office full of basically decent people, even if it was for a good cause. He needed to get an in with Yasmine sooner rather than later.
Alex had to know the real reason he’d lost his FBI career, had to know if Yasmine had been involved, had to know if he’d caused his own downfall or if someone else had helped him out of his job.
His former partner, Ty Connelly, had been insistent that Yasmine was a major suspect in their investigation, and it only occurred to Alex recently to wonder about Ty’s motives. Why had he been so adamant in the face of so little evidence?
Alex made a mental note to give Ty a call and meet him for drinks, where he could maybe pry some details about the investigation out of him. But he doubted it would uncover anything new. Ty was a good agent, a man Alex could trust.
Probably more so than he could trust his own judgment where Yasmine was concerned. That was his most compelling reason for pursuing the investigation on his own—he had to prove to himself that he could get to the truth. If he didn’t, he would live with the doubts about his own competence for the rest of his life. He’d have to live with his own failure, and that was not acceptable.
Forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand, he skimmed the new e-mail messages in his in-box and was about to call it quits for the day when he heard someone clearing his throat behind him. He turned to see Drew Everton, still wearing the goofy Santa hat he’d been wearing all day, pulling his rolling desk chair across the aisle to park in Alex’s cubicle.
“Hey man, congrats.”
“About what?”
“Bagging a date with Yasmine. It’s about time somebody besides Larry Harris got the nerve to ask her out.”
Alex shrugged. “Thanks,” he said, playing along.
And also hoping he could use this opportunity to acquire a bit of information. He’d gotten kind of buddy-buddy with Drew during the short time he’d been at Virtual Active, but he’d yet to broach the subject of Yasmine because there’d never been an unobtrusive time to do so.
“So what can you tell me about her?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
“What’s to tell? She’s hot, she’s intelligent, she’s a programming genius.”
“Is she that girl I remember seeing on the news way back when? The convicted hacker?”
Drew nodded. “One and the same.”
“You think she’s still into that stuff?”
“No way. I talked to her once about her trial and everything. She said she was finished with hacking, that she was afraid she was being watched all the time and couldn’t imagine breaking the law again.”
“You believe her?”
“Why wouldn’t I? She’d be crazy to risk going back to jail,” Drew said.
“Some hackers just can’t give it up.”
“I’d be surprised if she was that type. I think she was just a kid who got in way over her head, and she learned her lesson.”
Maybe Drew was right. There was a part of Alex that wanted to believe that of her, wanted to stop the investigation now. But the bigger part of him wouldn’t. If he could gain Yasmine’s trust, he’d be able to work the truth out of her…or her computer hard drive.
Sure, he might have been able to gain the same information by breaking into her apartment, but he’d never have gotten access to Yasmine herself that way.
“Well,” Alex said, fairly sure Drew didn’t know anything. “I think I’m heading out of here. See you tomorrow, man.”
“Sure, see you.” Drew started humming jingle bells as he wheeled his chair back to his own cubicle.
Alex straightened the papers on his desk, powered down his computer, then stood and pushed in his chair. This damn cubicle was a reminder of everything he’d lost, and how he had nothing left to lose.
If he had nothing left to lose, then screw it. He’d do whatever it took to find out the truth about Yasmine.
2
“WHAT THE HELL is the matter with me?” Yasmine asked.
Cassandra Holbrook looked at Yasmine as though she’d lost her mind, then turned her attention back to sorting through the sale table in the Nordstrom accessories department. She unearthed a pink leather handbag and held it up to admire. “You’re insane?”
“Possibly.”
Only a day had passed since Kyle had asked Yasmine to the office party, and in the ensuing twenty-four hours she’d become obsessed with the idea. She’d done her usual ogling during work hours, but the staring had been accompanied by