Now he needed to cross from the gray area into the black.
He pulled out his secure laptop. It took him nearly an hour to tweak a virus he’d written long ago so that it could worm its way into Mona Hill’s computer and phone—wherever she checked her email. He had to be extremely careful so as not to alert the ISP that he was planting a virus. But one thing he’d learned in his years as a hacker was that businesses were looking for the big hack—the people and foreign governments who were looking to extract vast quantities of information like secrets, credit card information, political dirt. A small, targeted virus was far less likely to be detected. And if Sean’s was detected, it would send the ISP all over the world in search of a ghost. It wouldn’t be worth their time because nothing was being stolen.
He just needed to access Mona Hill’s computer. He’d much prefer to simply break into her apartment, but he couldn’t afford to get caught. This way would take longer, but it was much safer.
When he was satisfied that his virus would work as modified, he uploaded it through the ISP’s own web form. If they even noticed, they wouldn’t trace it to him.
Once Mona Hill checked her email from her computer, he would be able to remotely access her hard drive.
If she really did have the video of Lucy’s rape, he would destroy it.
Then he would destroy her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lucy and Barry arrived at Adeline Reyes-Worthington’s house just after ten that morning. Barry had called ahead to make sure she was there, and while her house manager or personal assistant or whatever she called Joseph Contreras had tried to put them off until later, Barry was firm.
When they were admitted through the gates, Lucy had the distinct impression that she was being watched. Though years ago she had thought the feeling, originally born out of violence, was paranoia, she’d grown to appreciate the instinct. She certainly didn’t dismiss it, so eyed the surroundings carefully.
“What are you doing?” Barry asked.
“There are armed guards all over this place.”
“Where?”
“Right inside the gate was the first one I saw, watching our car from behind the small grove of ash trees. Then two are by the house, they slipped around back when we pulled through. There’ll be another one, to the left, but I haven’t spotted him yet.”
Barry glanced in the rearview mirror and nodded. “I see the one by the gate. How do you know there’s another to the left?”
“I have good instincts when it comes to people watching me.” She didn’t care if he believed her, and she wasn’t going to explain why. Even she didn’t fully understand why—she was just relieved that she didn’t panic anymore when the sensation of being watched washed over her.
There was a car in the circular drive when they arrived. They parked behind it, and knocked on the front door.
Joseph Contreras, opened the door. “As the congresswoman said earlier, this is not a good time to talk.”
“And as I told you over the phone,” Barry said, “we need to speak with her now. We have news about her husband’s death.”
“You could have said that when you called.”
“I didn’t think that there would be a problem seeing her.”
Barry didn’t blink or defer, and Lucy had to admire his ability to command a situation.
Mr. Contreras hesitated only a fraction of a second before opening the door and motioning for them to enter. “The congresswoman is in a meeting. I’ll let her know that you are waiting.”
Lucy looked casually around, then whispered to Barry, “There’s another guard inside, dressed in a dark suit. He slipped down the hall when Contreras opened the door.”
“I caught that, too. Is that five?”
“That I’ve seen.” Or sensed. “Not government, because they would have answered the door if there was a legitimate threat.”
“And we would know. Congressional protection in the district falls under our jurisdiction.”
“Why does she feel she needs a private security force?”
“I intend to ask her.”
Mr. Contreras came through the foyer with two men, both dressed in lightweight suits without ties, appropriate for the warm, humid weather.
The shorter man was an attractive Hispanic male in his late thirties. The taller man looked very familiar to Lucy, but she couldn’t place him. She stared, trying to remember where she’d seen him. Six feet, sandy blond hair, light eyes—a bit husky, but not overweight. He worked out. No one introduced them, and both men left quickly.
Dammit, where had she seen him? It wasn’t recent, but she was usually very good with faces. Maybe he just seemed familiar because he reminded her of someone else.
Contreras didn’t say a word, but escorted Barry and Lucy back to the office with the large picture window overlooking the rose garden.