Wired (Buchanan-Renard 13)

“Million,” she supplied.

She explained everything, from the nursing home segment on the news to the e-mail she’d sent. Alec said he hadn’t heard of the hacking. Liam didn’t respond. He seemed to be studying her as he listened to her recount the details.

“Did they get the hackers?” Alec asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “It was on the news, but it all happened a long time ago.”

“About three years ago,” Liam added.

“Then you knew about it?”

“I read a report on it,” he answered. “A lot of people tried to take credit for getting that money back. None of them could tell the investigators what was said in the e-mail sent to the director, though.”

“Do you remember what it said?” Alec asked Liam.

He nodded. “Yeah, I do. It made me laugh.”

“What was so funny?” Allison wanted to know.

“Prove you did it,” Alec urged. “Tell us what the e-mail said.”

She didn’t hesitate. “‘You’re welcome.’”

Alec looked at Liam, who nodded. “That’s right,” he confirmed.

“Any other chunks of money you’ve liberated?” Alec asked.

“Yes, and each time I gave specific instructions on how to locate the hackers. And proof so they would go to prison.”

“What about the money?”

“I told the FBI where they could find it.”

“I’m curious,” Alec said. “How much money—the total?”

“Around eighty million.”

They both looked incredulous.

Alec had a good laugh and, shaking his head, said, “You’re lucky you have immunity.”

Jordan entered the room as Alec was speaking. Hands on her hips, she snapped, “But you did promise her immunity, and you’re not going to take it back.” When they all turned to look at her, she defended her eavesdropping. “What? You didn’t think I wouldn’t find out what was going on, did you? The house is still empty. Sound echoes,” she protested with indignation.

“Don’t get all worked up,” Alec said, exasperated. “I was just saying what could happen if she didn’t have immunity.”

“Stop trying to scare her. What she did might have been illegal, but not a serious crime. She didn’t cause any harm. Nobody goes to jail for looking.”

“Does she seem scared to you?” Liam asked.

Jordan frowned. “Okay, she doesn’t. Allison, don’t let them bully you into doing anything you don’t want to do.”

“I won’t,” she assured her. “Alec, there’s another way of looking at this situation. If for whatever reason you were to take away immunity and decide to arrest me, what evidence do you really have? I could explain that I was telling you a story. I could say that I made it all up to show off,” she added with a nod. “You don’t have any proof that I’ve done anything wrong.”

She looked so proud of herself Liam wanted to laugh. “You’re forgetting you told us you have a file of viruses you’ve collected, remember? That’s what would nail you.”

“Yes, it would,” she agreed. “If you could find the file.”

“You think we couldn’t?”

“I know you couldn’t.”

Liam appreciated her arrogance.

“You’re awfully confident, Allison,” Alec remarked.

“None of it matters now, does it? Besides, I’ve decided to quit. No more looking in on protected sites. I promise.”

“Except you’re going to help us,” Liam reminded her.

Allison didn’t respond immediately. “Yes, I’ll help you with this problem, but . . . I’m not going to commit to working for the FBI for an entire year. I have plans. As soon as I find your leak, I’m gone. And no one else will know I’ve done this. Agreed?”

It wasn’t the deal they had hoped for, and Phillips wasn’t going to like it, but Allison appeared to be resolute in her position. Liam nodded to Alec and then said, “Agreed.”

Jordan walked into the living room and sat next to Allison on the sofa. “I’m assuming all the secret talk is over.”

“I explained to them that, as soon as I get a chance, I’ll tell you everything,” Allison said.

“We don’t want either one of you to talk about this outside this house. Got that?” Alec warned.

“What about Noah? May I tell him?” Jordan asked.

“You’re going to anyway, aren’t you?” Allison wondered.

Jordan nodded. “Yes. I just thought it would be nice if I asked.”

“For God’s sake, Jordan,” Alec said, “this is serious.”

“I know,” she replied. “Neither one of us is going to post this conversation on the Internet, and Allison doesn’t need to tell me what the assignment is. I’ve already guessed the obvious. You want her to catch a hacker, don’t you?”

“Something like that,” Alec answered.

“Don’t leave me out. I want to help.”

“No, absolutely not,” Allison said. “If anything went wrong, you could get into trouble.”

“So could you.”

“I don’t matter,” she blurted, unaware how telling the comment was.

“Of course you matter. The FBI has given you immunity. You can’t get into trouble.”

“What I meant to say is that, if I were to get into trouble, I’d deserve it. I’ve broken the law. You haven’t. Things have a way of getting messed up. It could be dangerous.”

“How?”

“What if the person or people I’m going after find out who I am and come after me? It could happen,” she insisted.

Jordan turned to Liam. “Are you running this?”

He nodded slowly. He kept his gaze on Allison and said, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’ll be safe.”

“I still want to help,” Jordan insisted.

“I’ve got a better chance of searching without being detected. That’s all I’m saying,” Allison said.

The two of them began to argue in a language Liam had never heard before. It was computer talk on an incomprehensible level.

“What would you do, Jordan, if . . .” was as much as Liam or Alec understood.

As Liam listened to the two women debate the best ways of entering a secure site, he couldn’t stop staring at Allison. She was beautiful, yes, but what held his attention was the way her mind worked.

Alec interjected a thought into the discussion. “You know, Allison, there are some people who have sold various bugs and viruses for a lot of money.”

“I’d never sell them,” she protested.

Allison’s phone rang again. She muted it and didn’t even bother to see who was calling.

“I’m curious. How many viruses have you collected?” Alec asked.

“Oh, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. That’s why I asked,” Alec said.

She started to blush. “I’d like to know, too,” Liam said.

“A few?” Alec asked.

It was obvious she was embarrassed. “More than a few.”

“How many more than a few?” Liam asked.

“Several?” Alec asked. “Or a bunch?”

Jordan nudged Allison and said, “You’ve already admitted that you have a file of viruses. You might as well tell them how many. They can’t do anything to you.”

Eventually they would find out, Allison thought. If she just told them now, she’d save time. “Not including the ones I’ve destroyed, I’d say there’re a hundred seventy or so in the file, give or take twenty or thirty.”

“So . . . two hundred,” Liam guessed.

She nodded. “Or thereabouts. Maybe a few more.”

Alec looked astounded. “How long have you been at this?”

“Not all that long.”

&nb

sp; She picked up the carton and the can and carried them to the kitchen to get away from their scrutiny for a little while. She didn’t like being the center of attention, especially since she was now considered a criminal in their minds. Alec was a nice man, she thought, but he looked at her as if she were a freak. Liam didn’t, though. He seemed skeptical, which wasn’t as bad, she supposed, yet there was something about the way his eyes focused so intently on hers that unnerved her.

Standing at the window with her arms folded, she stared out into the night and thought about the conversation. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so honest. It was too late now, but she felt sick with regret. She never should have started looking in on private sites. It didn’t matter if her motives were good or bad. She had broken the law countless times. Never again, she vowed.

In the living room Alec turned to Liam. “If only half of what she says she can do—”

Jordan interrupted. “It’s all true. Allison doesn’t lie.”

“She’s that good?” Alec asked.

Jordan nodded. “Yes.”

Alec shook his head and let out a long, low whistle. “She’s a weapon. In the wrong hands she could be lethal.”

EIGHT

Alone in Jordan’s kitchen, Allison listened to the message her aunt had left on her phone. She had hoped it would be about something new, but it was the same old story. Will was in trouble.

For the first few years of his life, William Alexander Trent had been the apple of his daddy’s eye. Willie, as he was affectionately called by his parents then, was the perfect son they had waited eight long years for. He grew up to be somewhat tall and lean like his father, had the same square jaw and handsome features, and could upon occasion be charming. But weren’t most drunks charming at one time or another? Will, the name he insisted on once he reached puberty, didn’t just inherit his father’s good looks and his seemingly insatiable thirst for alcohol; he also inherited his belligerent personality. In high school he played football and helped lead his team to the state championship. Because of his success on the field, he became a big man at school. All the guys looked up to him, and all the girls flocked around him. His senior year was the high point in his life. From then on it was downhill.

Will expected to be flooded with college scholarship offers but learned that, although he was an above-average quarterback, he wasn’t exceptional, and since he cared more about his social standing than about his grades, he was a below-average student. When the recruiters didn’t come knocking, he adjusted his expectations and ended up barely getting into a state school. He squeaked by his first two years but flunked out the second semester of his third year. It wasn’t a question of not being smart enough to succeed; Will just didn’t want to study. From the time he was a little boy, all he’d had to do was throw a tantrum and his parents would fetch whatever he wanted. He never had to work for anything. No effort was ever involved, and even more important, there were never any consequences.

While his former high school friends were graduating from college and moving on to bigger and better lives, Will was failing at one job after another. Nothing held his interest long. He gravitated toward people who were like him, and when those relationships went sour—as they inevitably did—he just found a different group of underachievers to hang around. He drank and he fought, and when he wanted something, no matter how expensive, he took it, leaving his parents and the attorney to clean up the mess.

His first arrest had happened shortly after high school. He was caught shoplifting a pair of running shoes from a sporting goods store. After that, there were three more arrests. Each time, his attorney was able to whittle the charges down and keep him out of jail, and each time Will was arrested, the attorney’s fees tripled.

Will didn’t do anything to help his cause. His temper continued to get the better of him.

In his last appearance in court, he’d mouthed off to the judge, a stupid mistake that had led to a round of anger management classes that didn’t take. Now, because of a bar fight that sent two men to the hospital with serious injuries, Will was facing felony charges that would put him away for five to ten years.

Allison was conflicted by the emotions she felt whenever Will’s name was mentioned. Her initial reaction was usually a mix of anger and resentment, yet deep down there was a hint of sympathy for him. He was the product of his upbringing, after all. His dependency had been ingrained in him since he was a child. But now he was an adult, and it was time for him to take some responsibility. She couldn’t understand why he continued to act out and why he refused to learn from his mistakes. To her, his behavior was completely irrational. Although they had grown up in the same house, she realized she actually didn’t know him very well. They had nothing in common, and he never really paid much attention to her. His fights were always with his father and mother, but no matter how out of control he became, he never took his anger out on her.

Allison could hear the men talking in low voices in Jordan’s living room but tuned them out and played her message again. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she put the phone to her ear and listened to her aunt’s demands a second time.

“We have a situation here, and you need to come home as soon as possible. Your uncle says the decision’s been made. Now come home. Will has been . . .” Allison turned the message off without hearing the rest and returned the call. Before she could say a word, her aunt demanded to know where she was.

“I want you home now,” she insisted. Along with the anger and impatience that usually permeated her aunt’s voice, there was now a hint of desperation.

“Can’t this wait until Monday?” Allison asked. It was Friday, and the last thing she wanted to do was to go to her aunt and uncle’s house in Emerson. By Saturday night Uncle Russell would be a blithering mass of misery. He didn’t believe he had a drinking problem because he drank beer during the week and switched to hard liquor only on the weekends. The wrong word would set him off, and he’d go into a rage. He was predictable; she’d give him that.

“Absolutely not,” her aunt snapped.

“Maybe we can figure out a solution over the phone.”

No such luck. Her aunt went into a full-blown rant and included the word ungrateful three times. God, Allison hated weekends with her relatives. She interrupted her aunt’s tirade, said she would see her tomorrow, and disconnected the call.

Liam stood in the doorway watching her. He could tell from her stance and her expression that something had upset her. She looked so disheartened. He doubted she would tell him what was wrong, but he asked anyway.

“What happened?”

“I’m just thinking,” she said.

“Yeah? About what?”

“Witness protection.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Want to tell me why?”

She shrugged. “It’s a way to disappear. That’s all.” She straightened and brushed past him as she returned to the living room.

For the rest of the evening Allison listened to the details of her assignment and answered about a hundred more questions. Most of them centered on the possible ways she could get into the protected sites without being detected. Even though the sites were constantly being monitored, Allison knew there was always a way around every obstacle. She just had to find the vulnerability. To her it was like a complicated math problem. There was always a solution. Truth be told, she couldn’t wait to get started.

It was after midnight when Liam called it quits. The night air had turned cold, and as they walked to his car, Allison folded her arms to ward off the chill. After removing his jacket, Liam placed it on her shoulders and drew her close. He didn’t know what perfume she was wearing, but it appealed to him. So did her killer body. Damn shapely for a model. No harm in noticing, he thought, as long as he kept the relationship professional. He wasn’t about to make a move. Allison was important to him because she was going to help him solve a prob

lem. Once that was done, he would be on his way to another assignment. Travel had become a way of life for him. Even though he had friends all over the world, there hadn’t been time for personal commitments, and he had long ago accepted that as part of his job.

“It’s cold for this time of year,” Allison remarked as Liam drove her back to her house. He had turned the heat on, but she was still shivering. “I’m tired of cold weather . . . but I love Boston.”

“Aren’t you planning to move as soon as you graduate?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I’m thinking Santa Clara, California. It’s beautiful there.” Several minutes later she said, “You’re the lucky one.”

“How’s that?”

“You get to travel all over the world.”

“Yes, I do, but it can get old.”

“Maybe you just need someone to go with you.”

They stopped at a red light. Liam turned to her. “Are you applying for the job?”

She had foolishly believed she was beginning to relax with him until he looked into her eyes and smiled. He made her forget her every thought. She tried to be practical and analyze her reaction to him. Maybe it was just that he seemed so much bigger than life. She had done photo shoots with a lot of male models, men with perfect profiles and nearly perfect bodies, but none of them was as ruggedly handsome as Liam. There was a raw sexuality to him. She looked down, and her hands were fisted in her lap. She really had to put a stop to that, she told herself.

She knew he’d noticed. She didn’t think he missed much of anything. But then, he was an FBI agent. He should notice the little things.

“How do you want to do this?” Liam asked.

“Do what?”

“What we’ve been talking about all evening. Getting into the FBI system without being detected.” He smiled as though he could tell her mind was going in an entirely different direction.

“Oh,” she said, pulling herself together. “I’ve often thought about how I’d do it.”

“You’ve thought about breaking into the FBI?”

“No, I’ve thought about how I’d do it. That’s all. The key is finding a weakness.”