Fool Me Once(44)

“I can’t stay out here. Too exposed. They won’t stand for it either.”

“They?”

He didn’t reply. He drove her back to Leather and Lace and parked in the same spot. Two cars pulled in behind them. Had the cars been out on the road with them? Maya thought that maybe they had.

The employee entrance had a keypad. Corey punched in the numbers. Maya memorized the code, just in case. “Don’t bother,” he said. “Someone still has to buzz you in too.”

“You type in a code and a guard checks you out?”

“That’s right.”

“Sounds like overkill. Or maybe paranoia.”

“Yes, I bet it does.”

The corridor was dark and stank like dirty socks. They walked through the club. The Disney song “A Whole New World” was blaring. The pole dancer wore a Princess-Jasmine-from-Aladdin costume. Maya frowned. Seemed dress-up wasn’t just for preschool.

He led her past a beaded curtain and into a private back room. The room was gold and green and looked like a Midwest cheerleader uniform had inspired the décor.

“You knew I came here before,” Maya said. “That I talked to that Lulu.”

“Yes.”

She was putting it together. “So you probably watched me leave. You saw me head over toward your car. So you knew I was following you.”

He didn’t reply.

“And those two cars that pulled in behind us. They with you?”

“Overkill, Maya. Paranoia. Have a seat.”

“On this?” Maya frowned. “How often do they clean the upholstery?”

“Often enough. Sit.”

They both did.

“I need you to understand what I do,” he began.

“I understand what you do.”

“Oh?”

“You think secrets are bad, so you reveal them, damn the repercussions.”

“That’s not far off, actually.”

“So let’s skip the rationale. How do you know my sister?”

“She contacted me,” Corey said.

“When?”

Corey hesitated. “I’m not a radical. I’m not an anarchist. It’s nothing like that.”

Maya didn’t give a shit what it was like. She wanted to know about Claire and why he was following her. But she didn’t want to antagonize him unnecessarily or discourage openness. She stayed silent.

“You’re right about secrets. I started out as a hacker. I’d break into places for fun. Then big companies and governments. Like a game. But then I started to see all the secrets. I’d see how the powerful abuse the normal man.” He caught himself. “You don’t want to hear that speech, do you?”

“Not really.”

“Anyway, the point is, we don’t hack much anymore. We give whistle-blowers the freedom to tell the truth. That’s all. Because people cannot police themselves when it comes to power and money. It’s simple human nature. We twist the truth to suit our self-interest. So the people who work for cigarette companies—they aren’t all horrible, evil people. They just can’t make themselves do the right thing because it’s not in their self-interest. We humans are wonderful at self-justification.”

So much for not getting the speech.

A waitress came into the room wearing a top that had the relative width of a headband. “Drink?” she said.

“Maya?” Corey asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Get me a club soda with lime, please.”

The waitress left. Corey turned toward Maya.

“People think I want to weaken governments or businesses. Actually I want the opposite. I want to strengthen them by forcing them to do the right thing, the just thing. If your government or business is built on lies, then build them on truth instead. So no secrets. No secrets anywhere. If a billionaire is paying off a government official to get that oil field, let the people know. In your case, if your government is killing civilians in a war—”

“That’s not what we were doing.”

“I know, I know, collateral damage. Great nebulous term, don’t you think? Whatever you believe, accident or intentional, we the people should know. We may still want to fight the war. But we should know. Businessmen lie and cheat. Sports figures lie and cheat. Governments lie and cheat. We shrug. But imagine a world where that didn’t happen. Imagine a world where we have full accountability instead of unjust authority. Imagine a world where there are no abuses or secrets.”

“Are there unicorns and pixie dust in this world?” Maya asked.

He smiled. “You think me na?ve?”

“Corey—can I call you Corey?”

“Please.”

“How do you know my sister?”

“I told you. She contacted me.”

“When?”

“A few months before her death. She sent an email to my website. It eventually found its way to me.”

“What did it say?”

“Her email? She wanted to talk to me.”

“What about?”

“What do you think, Maya? You.”

The waitress came back. “Two club sodas with lime.” She gave Maya a friendly wink. “I know you didn’t order one, hon, but you might get thirsty.”