so no way she’d leave the damning evidence in plain sight for him to find.

For that matter, why email the damn thing when a flash drive would’ve left no trace at all?

The answer was obvious. Because she’d been set up, that’s why.

Now the question was, by whom? His jaw tensed as he drew in a breath. Unfortunately, that list of names was way shorter than he liked.

Mike or Liz.

Maybe both?

The thought of being betrayed by close, trusted friends a second time in his life hurt almost as much as when he’d believed the woman he loved was guilty. But much as he hated to consider them, they were the only two who both had access to his home system and Gina’s computer.

He reached over to the passenger seat for her laptop. Once powered up, he began a meticulous search for the malware he suspected had been installed the night her office had been broken into. She’d assured him she’d checked the system, but he wished he’d insisted on taking a look himself. Going off the obvious assumption one of his new suspects was working for Jack, and having had prior experience with his MO, he located the rootkit software in less than fifteen minutes by searching the recently updated programs that required administrator rights to modify.

In this case Jack had used a sophisticated keylogger to steal her new passwords, then changed the auto-backup system to send him copies of any desired files including emails, spreadsheets, and new code. It was hidden so deep, unless a person was specifically looking for it, it was easily overlooked—even by a professional.

His speakers in the car announced an incoming call and Dean jabbed the hands-free button on his steering wheel when he heard the name. “What?”

“Where have you been?” Mike exclaimed.

“Dealing with the police about my accident,” he explained shortly.

“Oh. Well, you said to get back to you when I heard something from Quinn…”

The hesitancy in his voice irritated Dean. “And?”

“He doesn’t have any information on Ty, but he took a drive past Jack’s and…Gina’s car is there.”

“What?” He glanced at his phone where it was plugged into the charger as if it would explain why the hell she’d go there. At the same time, he started the Mustang and threw it into gear, then shot the screen another glance to confirm the information he’d just glimpsed.

Three missed calls. One new voicemail. From Gina.

“I’m sorry man,” Mike was saying.

“I gotta go.”

“No—wait! There’s more—”

He disconnected the call, grabbed his phone, and played the voicemail as he gunned the gas out of the lot.

“Dean, I just saw the news in TI and you’re not here and I got your note. I know you’re angry, but I’m begging you please, don’t go over there. I’m on my way and I really need you to wait for me.”

It sounded like she was running, and as she spoke, her words were underscored by a door slam, another door slam, and then an engine started up.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night, about something I may have seen and I’m pretty sure Jackson has something going on with a ch

ildren’s charity out of New York. I can’t remember the name, but together, I’m thinking we could use it to strong arm him into rescinding his release announcement.” Finally a pause as she sucked in a breath that shook across the line. “God, I hope you get this in time and don’t do anything stupid. Don’t give him the satisfaction. If we do this together, we can beat him, so please wait for me. Please. I love you.”

Dean’s pulse went from zero to sixty in a single skip as the message ended.

I love you.

He stepped on the gas and his speedometer exceeded his heart rate as he sped up the on ramp for the highway. If only she’d listened to his note, he’d be on his way home to tell her that he believed her and trusted her, and he loved her, too.

She’d left the message almost forty-five minutes ago. Her additional calls were spaced over fifteen minutes—presumably during her drive to Jack’s house. The fact she hadn’t called since worried the hell out of him, but all he could do was pray she was okay as he engaged the voice command to call her.