“Because he didn’t. You were wide open, and none of his bullets even came close.”
Her head lifted and she nailed him with her solemn brown eyes. “You were there?”
“Yeah.”
Recognition dawned on her face. “Green Parka. I thought you were another attacker.”
He nodded, ignoring the pulse of regret in his chest. He’d run flat out, but he hadn’t been fast enough to save the agents.
“So, by helping me escape,” she said, “the shooter made me look guilty. As if someone outside the law needed me alive.”
“However it went down, it definitely made you appear guilty.” If she was innocent, her escape from the FBI also deflected suspicion away from whoever actually stole the files. “Tell me about your offshore account.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Okay.” Scott had taken the old man at his word. There’d been no reason not to believe him. But could he believe her?
“Besides, if I did, no one would be able trace it back to me.”
He didn’t understand her world and what she was capable of, so she could be bluffing, but her assertion seemed plausible. If she could hack into Westgate Defense Systems, surely she could work some sleight of hand with a bank in the Caribbean.
Then again, criminals never expected to get caught. Sometimes they got cocky and did stupid shit.
“If the audit team didn’t find an offshore account, then what triggered Hollowell to have you followed?” Scott asked.
“I discovered that someone had been compromising our past clients using the same vulnerabilities I’d already identified. I told Duncan I thought someone was intercepting my reports, maybe leaving out one of the potential security holes so they could access it later.” She dropped her head to her knees. “That was my first mistake. As soon as he knew I was onto him, he must have put his plan in motion. It wasn’t until the next day that I found out our so-called clients had never actually hired Aggressor at all. I’d been working on bogus accounts all along, digging myself in deeper with every job.”
She punched the bed. “He had us illegally cracking accounts without even knowing it, and since Jay and I never dealt directly with the clients, we were none the wiser. I worked so hard to go legit and now…”
Scott rubbed his forehead with two fingers. The Aggressor job had sounded like such a sweet gig—shadow a quiet hacker chick for a few weeks and keep his stalking skills sharp—but now? Total clusterfuck. “So you’re the perfect fall guy because of your history.”
She nodded. “And I’m thinking you’re perfect because of yours.”
“You mean as a sniper?”
She frowned and pointed to the TV screen, which displayed his passport photo, in which he was clean-cut and clean-shaven and about a million years younger.
He strode forward and jabbed the volume UP button.
“…that Kramer, a security specialist from Virginia, might be working with Sanchez,” the man-on-the-scene reporter said. “The former Marine sniper is wanted for questioning in the death of the two FBI agents who were killed when Sanchez escaped their custody. Police are assuming the pair is armed and dangerous. Central Coast residents are cautioned—”
“A sniper shot the FBI agents,” Valerie said, talking over the reporter. “You were in the area.You’rea sniper. Now you’re here with me. Whowouldn’tthink you’re guilty?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zachari, CA
Sunday, 7:45 p.m.
“MOTHERFUCKER,” SCOTT SAID, HIS face turning several shades of red. “It crossed my mind, but I didn’t really think…”
He might have been stalking Valerie for weeks—which still totally creeped her out—but she understood his anger. Surprisingly, he didn’t pace or stomp around wild-eyed, he merely let out a long, slow breath and swore again.
“Hollowell’s plan was brilliant,” Scott said. “He brings me in to watch you, which casts you in suspicion immediately. He invents an offshore account, which Kurt and I don’t question, because why would we?He’sthe client with a corporation at risk, not you. We have no reason to suspect his motives. He tells me he doesn’t want to fire you or take you off the Westgate account because you might be innocent, and he can’t afford any delays. Good hackers are hard to find.”
Valerie’s stomach clenched. Duncan’s appalling duplicity cut her to the bone. “I always thought he was a pretty good boss. Friendly, fair. No micromanaging, even when something took longer than expected.”
“His patience with the Westgate account was probably limitless,” Scott pointed out. “He wanted in at any cost.”
