Текст книги "Behind Your Back"

Автор книги: Chelsea M. Cameron

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

The microwave beeps again to remind me that my food is still inside. I set the phone down and go to deal with it.

I’m just going to ignore the message. The person will probably figure out that they’ve got the wrong number and that will be it.

And then I get another message.

You looked bored tonight, Mr. Brand. Did the scallops not agree with you?

I’ve conditioned myself not to panic. In my line of work, panic can kill you. So I sit and think for a moment. I know I need to get rid of the phone. Someone found my number and tracked me to the event. I go to the safe under my bed, unlock it and pull out my backup phone.

The new phone rings as soon as I text Cash about the blocked number.

“What do you mean you got a message from a blocked number? How the hell did someone hack that phone?” I roll my eyes.

“Just the same way you hack phones.”

He sputters for a moment.

“Yes, well, that’s me.”

“There are a lot of people who can hack phones,” I say.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming over. I want to go through it and figure out who did it. Because I will figure it out.” Guess I’m not going to bed anytime soon.

“Sure thing,” I say and then hang up.

Cash arrives just as I get a third message.

You’re not going to get away with this, you know.

I hand him the phone and he starts working with it, pressing buttons and getting a little frown line on his forehead. I grab him a beer and hand it to him without saying anything. I know not to disturb him when he’s concentrating.

“Huh,” he says, squinting at the thing. Then he gets out his laptop and plugs the phone in. Leo comes out to investigate and Cash has to keep pushing him off the keyboard.

“Huh,” he says again and I can’t take it anymore.

“What?” I say, setting my beer down a little too hard. Cash hasn’t touched his yet.

“Nothing. I just need to try something else. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” But he doesn’t seem so confident anymore. Cash is always optimistic, but sometimes he’s a little less optimistic, which signals doom. We’re moving toward doom.

I start running names through my head of who this could possibly be. I have a long list of enemies, most of whom I have by the balls, but every now and then one of them gets stupid and tries to threaten me. Much like Mr. Chambers. He’s a possibility. But he would have had to hire someone to do it, because he definitely isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. Not by a long shot.

“Mother fuck!” Cash yells, slapping his hand down on the coffee table and scaring the shit out of Leo who runs and hides under the couch.

“Nothing?” I ask.

“No. This is some serious shit I’m looking at. But I can crack it. I know I can.” He sounds like he’s positively defeated, which is bad news. Not much gets past Cash.

“Listen, it’s late. Maybe you should let it go and try again in the morning.” Cash shakes his head and slams his hand on the table again. If he does that a few more times, my table is going to be reduced to sawdust.

“No, no, I can do this. If I just…” He starts muttering all sorts of tech mumbo jumbo to himself and I know I’ve lost him.

“Well, I’m beat,” I say and head to bed. He doesn’t even say goodnight.

I don’t get much sleep. My apartment has thin walls, so I can hear the couple who live next to me having rough sex. That I could sleep through, but Cash cursing a blue streak makes me put in earplugs.

I wake up the next morning when Leo pokes me in the eye with his paw. Cash is gone. The only evidence that he was ever here is a few empty beer bottles in the sink.

The phone is gone too, and I hope he was making some progress with it. I need to know who’s gotten my number so I can pay them a little visit and remind them who has the upper hand.

I down some coffee to wake up and then take a scalding shower before I get dressed and decide to head out of the city for a while. There’s someone I need to see.

Five

I take the bus to the lot where I park my car. I only drive it when I go to visit Lizzy. I try to go to see her at least a few times a month, but I don’t get to see her as much as I’d like.

The drive to the facility takes nearly two hours. I’d keep her closer, but then again, it’s a risk.

I park in the visitor lot and head to the front desk to sign in.

“We haven’t seen you in a while, Quinn,” the nurse at the front desk says. They know me by my alias here as well.

“Work, you know?” I say with an easy smile. She smiles back, a dimple in her left cheek. She’s cute and young, wearing scrubs with cartoon characters on them, her short brown hair brushed back in a ponytail. She won’t last long here. This place will chew her up and spit her out like a piece of gum that loses its flavor too quickly.

“How is she doing today?” I ask as she leads me down the hall.

“We’re having a good day,” the nurse chirps, her smile a little too forced. “You picked a good time to come, she’s just had her lunch. It was chocolate pudding day.” That makes me smile. Lizzy loves chocolate.

The nurse, whose name is Jaime, opens the door of Lizzy’s room and announces that she has a visitor.

I walk in and she turns around, her face angry at first, as if we’re disturbing her. She sits on the bed with the television on some loud cartoon. But as soon as she sees my face, she’s up off the bed and throwing herself at me.

“Brother!” she says in my ear as she hugs me.

“Sister,” I say as I hug her back as Jaime backs out of the room and shuts the door.

Lizzy lets go of me, but takes my hand and drags me toward her bed. I sit down next to her and she grins up at me.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come,” I say as she burrows into my chest and I put my arm around her.

“It’s okay. I knew you would come. You always come.” She sighs and I stroke her hair.

“So, what have you been up to? Getting into all kinds of trouble?” She giggles and shakes her head.

“Noooo.” She starts talking about the play she and the other residents are putting on and asks me to help her learn her lines.

“I have to practice a lot,” she says, her wide eyes serious. Even though we’re siblings, we look almost nothing alike. She’s six years my junior, but in a lot of ways, I feel as if I’m her parent.

Lizzy is blonde and small and has the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. When you look into them, what shines back is pure innocence. She’s one of the only people in the world who knows me. The real me.

Lizzy gets the script for the play and proceeds to deliver her lines with dramatic flair. She’s definitely a natural, and I can’t help but laugh as she walks about the room, reciting every word to perfection.

“You don’t need to practice, Lizzy Bizzy. You’re perfect,” I say when we’re done and she takes a bow. I clap for her and she jumps back on the bed.

“Really?” she asks.

“Really,” I say, kissing her forehead.

I hang out with Lizzy for a few hours. She tells me she has a boyfriend, but won’t give me his name. I tease her and tickle her feet and it’s just like it should be. When my mother died, I wanted to take Lizzy to live with me. But I was already deep in my work and couldn’t put her in danger. I should keep her somewhere farther away, but that’s not an option. This is one of the best facilities on the east coast and she loves it here. She has friends and gets exercise and her room is cheerful and full of her art. It’s the best solution that I can manage.

“I miss Momma,” she says as we watch one of her favorite movies.

“I know, Lizzy. I miss her too.” I give her a hug and hold her close.

“Why did Momma die?” she whispers the last word. I know she’s scared of it.

I could tell her it was because of some bad men, but I don’t. I tell her I don’t know.

“Are you sad, Brother?” she says, reaching up and pretending to wipe tears from my eyes. I’ve only cried in front of her once, but she did this then too.

“No, I’m never sad when I’m with you,” I say, smiling and wrinkling my nose. She crosses her eyes at me and then her mind switches to something else.

Eventually she falls asleep, and my phone goes off with an incoming call from Cash. I extricate myself from Lizzy’s arms and head to the bathroom to take the call.

“What have you got?” I ask.

“Why are you whispering?” he says, not answering my question.

“It doesn’t matter. Have you been able to track the phone?” I say in a low voice. I don’t want him to know where I am. I don’t talk about Lizzy to anyone. Not even Cash.

“Fuck me, but no. I’m just going to destroy the fucking thing and hope it doesn’t happen again. We might need to switch to using carrier pigeons for messages. I guess the moral of the story is that we have to be vigilant. Always.” That was bad news. I didn’t like knowing that there was something Cash couldn’t crack. He was completely self-taught, but had a network of other hacker buddies.

“Do you think it’s something you could maybe outsource?” This was a last resort.

“I could. Are you sure you want to do that?” That was a trigger you couldn’t un-pull.

“No. Let’s just hope this is a one-time thing but if it happens again we’ll try that. Listen, I’m in the middle of something so I have to go.” Having one of the nurses walk in right now wouldn’t be the best scenario.

“Sure, sure. Okay, I just wanted to give you heads up. Let me know if anything else happens.” I say I will and hang up. Lizzy is still asleep when I leave the bathroom, so I sit in the recliner next to her bed and wait. I don’t want to leave while she’s asleep. The movie she has on is loud and bright, so I turn it down and change the channel to something quieter.

I go through the events of the previous night, looking for anything I might have missed. Lizzy stirs in her sleep and mutters something.

Perhaps I’m taking on too much with Beaumont. But it’s too late to back out now. The first picture I saw of Saige flits through my mind. I’ve got to do some more research on her. That surveillance Cash set up will come in handy.

Tonight I’ll learn her habits and mold myself into exactly what she wants. Another costume.

But for right now, I’m content to be with Lizzy.

“So she goes to this bar a lot. It’s called Bruce’s. She also has a few friends she sees and then there’s the usual. Coffee shops, bookstore, that sort of thing. Nothing out of the ordinary,” Cash says later that night when I ask him to compile the data he’s gotten from Saige’s phone.

“What about outside the city?”

“Just the beach a few times. Pretty boring. Shouldn’t be much of a challenge.”

“And her friends?”

“I’ll send you their information as well. Most are in her echelon, except for one or two. She’s quite popular it seems.” That figures.

“Thanks, Cash.” I have some work ahead of me tonight. We hang up and I go to my computer to see what Cash added in regard to Saige’s friends. They are all daughters of her father’s friends, with the exception of Lauren “Lo” Hobbes. It’s unclear how the two of them met, but Saige visits her apartment, which wasn’t far from mine, quite frequently. I might want to put a trace on Lo’s phone as well.

She likes to frequent the bar on the weekend, which will be my first chance to make contact.

I go to bed early and Leo comes to snuggle against my chest. Inevitably my thoughts turn to my family. I usually feel a sense of guilt after I leave Lizzy and today is no exception. I’m the only one she has to care for her since I cut ties with all of my family years ago. Partly to keep them safe and partly because I didn’t need them in my life. My father’s family was more resistant, but over time they stopped trying to contact me. And since I live under an alias, my real name is nearly impossible to find anyway.

I also think about Saige. What kind of guy will she like? Charming? Or dark and brooding? I won’t know until I’ve spent at least a little time with her. Maybe I should follow her a bit and see.

As it does every now and then my completely legal work piles up I don’t have a chance to follow Saige for the next few days. Instead I spend my afternoons and evenings at the office.

On Tuesday I meet again with Beaumont. He is cordial and cool as always. I’m good at getting a read on people, but he’s one of those who has a lot going on below a calm façade. I would have to play my cards carefully and consider every move before I make one.

After I finish telling him how his money is doing and what I have planned for the future, we settle into the normal chitchat. I decide not to bring up Saige. I don’t want him to know how interested I am.

“Are you a golfing man at all, Mr. Brand?” I don’t want to be, but I am. All part of the job.

“I play my fair share,” I say with a smile.

“You should come to my club sometime. They’re very discreet. I’m sure I could get you in with no problems.” Every now and then I go play with my legitimate clients, to keep up appearances, but I never play with my illegitimate clients. Best not to go out in public with them.

“I’ll consider it,” I say. He tells me which club it is and, of course, it is one of the most exclusive. So exclusive they still don’t allow women.

“Well, I should probably get back to work. Make some more money so I can send it your way.” He smiles again and we shake hands. I hit the intercom button and Grace hurries to escort him out and I lean back against my chair. I feel a headache building behind my eyes

I grab two pills from my desk and swallow them with some cold coffee. It makes me cringe, but hopefully they’ll do the trick. I close my eyes and massage my temples for a moment, but then Grace’s voice comes through the intercom.

“Your next appointment is here, Mr. Brand.” I take a deep breath before I press the button.

“Send him in.”

The migraine doesn’t seem to care about my medication, and I tell Grace to cancel my afternoon appointments and that I’m heading home.

I take a cab home and by the time we reach my apartment, I can barely crawl into bed. Leo is there, meowing as if he knows there’s something wrong with me and wants to help.

“I’ll be fine,” I say, and even those few words hurt my head. It takes all the strength I have to get up, close the curtains and then get back into bed. I close my eyes and lay on my back, as still as I can. Now I just have to wait for it to pass.

I must have fallen asleep, because my phone starts going berserk and I open my eyes and search for it with my hand. The migraine is subsiding, but only fractionally. A few more hours and it will be completely gone.

Fuck. I missed the meeting. I’d sent everyone a message earlier that I might not make it, but they are still blowing up my phone. I have at least three messages from each one of them. I send Cash a message back to go on without me and I’ll catch up with him tomorrow.

Slowly, I get to my feet and shuffle to the bathroom for a glass of water. I down it and then shuffle to the kitchen to feed Leo. If I don’t, he’s bound to start meowing and my head can’t take that right now.

After he’s fed, I have another glass of water and go to bed.

But not before I get a text message from a blocked number.

Nice try. But I’m smarter than that.

Six

I grit my teeth. It’s like the anonymous hacker is taunting me. Kicking me when I’m down. I crawl out of bed and grab yet another burner phone from my stash. This person is making us go through a fuck ton of phones. Good thing we have the money for this, but shit. It’s starting to really piss me off.

“Cash? I got another message. I can’t get there, so have the guys come here.” I’ve only done this a few times, and they know how to stagger their arrival so we don’t look suspicious.

“Be right there,” he says and then hangs up. Still in pain, I go to the fridge and check to make sure I have enough beer. Usually at least one of them will bring something with them, to give the appearance that we’re just watching football or something. They also wear Patriots shirts to keep up the ruse. Most people are so involved with their own shit they don’t notice what anyone else is doing. Still. You can never be too careful. Ever.

Cash is first to arrive and goes immediately for the phone. I’ve situated myself on the recliner with another glass of water. The headache is down to a manageable level, but if Cash can’t figure out who this hacker is, it might come back with a vengeance. Hardy is second with a case of Bud Light, followed by Row and then Track.

“You okay?” Track asks as he takes his spot on the couch and flips on the television to ESPN and before turning the volume up so we can talk freely. I already checked my apartment for bugs, something we all do regularly.

“Yeah, just have a headache,” I say and then give him a thumbs up.

“Oh, come on!” Baz yells at the television. I give him an icy glare and he points at the screen.

“Did you see that? Fucking ridiculous.” I just keep glaring and Baz mumbles something under his breath that I don’t bother to call him out on. Cash puts his hand up.

“Will you all kindly shut the fuck up? I’m trying to concentrate here.” Baz snorts, but keeps his mouth clamped shut.

I close my eyes and lean back in my chair as Row, Track, Hardy and Baz pass around the beer and discuss who the potential hacker could be. Row starts taking wagers. I open my eyes and snap my fingers.

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” I say. Normally, I’d let them have their fun, but my patience is thin tonight.

They all look at me like I’m a fucking killjoy.

“Fine, do whatever the fuck you want.” I close my eyes again to wait for Cash’s victory dance. He has to crack this phone. He just has to.

Finally, I ask Cash if he’s got anything. He shakes his head slowly.

“I have no idea what this is, but it might be some military grade shit. It’s confounding every single thing I try. I’m sorry, man, but I don’t know what else to do.” Well, fuck.

“Okay, but you can still contact your hacker friends, right?” Cash’s network is a surprisingly trustworthy lot. They look out for their own.

“Yeah, I’ll have them give it a shot.” He types some more as the others discuss who could be doing this.

The problem with what we do is that we have a long list of enemies and those enemies have means to get back at us.

“We’re just going to have to step up security,” I say and some of the guys groan.

“Hey, don’t blame me. I think we need to start doing stuff off the grid.” That means using our cell phones and computers less and doing things the old-fashioned way. The way people did before technology. With paper that could be destroyed.

“I keep saying we should all learn Morse code,” Cash says, not looking up from his keyboard where his fingers are flying so fast they blur.

“Morse code would be nearly useless because it’s easy to crack. Too big a risk,” Hardy says. He has a point, but that doesn’t deter Cash. Yet another facet of his obsession with antiquities.

After the bust with the phone, we got back to our regular business.

“So, haven’t seen the girl yet, huh?” Baz says. “Might be time to call in the big guns.”

“Oh yeah, who’s that?” Row asks. Baz pops him on the arm and I swear to God, if they break my fucking coffee table, they’re all dead.

“I’m going to meet her at a bar this weekend. It’ll be fine. I’ve done this before.” I sound almost depressed but I tell myself it’s just the headache.

“How long you think we can stay here?” Track says. He hates that we have to move nearly every year, but he signed up for this. In case of emergency, we all have several fake identities on file. Passports, documents, etc. in case we need to flee the country and hide out for a while.

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling that after Mr. B, we’re going to have to move on again.” We choose our cities very carefully, and have a list of the next three. Location is always a topic of much discussion and debate and usually ends in blows. I hoped it wouldn’t this time.

Cash tells us that a few of his friends are working on the phone and they finally come up with a name.

“John Smith,” he says, chuckling a little. “You have to admit, it’s kind of hilarious.” I’m not amused. Not a little bit.

“Okay, is that all you’ve got?” He shakes his head.

“No, there’s a bunch of other information, but it’s all useless. The phone only has your number in it and the only messages sent have been to your phone. I can’t get a ping on the location because the phone is off. They’ve also got some fancy schmancy stuff on it that scrambles the information when you try to hack it so for all we know this phone is now at the bottom of a river somewhere. Unless they turn it on again, we’re basically fucked.” Just fucking great. I yank my hand through my hair and pull a few dark strands out. I’m not very good at handling stress all that well, and now that I don’t smoke, it’s even worse.

I give Row the phone to dispose of and make Cash put in an order for more burner phones. We’re going to start going through them like tissues if whoever this hacker is doesn’t cut the shit and stop trying to stalk me.

“I’ll also up the security on those things. A buddy of mine just worked something up for me,” Cash says with a grin. That’s the other thing about his hacker buddies. They get off on making new programs and breaking codes. A lot of them just do it for the joy of it.

After the guys leave, I head back to bed. Sensing I might need comfort, Leo climbs into bed with me and curls up on my chest. I pet him with both hands until the pain fades and sleep finally takes me.

I don’t get any more messages from John Smith and I breathe a tiny sigh of relief that Cash’s methods are working.

On Saturday night, I put on a black shirt, a pair of designer jeans and loafers. I take extra care with my hair and make sure I don’t miss any part of my face when I shave. Cash has been giving me updates of her location and as of ten minutes ago, she was inside, probably enjoying a drink or two with her friends. In fact, I hope she’s a little inebriated. That will make my job even easier.

I take one of the sports cars we own for special occasions. A red Ferrari that drives like a dream. It’s like sex, this car; a woman who does everything you want even before you know you want it.

I arrive at the bar and park near the front. Row is on duty tonight and just a few yards away in case anyone gets ideas so I’m not worried about the car being stolen.

A few people gasp or yell their appreciation as I exit the car. It’s a car, not an amusement park, although I might be able to make decent money giving rides for a fee. I shake my head at that notion and give the bouncer at the front door a nod.

Carefully I scan the room. It’s filled with typical bar fare: the regulars who are camped out on stools and harassing the bartender, groups of coworkers blowing off steam after another long weekend and then there is the girls’ night out crowd. The last classification is what I’m concerned about. Something tells me Saige will be with a group.

It might be dark in here, and a little smoky, but I’d see her red hair anywhere. I’m lucky she has such an obvious trait. I see a woman with red hair, but hers is more carrot than Saige’s, which is a darker auburn.

Going to the bar, I order a beer and find a stool. A man sitting next to me gives me a friendly nod. He has the look of someone who’s spent his fair share of time here. Hunched over, baseball cap pulled down, doesn’t make eye contact with anyone but the bartender when he wants another drink.

I message Cash and he confirms that she is here. Probably in the bathroom. Women seem to go in packs, and there’s probably a line. I can wait. I’ve got nothing else to do tonight but to make initial contact. Catch her eye. Get her interested.

After waiting another half hour, and doing a sweep of the place, I can’t find her. Maybe she’s dyed her hair. So I look not for her hair, but for her eyes and her figure.

Nothing. Either she’s passed out in the bathroom, or she’s not here. I message Cash and ask if he’s absolutely positively sure she’s here and he says he is. Well, fuck.

I must just not be seeing her. I scan again, making sure I search each and every face. There are a few girls that could be her, but aren’t.

Where is she?

Something catches my eye and I glance to my left, but it’s just another girl who isn’t Saige.

I accidently meet eyes with a brunette who gives me a smile and slinks over.

“Hey, gorgeous. You alone tonight?” Her hand slides up my chest, but don’t object.

“Maybe,” I say. Relationships are a game, and sometimes, I just want to play. I give her a half-smile and she moves even closer.

“Want some company?” she says in a husky voice that somehow carries over the noise of the people around us.

“Are you offering?” I say and she bites her lip and nods. Anatomically, she’s what you’d want. The right curves in the right places. She’s also got a sweet heart-shaped face and pretty blue eyes. But I look at her and feel… nothing. That’s not exactly true. I can’t deny that my pants tighten when I think about having her under me. Or up against the wall. Or bent over in the bathroom. I’m not picky about location.

Other than that, I’m lukewarm. If I wasn’t working, I’d probably still take her out back and pummel her against the wall. Sometimes you just need a woman wrapped around you.

But I am working, and I need to find Saige. I pull my eyes away from the girl, whose hand has moved down my chest and is going south.

“Will you excuse me?” I say, pretending I’m headed for the bathroom. The woman pulls her hand back and heads to the next available guy.

I do two more sweeps of the room and I’m starting to get agitated. This isn’t the end of the world, but it’s just fucking frustrating. Nearly two hours wasted and I’ve had it.

After texting Cash and Row, I go back out the front and head for the car. After one last scan of the sidewalk, I’m in the car and sinking back into the leather.

This is the third time I’ve tried to find her. Seems like I’m going to have to resort to stalking to get ahold of this girl.

Making a sound of frustration, I pull away from the curb and head back to the garage where I keep my car. But at the last second, I make a U turn and head the opposite direction. Out of the city and toward the country.

I send Cash and Row another message that I’m going for a drive to clear my head. While I’ve got the car out, I might as well use it.

As soon as I’m out of the city, I exhale and hit the gas. The car roars in approval, as if it’s been waiting for me to let it go. Like a wild horse.

I pass car after car and my mind starts to wander. I turn on the radio and flip through the stations. A strange song comes on and it captures my attention. Something about a hanging tree. I don’t know the song, but I listen as I drive and think about nothing. It’s not often that I get a break like this. My head is always full of names and numbers and aliases and wondering if that guy who’s looking at me too hard knows who I am and what I do. I didn’t realize when I started how lonely a life this is. Most of the time I’m fine being alone. But every now and then it gnaws at me. Grabs ahold of me and drops me into a dark pit.

Sometimes I wonder what things would have been like if I had gone to college and gotten an above-board job. Became a lawyer or chef or a teacher. I never really knew what I wanted to do in school. And then things happened and those normal jobs just weren’t an option anymore.

I shouldn’t be thinking about this.

The further I drive, the more deserted the road becomes. I turn off the highway and start heading down country roads. Long and winding and perfect for stretching this car’s muscles.

I roll down the window and the air blasts over me, making my eyes water.

Saige Beaumont is proving to be somewhat of a challenge, but she’s no match for me.

I’ll get her.