Page 112 of Hacking His Code

I race through the Davies system, looking at the many files and folders I’m already familiar with to buy myself time.

Because Hunter told me that certain systems would trigger alarms, I made the rounds, basically being as sloppy as possible, going so far as to include the wordsChicken Dinnerin one of the logins, which was Hunter’s handle when we initially spoke.

A file appears where there was none before with a simple label of: Winner, and I know I’ve hit the jackpot.

I go into the program and download a file, but nothing happens.

“Time’s running out,” a voice booms from unseen speakers. “Better hurry.”

Please, don’t let it end like this….

Hunter

Father’s face lifts with surprise. “I have the coordinates.”

I rush to him and see a map on his screen, a blip flashing on a corner near a marina.

“Get to the roof,” Father instructs. “I’ll send the file to her captors when you’re a minute out. It will give them enough time to forward it, but not enough to put Ari at additional risk.”

I’m almost out the door when I look back and hesitate.

My father is back behind his screen, doing things to help me right the wrong I helped create.

And he’s going to pay a pretty big price.

If only I had told him sooner, maybe then we could have avoided this.

I jog back to the terminals and wrap my arms around him. “Thanks, Dad.”

His hand comes up and pats my forearm. “For you, anything.”

Arinessa

After hoursof searching through various programs, the door opens, and the guy who’s been holding me walks through, gun in hand.

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, knowing what comes next.

“I’ll try harder,” I plead. “I just need more time.”

“They’re giving me the file,” he says. “It’s uploading now.”

“Then ransom me! The baby belongs to Hunter Davies, and believe me when I say he’d pay a steep price to get me back alive.”

“I wish this was just about money,” the man says. “I don’t want to do this, but I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything!”

He pulls off his mask, and I find myself looking in the eyes of Chet Inglewood.

“Chet?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want this.”

“But you’re friends with Ernestine.”

Chet chuckles dryly. “Friends? I barely know her now, she’s so depressed. I stayed close to the family and feigned concern in case they had new information. Now, I’m cleaning things up.”

“At least tell me who hired you.”