Page 62 of Filthy Liar

Bingo.

“There’s an ethernet connection,” I murmur into my headpiece. “Connecting the laptop now.”

“Standing by to reconnect power.”

Jason sprays black paint over a small camera in the ceiling. “Ready when you are.”

The lights flicker back to life and the computer boots up. I watch as Wilson’s remote access runs an override into the backend of the system.

“Okay, you’re in. What are we looking for?”

We’d brainstormed a bunch of search words and key phrases, which he has bots looking for, but I’m also going to poke around manually.

Sometimes, nothing replaces good old human intelligence.

Or human stupidity. It takes me five clicks deep into a folder to find a virtual locked box. Might as well put a red flag on it. “Wilson, can you help unlock this for me?”

Ten seconds later, the folder opens. I recognize the file naming conventions from what was released during the Lively investigations. “This is it.”

“Copy it in batches,” Wilson reminds me. “Pick the stuff that’s most valuable first.”

It’s all valuable. Every image is a young girl who had her innocence stolen. Every email is proof that could put someone away for a long time.

My heart pounds as I carefully select the first hundred files and copy to the USB drive, which sends it to Wilson.

“We have company,” Wilson says. “Front entrance. Two guys.”

Jason taps his radio in acknowledgment. Then he kisses me. “Stay here.”

“You have to stop—” I cut myself off. “I’ll stay here.”

“This is where the good stuff is, anyway. You keep copying those files. I’ll be right back.”

I grab another hundred files. Then another.

I’m halfway through the folder when I hear a creak in the wall. Heart pounding, I select the rest and say a silent prayer as I drag it to the USB drive. Here’s hoping they go through.

I shove the computer deep under the desk as a panel on the wall opens, and Mack Evans steps into the room.

He’s armed, and furious.

He prowls in my direction, and not for the first time, I note the brotherly resemblance in the shape of their bodies, the way they hold their arms at their sides, the killer look in their eyes.

I much prefer Jason’s killer stare, if I’m being honest. This one has zero charm and is actually homicidal.

“You’re a nosy fucking bitch, aren’t you? Couldn’t let a dead man’s secrets die with him.”

“Nice to see you, too.” I won’t show him fear. I won’t give him that thrill. “I thought you had a lunch date with a politician.”

Mack sneers at me. “I’ll be late for it, I guess. Got stuck in traffic. Don’t have a motorcade…yet.”

“How does this end?”

“It doesn’t.” He gives me a chilly smile. “Why would you think it ends here? You might end here, butit, the grand experiment, it never ends.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re naïve.” His eyes flash. “This is fun. Is this what it’s like with Jason? No wonder he can’t resist you.”

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