Page 52 of Critical Alliance (Rocky Mountain Courage 3)

He pressed harder on the brakes. “That better?”

“I’ll be better when we’re in the valley. To answer your questions, we felt like we were doing something good, like my father. He was accepting money from wealthy people to build his company.”

“Without their permission?” Alex said.

“Oh, I agree. I know I made a terrible mistake. I already paid the price. A big price.”

“Okay. No judgment.” He should have kept his mouth shut.

“My friend had hooked us up with someone else who ended up calling the shots. And things got messed up. We were both scared. Too scared to go against him. We moved money, and it no longer felt like we were being Robin Hood. My original partner agreed we were getting in too deep. And then we went to the FBI Cybercrimes Division and turned ourselves in. We were more scared of...”

“Who?”

Mackenzie didn’t answer for a few seconds. “I don’t know who he was.”

“Then why were you so scared?”

“Because of what he could do. He became increasingly belligerent and threatening. I didn’t have enough experience to stand up to him. I never should have allowed him to pull me in to begin with.”

“Like you said, you were young. Everyone makes mistakes when they’re young.”

“Not necessarily on such a grand scale.”

“You might be surprised.” He focused on taking the last snaking curve in the road. “How did your family take it?”

“Dad was so disappointed. Devastated, even. Here he was trying to get investors for his computer tech company, and he has a ‘notorious’ hacker child.” Her voice grew thick with pain. “I was a juvenile delinquent sentenced to community service. Eventually, we moved to Montana for the Hanstech new headquarters, but I didn’t live there long because I left for college.”

Alex pulled over to the side of the road and shifted toward her. He took her hand. “Mackenzie, you don’t have to tell me, but I think it might help me to assist you if I knew what happened when you left.”

“I don’t see how.” She wiped at the tears, looking so much younger than she was. Young and vulnerable. But he knew that childhood memories could often keep people vulnerable for decades.

“Humor me.”

“Before I left for college, Rowan told me if I cared about Dad and what he was trying to build, I would go far away and stay away. I was a criminal, and that would affect all of them. I already felt guilty, but Rowan drove the point home and never let me forget. I went off to school and got my degree and built a life away from them. So, see . . . I paid a price. And it was much too high.”

Alex searched his heart for the words that would comfort her and take the pain away.

“Mackenzie”—his heart palpitated with the weight of her story—“people leave home and build lives away from their families every day, and not because they’ve committed a crime. Life has a way of coming up on us fast until we look back and realize we failed to treasure every moment. I’m saying, I have regrets too. Sure, you left, but did you have zero contact with them?”

“Oh, of course we talked on the phone or video chatted. When Dad had time. I came home for the holidays. But at some point, I became overwhelmed with learning about cybersecurity, focusing on getting that degree that took away the pain. Then Dad died. He had been headquartered in Montana for two years—I had just turned twenty. Then when Rowan and Nora were running the company, I knew how my brother felt about me.”

He steered from the side of the road and headed toward his cabin in the woods. “And your sister? Were you close?”

“Not like you might think. I don’t believe she held the same sentiment as Rowan about my presence, but she didn’t stand up for me either.”

And that had to hurt. “You never came back?”

“We tried a few holidays together after Dad was gone. I came back, but our relationships were always strained—and then the last several Christmases, everyone had their own plans. I hadn’t been back in years until this week.”

“Right, because you got the cryptic message. And your thoughts went immediately to Hanstech and your family.”

“What else could I think?”

“Do you still have the message? I’d like to see it when we stop again.”

“Where are we going?”

“If it’s okay with you, let’s crash at my cabin. There’s no technology whatsoever, so we’re safe from that threat. You can take the bed, and I’ll take the sofa. I have an idea of where you can stay that will be safe, and I’ll arrange for that tomorrow.”