“And that he went to jail.”
A shadow crossed her face.
“But you don’t have to start at childhood,” he said. “I’m asking about the last few weeks.”
Valerie stared at her bare feet. At some point after arriving in balmy southern California, she’d painted her toenails—and fingernails—an orangey pink that looked great against her light brown skin. Tasty, like a tropical fruit.
Head in the game, Kramer.
“I think he’s the reason I’m in this mess.”
“Explain.”
She crossed her ankles and rested her head against the wall. “Hollowell knew my background. I learned almost everything about hacking from my papá, and I helped him with his cons until my early teens. He went by DarkHand in his phreaking days, and there are still plenty of people out there who would recognize that handle. He was a bit of a legend,” she said, with a mixture of distaste and reverence.
“Freaking?”
“Phreaking with a P-H. Phreakers cracked the phone networks, mostly to make free long-distance calls. Anyway, who better for a scapegoat than the girl whose dad is a famous black hat hacker in jail for running a massive credit card fraud site, among other things? I’m the obvious choice.”
She was right. If Hollowell—or someone else—had set her up, she was the perfect scapegoat.
“I’ve been following you for nearly a month. Let’s cover that time frame.”
She looked away with a frown. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”
He cocked his head to the side. “I’m good at my job.”
“Were you ever inside my apartment?” Her voice rose, thin and tight as she met his gaze again. “Or my house here?”
“No.” If he wanted her trust and honesty, he had to give it. “I did go through your trash.”
“Why?” Her nose wrinkled.
“Looking for clues about your plans. Trying to figure out who you were working for.”
She shivered. “I still feel violated.”
What could he say to that? He had absolutely invaded her privacy. Still, he wasn’t going to apologize. If she was guilty, he had no regrets. And if she wasn’t, he couldn’t change the past.
“Were you really a Marine, or was that just part of your cover story?”
He nodded. “I was a scout sniper. Scott Kramerismy real name, but I don’t work at Aggressor. That was my cover. I work for Steele Security, a contractor in Arlington. Hollowell hired me specifically to follow you.”
Valerie shook her head slowly and stared unseeing at the tacky wood paneling on the far wall. “I can’t believe he went to all of this trouble. And those poor FBI agents and Jay…” Tears shimmered in her pretty brown eyes. “There must be some serious money at stake.”
Either she was a stellar actress, or she was actually innocent. Although, considering her background running scams with her father—what kind of nutcase would call himself DarkHand, for Christ’s sake?—she might just be snowing Scott completely. “For the kind of information we’re talking about,hellyeah.”
She sighed. “He seemed like such a patriot. I mean, he started Aggressor after he left the army because he wanted to keep fighting in any way he could. I’d like to think money wouldn’t be enough to sway him.”
“Maybe it wasn’t.” Her attitude toward money gelled with his impression of her from the start. But that proved nothing. “Blackmail and extortion are pretty effective too.” But they were getting too far off track.
“The part that I can’t get past is your rescue,” he said. “Two good men are dead because someone wanted you to run. That’s pretty damning.”
Her jaw tensed. “I agree, but I have no idea who would have done it.”
“Your buyers would have a vested interest in your escape. At least until they got what they were looking for.”
“If I had buyers.” She let loose a long sigh and dropped her head into her palms. Was he imagining the slight tremble in her shoulders? “How do you know the sniper wasn’t trying to kill me too?” she asked, her voice muffled.
