Page 51 of Moonlit Hideaway
“Understood,” Reed said. “But for the next few weeks, you have to avoid contact with known associates of your past. We need to make Marco believe that Agent Patterson is living your life as usual, so we need you to stay away. Unfortunately, it means you cannot call your mother.”
Sierra’s heart clenched at the thought of not speaking to her mother. “As long as I stay alive, it’s worth it, but it will be hard to fool my mother.”
“Not with the technology we have,” Agent Patterson said, her eyes bright with almost religious fervor. “But I won’t speak to her if you’re worried.”
“She won’t take no for an answer, and she’ll pester you,” Sierra said, knowing her mother. “As soon as you resurface as me, she’ll want to visit and push you into marrying Marco.”
“Then, I’ll be in touch with your assistant, Lila, and have her tell your mom you’re in treatment for depression and grief over your father’s passing. That you can’t talk to her because the therapists recommend not dredging up your past.”
“But how will you fool Lila?” Sierra’s doubts grew with each overconfident pronouncement.
“Simple. We’ll use artificial intelligence to synthesize your video image and voice, so when I video conference with Lila, she’ll see and hear you. Once you’re done with the coffee, I can take you to the tech room, where we’ll video your face from all angles and record your voice. We also have your singing and dancing videos, and we can use artificial intelligence to create new songs using your voiceprint so that your online audience will be engaged.”
“AI can even produce new dance moves for you,” Reed said. “Trust me, no one will know it’s a deep fake.”
“Okay, then, let’s go do the voice print and video clips, although right now, I dyed my hair, so?—”
“AI can change your hair color to anything we want,” Patterson said. “You’ll be amazed at the avatar we can generate.”
Reed looked up from the file folder he was rifling through. “As soon as you’re ready, you and Agent Patterson can go get your information transferred. Meanwhile, Hank and I can get to know each other so that I can impersonate him in a pinch.”
The two agents seemed to relish impersonating people, so Sierra shrugged. “Okay, as long as you guys catch Marco and his gang. I’m ready to make the voice print and deep fake dance moves. Just don’t make me look like a robot.”
“Why not? It might be the new thing.” Agent Patterson did a stiff-legged curtsy and said, “Boop!”
“Glad that’s over,” Hank said as he unlocked a white Honda Accord that might have been a rental car. It had Florida plates and was around ten years old. They were inside a parking garage filled with government vehicles and had been cleared to go. The police had taken Sierra’s things to the station, and Agent Patterson had retrieved them using Sierra Rayne’s identification card. “At least you have some of your things.”
“Yeah, I hate that she got to keep the guitar, but it has the tracker, so…”
He loaded the rest of Sierra’s luggage into the trunk. “You’ll get it back soon enough. What do you want to do now?”
“Get out of Dodge.” She looked at the cell phone Agent Patterson had given her. “She’s already posting on my social media, and people are engaging.”
“That’s a good thing. It’ll draw Marco’s attention. Ready?”
“Yeah, I’ll try not to stalk her, but I can’t help it. It’s surreal with this AI deep fake thing. This video looks like me—well, it’s a little jerky, and I’m not…”
“Hey. It’ll be okay.” His hand covered hers. He knew she was worried about her image and whether her star would still shine. “I don’t know about you, but I’m claustrophobic here.”
“You want to go back to Hattokwa?” Her words were measured as she watched his reaction.
“Let’s just drive,” he said. “You pick the offramp, and we’ll play it by ear. We’re on our honeyweek, after all.”
That brought a smile, and so he kissed her softly, amazed at the privilege of being the man to protect this beautiful and delicate woman. As he opened the door for her, a sedan drove bya little too slowly. It had tinted windows, and something about it raised the hairs on the back of Hank’s neck.
Sierra ducked into the car quickly and let her hair cover her face. The sedan backed up and put on its signal as if waiting for the space. The garage was crowded, so this could be nothing.
“I don’t like it,” Hank said as he backed out carefully. “What if our cover is blown already?”
“We can’t be looking over our shoulders all the time,” Sierra said, still glued to her phone and scrolling through her social media accounts. “My father’s tentacles stretched everywhere. Anyway, no need to worry. Dana’s husband, Chauncey, doesn’t particularly like Marco, nor does Gloria’s husband, Enrico. They might throw Marco to the FBI wolves if we’re lucky.”
“You’re counting on the informant to turn the tide?” He exited the garage without being followed.
“That’s why, in the end, I agreed to go to the FBI. I didn’t give Agent Patterson any information on the rest of the family—only Marco. I’m okay with the rest of the family surviving as long as I don’t have to marry Marco if that’s what you’re asking.”
Hank sighed, his fingers flexing on the wheel. He was out of his depth in these shadowed waters Sierra had to navigate. Where did ethical lines blur into that sinister gray zone?
“I know you grew up playing by different rules,” he said carefully. “But will your family appreciate your discretion?”
