Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 142939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
She whirls and raises the sledgehammer. “What’s going on here? Are there women down there? Is that what you’re doing? Trafficking women or doing some sort of torture sex thing with them or, or, or–”
“Hey.” I drop the eggs and hold up my hands, palms toward her. “What gave you those wild ideas?” Worry streaks through me when I see she’s dusted with drywall, her knuckles white as she holds the hammer. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
“Hurt myself? That’s what you’re concerned about?” Her brow wrinkles. “You … you aren’t mad?”
I glance around at the splintered wood and the bits of drywall. “No. I can fix all this.”
“You aren’t even surprised.” She steps closer, the sledgehammer still raised in her grip. “It’s almost like you knew I was here. Like you already knew what I was doing.”
I shrug. “I did.”
Her eyes round. “What?”
“Listen, how about you lower the sledgehammer, let me check your hands, and then we can talk. Okay?”
“My hands are fine.” She brandishes the weapon. “You need to talk. Now. Start by telling me what the hell you have in your basement.”
I cross my arms. “Probably a lot of the same stuff you have in your office at home. Computers, burner computers, lots of hardware to do illegal things, and plenty of toys and gadgets to hide my tracks.”
“Y-you’re a hacker?” The sledgehammer drops a little.
“No.” I smirk. “Not exactly. Not the way you are, anyway.”
She finally lowers the sledgehammer, likely only because it’s heavy, since her expression is still wary. “You know about me?”
“Yes.”
“No you don’t.” She shakes her head. “Not possible. I saw you first. I got the drop on you. You don’t even–”
“I know you, Maggie.” I step closer to her again because I can’t fucking help myself.
“No.” She backs against the shattered wall. “I don’t think so.”
I lift my hand, and to her credit, she doesn’t flinch as I reach past her and open the hidden panel on the wall, then enter my code. The door clicks in three different places, and a slight whoosh of air denotes that the door is free.
“Go ahead.”
“What’s down there?” She turns her head. “I know. No, I know!”
I wait. Ocean must be going crazy in her ear right now.
“I’m not–no.” She keeps her gaze on me as she reaches for the door handle. “You know where I am, okay? So if you don’t hear from me in like, five minutes, then send in the drones. Okay?”
I try to keep myself from smiling. But it’s difficult. She knows she shouldn’t be doing what she’s doing–and Ocean is yelling that same point in her ear–but she’s opening the door and moving down the stairs all the same.
“Tell Ocean you’re safe with me.” I follow her.
She whirls, her eyes even wider than before. “He knows,” she whispers.
I hear the faintest whine of the speaker in her ear. Ocean just screamed. I pull the earpiece away.
“Hey!” Maggie reaches for my hand.
“She might damage your hearing.” I hold it out to her. “Once she calms down, you two can talk all you want.”
She swipes the earpiece, then–with a bitter look at me–continues downward, the overhead lights turning on as she goes.
Alfie runs down and plops to the basement floor, then jumps onto my chair, causing it to spin and all the lights to come on.
Maggie stops. “You …” She looks around. Her face stares back. All my screensavers and wallpapers are images of her. They aren’t always the best photos since I had to take them from covert locations, but I have plenty. My favorite is the one on the biggest screen–it’s her sleeping peacefully, her mouth open just a little. I still remember the way she snored faintly as she hugged a cat stuffie that night.
Every night, really. She’s a creature of habit. She likes things just so. That’s why I’m always careful to leave everything in her place the way she wants it. Even her father doesn’t pay as close attention as I do. Sometimes he leaves the cans turned the wrong way in the pantry or turns the blinds a few degrees in the wrong direction. I fix all that. For her.
I shoo Alfie out of my seat and enter my password, booting up all the screens. One set is an array of images of her house, the businesses she likes to frequent, and the inside of her bedroom.
The other screens are various streams of data, all of it surveilling Agent Duffy and her crew of hackers. I’ve known about her work for the bureau for a long time. After all, that’s how I found Maggie.
“I don’t believe this.” She stares, open-mouthed, at the screens, her brain parsing the data even faster than mine can. I know for a fact she’s the best hacker I’ve ever had the pleasure of coming across.