Page 90 of Hacking the Holidays
Then, when we were just a few steps apart, Zara launched herself at me. The hug practically knocked the air from my lungs—fierce, desperate, and almost bone-crushing.
I wrapped my arms around her and held on, my eyes closing, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, feeling the solid reality of her in my arms.
She was here. I was free. This was real.
We didn’t speak—we didn’t need to. We just held eachother like we were the safest place in the world, like nothing could touch us as long as we stayed right here.
Zara wouldn’t let go of the tight hug, and I would have stayed there forever, but we’d have time for that in a more private setting.
“I missed you so much, Sam. I was scared.” She tightened the hug a little more.
“I missed you too,” I said.
Finally—reluctantly—we pulled apart when the reporters were surrounding us, invading our space, ruining our moment.
“How was the jail bratwurst?” Zara asked with a smirk.
“Very dry,” I said. “The potato salad was decent, though.”
And despite everything, I smiled.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
“We have a lot to talk about.” Zara grabbed my hand and pulled me toward her car.
“We certainly do,” I said. “I’m curious to know how you pulled off the miracle of the century in forty-eight hours.”
“It wasn’t really a miracle—more like controlled chaos.” She cranked the engine and blasted the heater. “Buckle up. You’re in for a wild ride, and I’m not talking about the highway.”
I strapped in. “I’m listening.”
“Okay, first, Kaiserhof’s security footage. I got it within an hour of your call.” Zara’s eyes gleamed. “It showed Beverly breaking into the library at 7:47 AM. Crystal clear.”
“That’s what I hoped for,” I said.
“But that wasn’t enough to get you out because it didn’t show her planting the evidence.” She pulled onto the highway. “So I started digging. Beverly’s financials—bank records, phone logs, everything. I found payments from a shell company. Apax Security Consulting. Fifty grand over two months.”
“And who’s behind Apax?” I asked.
“J.C. Whitmore.”
“Wow … Whitmore Development.”
He was one of the “Bad Boys” I took money from.
“Bingo,” Zara said. “Obviously, Whitmore wasn’t happy with you taking his money, but he couldn’t report your theft without exposing his own fraud. So, here’s where it gets interesting because Whitmore is connected to Deputy Assistant Director Badges, who has investments in his company.”
I could see where this was going. “Badges ordered Beverly?—”
“To plant evidence, create probable cause, and get you arrested. Clean, convenient, politically motivated.”
“How did you prove all this in two days?” I asked.
Zara hesitated. “With Eleanor’s help.”
Wow, I didn’t see that coming.
I froze. “So you know …”
