he didn’t want to deceive. He was so far removed from the spirit of the season that he might as well have donned a devil costume and called it Halloween.
“Let’s go,” Yasmine said, “before you do anything violent to your eggnog.”
“Definitely.”
The darkest, ugliest part of him had brought Alex to this point, and he realized now his mistake was in thinking that a good end justified dishonest means.
Five minutes later they’d said their goodbyes and were outside, walking back to Yasmine’s apartment. She was tucked into his side, her hip bumping against him as they walked down the street.
“I hope my friends didn’t drive you crazy,” she said.
“They were great. I had fun tonight.”
“Thanks for being my date—and for keeping me company over the holidays, too. You’re still staying the night tonight, aren’t you?”
“Truckloads of eggnog couldn’t keep me away. And I’m the one who should be saying thanks.”
“We’d better stop the lovefest before we make each other sick, don’t you think?”
“I think if you show me any appreciation, it should be for sharing my piece of Yule log with you.”
“Oh, right. My dear friend Cass is many things, but talented chef is not one of them. That Yule log tasted like—”
“Like something better used for kindling?”
Here he was again, nearly forgetting that Yasmine wasn’t his girlfriend or even his date. She was a woman whose company he wasn’t supposed to be enjoying, and damn if he could help himself.
Focus. He had to shove aside his feelings of pleasure, of guilt, and focus on the task at hand. Time to dive into his investigation headfirst. He couldn’t change his plan now, regardless of how underhanded it might be. “It’s great that you’ve moved on from your time in juvenile detention and built a new life for yourself. Your friends seem really nice.”
“They are. I’m lucky I have people who don’t judge me.”
“Except when it comes to Trivial Pursuit.”
She smiled, and he could sense her relaxation. “Right,” she said. “I like them because they don’t care what I can or can’t do with a computer.”
“Aren’t you ever tempted to test out your hacking skills?” he asked, casual as he could be.
She sighed. “I’ll admit, it’s a temptation.”
“I can imagine. I mean, honestly, I used to play around, trying to break into systems, but I sucked. I’d make a terrible hacker,” he lied.
“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly a skill to be proud of.”
“Sure it is. I mean, assuming you were doing it for the right reasons.” His stomach clenched. This was the point where he could ruin everything if he wasn’t careful.
“Now there’s a daring idea.”
“What?”
“That it’s okay to do something wrong if you’ve got a good reason.”
“Sort of like Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.”
“You really believe Robin Hood was a good guy?” she asked, and Alex’s heartbeat quickened.
He knew he was close. So damn close.
“Yeah, doesn’t everybody?”
“Not the rich people he stole from.”
He glanced over at her and caught her smiling. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Promise you can keep a secret?”
“Sure,” he said as evenly as he could.
“Remember that story in the news a while back, about the hackers who were attacking terrorist Web sites?”
“Yeah,” he said, a weird sense of anticipation settling over him. “That was great—why?”
She smiled, all mock innocence. “Well…”
“That was you?”
“Me and some friends. It was a blast.”
Alex felt as if someone had clubbed him in the head. It made sense now. She had been hacking again, but perhaps not in the way he or any of his fellow agents had thought. At least in this case, not for any nefarious purpose.
Holy shit.
“You’re kidding!”
“No, I’m not. But please keep it quiet, okay? I’ve never told anyone, and…given my history, I don’t want word getting out.”
“My lips are sealed. But that’s awesome. I mean, how many Web sites did you take down?”
“Between me and my friends, probably about twenty hits over a two-month period. That’s counting repeats—when they got their sites back online, we took them out again.” She smiled, and he could tell she was proud of herself even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“What made you stop?”
“Guilt, and a weird feeling, like this sense I had that I was going to get caught again. I started feeling like I was being watched.”
“Who would prosecute you for hindering terrorists?”
“I guess I’m just paranoid. I know it sounds crazy.”
“Not at all.” His chest filled with an odd sense of pride in her. In her own way, she’d been helping