Page 51 of Hacking the Holidays
“Well, it’s not enough,” he said. “I had to take the appropriate measures to make sure we get results sooner, not later.”
“What do you mean?” I said, bracing myself for an answer I was sure I would not like.
“I’m sending in reinforcements,” Thorne said. “Agent Babbs is on her way to Leavenworth as we speak. She should be there within the hour.”
“What?!” I said. “That is unnecessary.”
Agent Barbie Babbs—yes, her real name—was my nemesis when I studied for my Criminal Justice Master’s Degree at Boston University. She had accused me of sleeping with my professor to graduate with top honors, all because she saw me having coffee with him one day. Thetruth was, he was the one who had arranged the coffee, to let me know that his friend at the FBI was very interested in talking to me about a job, the job I eventually landed. Agent Babbs had never let it go and is still convinced to this day that I slept my way into the FBI.
“Sorry, Mazini—failure is not an option. You know she’s our top agent in the field, and she just wrapped up another case. What luck.”
If he were talking about bad luck, I would’ve agreed.
“It’s out of my hands,” Thorne added. “I hope the next time I check in with you, there will be a breakthrough in the case.”
Before I could respond, he ended the call.
Then, there was a knock at the door.
“That can’t be her already,” I whispered.
“Nothing would surprise me at this point,” Chloe said, shrugging.
I sighed and walked to the door, hoping and praying it wasn’t Babbs. All I wanted was a hot shower and to relax in bed with a book.
I peered through the peephole, and my stomach dropped.
“This can’t be happening,” I muttered to myself.
I yanked open the door to find Agent Babbs posing—actuallyposing—against the doorframe in an all-white, skintight ski jumpsuit.
“Surprise.” Barbie’s eyes traveled slowly from my boots to my face, taking in every inch of my earth-tone winter clothes. Her lip curled ever so slightly. “Cute outfit, Mazini.Very sensible … and rustic.” Her gaze flicked over my shoulder, her wave at Chloe dripping with condescension. “What’s up, Davis?”
Chloe raised one hand in the most unenthusiastic greeting I’d ever witnessed, but didn’t speak. She also could not stand Barbie and usually referred to her as Bimbo Babbs.
“Can I help you?” I asked, already exhausted from being in her presence for thirty seconds. “It’s getting late.”
Barbie examined her perfectly manicured nails. “Just wanted to let you know I’m here, that’s all. Since you clearly have made no progress on this case, Thorne sent in the big guns.”
“Now’s not the time—we can discuss strategy tomorrow,” Chloe said firmly.
“Strategy?” Barbie laughed, a grating sound that made my eyes twitch. “That’s your problem, all talk, no action. Honestly, you two should take some time off because the cavalry has arrived. Go see a holiday concert. Take a sleigh ride. Maybe do some shopping …” She glanced at my clothes again. “We don’t need to discuss a thing because I already know exactly what I need to do to get the job done.”
“Oh, really?” I crossed my arms. “Enlighten me.”
Her smile turned predatory. “I’m going to pull something straight out of your college playbook.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m going to seduce Sam Monroe to get exactly what we need. It shouldn’t take long. This has never failed me. I’m kind of a modern-day Agent Ninety-nine, just smarter and prettier.”
Something hot and sharp twisted in my chest. “More like Mata Hari. Plus, you’re not his type.”
Babbs laughed and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous—I always get what I want. Men always fall for me.” She smoothed down her flashy jumpsuit. “By this time Friday, I'll have access to his systems, evidence in hand, and probably a marriage proposal. You know how lonely these nerds get.”
“Are you finished yet?” I asked.
Barbie took a step back, still smiling that infuriating smile. “Already leaving.” She waggled her fingers in a wave. “Beauty sleep and all. Gotta look perfect for my date with Sam tomorrow.”
“Your what?”
“You heard me,” she said. “I know where Sam gets his favorite bagel and coffee before work, what route he walks, everything that’s pertinent. Tomorrow morning, I’m going toaccidentallybump into him. By tomorrow night, we’ll be having dinner, and the rest will be history. Watch and learn, then feel it burn.”
