Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Isobel winced and held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I swear, he doesn’t keep normal passwords lying around.”
Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose, the tightness of a headache starting. “Just spit it out.”
“Okay, well, you see, Elle makes Callum put all his passwords in some cyber vault, and she changes them all the time.” She rolled her eyes. “Apparently, you can’t have the same password for everything, and you need to change them more frequently than every few years.”
“No kidding,” Rodrigo said, looking amused. He was the only one. Everybody else glaread at Isobel.
“Anyway,” she said, “to get into this password vault, you need to scan your face, answer some questions, and then get a code sent to your phone. But Callum kept forgetting the answers to the questions he set.”
There was universal groaning this time.
Isobel drew back her shoulders as she scowled at them all. “They had to be hard questions, not something anybody could guess.” It was a poor attempt at defending her husband, and they all knew it.
“Did he write down the answers to his questions somewhere?” Belinda asked.
“No.” Isobel looked nervous again. “But he was worried he’d get locked out of the password vault because he kept getting the answers wrong.” She licked her lips and shifted on her feet.
“Time’s a ticking here,” Ryan said wearily. “You want to get to the punchline?”
“Fine.” She scowled at him, which would have been more intimidating if she wasn’t the size of a Chihuahua. “He was concerned that in an emergency, he wouldn’t be able to get into the password vault fast enough to access the self-destruct code—that’s what he called it. He didn’t mention anything about wiping the server. So…” She twisted her hands in front of her. “He wrote the code down, and we hid it somewhere Elle wouldn’t find it.”
Rochelle’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she spoke. “Elle searches Callum’s office for passwords? Wait. Callum really does write them down?”
Isobel shrugged like it was nothing. “He’s old-fashioned. He likes having things on pieces of paper.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “Usually, Post-its that he sticks to his computer.”
“And this is the crack team that people fall over themselves to hire,” Beast drawled.
“Hey,” Isobel snapped. “You’re part of this crack team too.”
He just grinned.
“Where did he put the code, Isobel?” Ryan had to fight the urge to shake the information out of her.
She looked sheepish again. “We bought a special lamp with a false bottom for my desk in reception. You turn it upside down and twist it, and it swings out. The code’s on a slip of paper inside the little cavity.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before Claire spoke. “I’m not sure whether to hug you or smack you upside the head. We talked about how it might come down to deleting all of Benson Security’s data. You were there when we worried about getting the codes when everyone who has access to them is in jail. And you were sitting on it all this time. This from the woman who was offended that we kept asking about Callum’s hidden passwords!”
“To be fair,” Isobel said, sticking her nose in the air, “this isn’t a password; it’s a self-destruct code.”
Claire looked like she might launch herself at Isobel any second and start pulling her hair. And judging by the looks on faces around the room, she wasn’t the only one. Somebody needed to defuse the situation fast.
Guess that somebody was him. “Look, there’s no point in getting upset. We know where the code is now, and that’s the main thing.”
From the way Claire and Isobel were glaring at each other, he wasn’t sure they agreed.
“Deleting all of Benson Security’s files must be our last resort.” Rochelle, thankfully, was still focused on their problem instead of on making Isobel pay. “The business needs those files, and we’ll have to start from scratch if they disappear. We’ll lose clients, not to mention all the data we’ve gathered on organized crime, cartels, and human trafficking. Doing something that extreme could end our company. We might never recover from it.”
There was a heavy silence while Rochelle’s stark warning sank in.
“Claire,” Ryan said. “Can you call Katy to see if she’s found anything useful on Darian Fitzwater? If she can help narrow down our search, we might not have to wipe the server. Instead, we can take what we find to Commander Fitzwater and negotiate.”
Reluctantly, Claire dragged her gaze from Isobel. “I’ll call her now.” She pulled out her phone, set it on the kitchen counter, and put the call on speaker.
“Hey, Aunt C,” Katy said, sounding far too awake for the time of night. “Is there something else you need me to do?”
“No, what we need is an update on your background check into Darian Fitzwater.” She glanced around the room. “You’re on speaker with everyone.”
“Hey, guys,” Katy said cheerfully.
Rochelle got up from her chair at the dining table and came over to Ryan. “How old is Katy?” she asked quietly.
Inwardly, he grimaced. “Sixteen. She’s the only other hacker we know.”
Rochelle’s jaw tightened, and for a second, Ryan thought she’d pull rank and shut everything down.
“Please tell me you don’t have her trying to hack the police,” she said.
“No.” Ryan shook his head fervently. “We were very specific about telling her not to hack. Or go on the dark web.”
“Uh-huh.” Rochelle didn’t sound convinced.
“Okay,” Katy said. “So, I’ve been digging around, and most of the stuff I can find on this guy is already public knowledge. There’s, like, a ton of gossip blogs about his exploits. It’s all rich-kid stuff—sleeping around, partying hard, drugs, fast cars, and boats. All soooo cliché. You’d think rich people would have more imagination. Whatevs. Anyway, I asked my hacker friends to help me find the real goss.”
Rochelle shot Ryan a look of censure, and he stifled a groan.
“They came up empty,” Katy said. “The dude cleaned up his act a couple of years ago, and now he’s all into his girlfriend. Oops, fiancée . She’s one of those rich, horsey types. Anyways, we weren’t getting anywhere fast, so I searched the dark web.”
Ryan groaned again, and Rochelle glared at him.
“And,” Katy continued, “apart from more tall tales about his misspent youth…” She paused. “Is it still your youth if you’re in your twenties? Do rich people get a longer youth time than the rest of us? They don’t seem to mature as fast, that’s for sure.”
“Katy,” Claire interrupted. “Did you find anything of use on the dark web—after we very specifically told you not to go there?”
As reprimands went, it was kinda weak.
“I know, I know, but what else could I do?” Katy said. “This is like life or death for Lake, isn’t it?”
Claire looked to the heavens for patience. “Not to mention your actual family members,” she said pointedly.
“Them too,” Katy said. “Anyway, it was a big old waste of time. I can give you his old drug dealer’s deets but not much else. Plus, I don’t think that will help anyway. The guy’s in jail. I thought, you know, that this might be a Hashtag Me Too situation or something. Like, he might have assaulted a girl, and they covered it up. Rich people do that a lot. Every day, there’s a new Insta story about how some rich guy got away with feeling some girl up. Or worse. It’s awful, Aunt C. They shouldn’t get away with stuff just because they have money.”
“I know, honey,” Claire said gently. “It is terrible.”
“Yeah, well, we gotta fight the patriarchy to stop that crap,” Katy said with the wisdom of youth. “But”—she sighed—“there’s no hushed-up assault stuff in Darian’s past. I mean, he treated his girlfriends like crap, but I guess there’s no law against that. This world sucks,” she said in disgust.
“So, you’ve got nothing?” Ryan said as the bottom fell out of his stomach.
“I’m sorry.” Katy suddenly sounded very young. “I looked everywhere I could think of.”
Ryan felt instant remorse. “Don’t be sorry, Katy. You did a good job, and you were a great help. It’s not your fault that I hoped there’d be something more to find.”
Claire flashed him a grateful smile. The last thing any of them wanted was to make a teenager bear the weight of responsibility for their current predicament.
“I can keep looking,” Katy offered.
“No,” Claire said, and Ryan nodded his agreement. “You’ve done a great job, but now it’s time for us to move on to other options. Thanks, honey, and stay off the dark web, do you hear? Otherwise, I’ll tell Uncle Matt, and he’ll put you back in Invertary’s jail.”
“That’s just mean,” Katy said, and you could almost hear her pout.
“Thanks, Katy,” Ryan called, and the rest of the team chimed in before Claire ended the call.
For a second, they all stared at each other, weighed down by the knowledge that their options were fast running out.
“If we have no idea what we’re looking for,” Beast said, “we’ll never find it before the commander’s hacker. And the more time they have on our server, the worse it will be for all of us.”
Ryan ran a hand over his head. It was definitely aching, but not with the migraines that sometimes assaulted him. This was more the dull ache of exhaustion and anxiety.
“Guess we have a decision to make,” he said. “We either wipe the server—and the Benson Security business along with it. Or we wait and hope we find what we’re looking for in the meantime. But with that option, we risk Fitz gathering what he needs to lock up the rest of our team for good. He might not be able to admit what he finds into evidence, but it will definitely help him locate information that he can use in court. Our choice is stark: no business or no team. What do we do?”
“Are we sure we can’t download all the files before we wipe the server?” Isobel asked.
Ryan shook his head. “Too much data. It would take days to download. And that’s a lot of time for Fitzwater’s hacker to have access to the server.”
Faces had fallen, and the sour scent of lost hope lingered in the air.
“There’s only one choice here,” Rochelle said at last. “We do the right thing. We save our people.”
“Yeah,” Isobel said, wide-eyed. “We can always rebuild the business, right?”
The answer was grim silence.
“Okay.” Ryan stood. “Then there’s no point in continuing to hunt through the files.” He glanced at Belinda. “Can you call Katrina and put her on speaker?”
She did as asked, and Katrina’s voice filled the oppressively quiet kitchen. “Hi, everybody, what’s happening?”
Ryan brought her up to speed. “Do you think you could sneak up to reception and grab the code from the lamp?” he asked hopefully.
“No, that isn’t possible.” There was genuine regret in her tone. “There’s a cop posted at the reception desk at all times. Word is they’re worried someone from the team will come back to the building to deliberately disrupt the investigation. There’s half a dozen other officers still here. They move around from office to office, searching the place. So far, nobody’s found the panic room, but there’s a good chance they’ll decide to move the bookcase in front of the door. They can’t get in—unless they bring in a work crew to cut their way through—so for the moment, I’m secure here. If I leave, they’ll see me, and that will give them access to everything in the panic room too. There’s a lot of hard copy information in here, Ryan. Stuff about Benson Security that the cops might find useful.”
“I know.” He ran a hand over his head as his brain raced, searching desperately for a solution. And then it hit him. “Isobel, you remember when my grandparents took over the panic room and scared the crap out of everyone?”
She grinned. “That time Callum flashed Rachel?”
“That’s the one.” He grinned back as everyone else frowned. “Katrina, I have a plan. We’re going to create a distraction so I can sneak in and get the code. You won’t have to leave the panic room; it can all be done from there. You in?”
“Definitely,” she said.
Rodrigo stood. “You’re not going alone,” he said to Ryan. “I’m coming with you.”
Ryan nodded, grateful for the backup.
“You hear that?” he said to Katrina. “Rodrigo and I will come get the code.” He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Does four a.m. work for you?”
“Of course. What do I need to do?”
Ryan motioned for Belinda to bring the phone closer as he sat back down at the kitchen table. “You got a notebook and pen handy?” he asked Katrina before launching into an explanation of how all the controls in the panic room worked.