A Lot like Love (FBI/US Attorney #2)(13)
Jordan rolled her eyes. “You can cut the dramatic lingo, Mr. FBI. My brother hacked into Twitter and shut down the site after his girlfriend posted a link to a video of her fooling around in a hot tub with another guy.”
“He crashed the entire site for two days. In the most advanced denial-of-service attack anyone has ever seen.”
“It was Twitter. Not the Department of Defense’s website, or the NSA’s. That guy who shut down Facebook last year only got a fine and community service. But in this case, the U.S. attorney—sorry, the former U.S. attorney—argued to the judge that a fine wouldn’t be harsh enough for Kyle because of my father’s money. Too bad for Kyle that he and I don’t live off my father’s money.”
Nick pointed. “Your ride’s here.”
Jordan paused midrant and looked through the windows. She saw Huxley’s car out front. Another SUV, although this one was a Range Rover.
She turned back to Nick. “Tell me something. Are you trying to get a rise out of me, or does being this irritating come naturally to you?”
Nick’s eyes flickered over her with amusement. “I suppose I may be trying to annoy you a little.”
“Why?” Jordan asked in exasperation.
He seemed to think about this. “Maybe because I can. Quite easily, apparently.” He took a step closer and studied her face. “I bet you need a few more people in your life who annoy you, Ms. Rhodes.”
Actually, she had a twin brother in prison who handled the job just fine. And as for Nick McCall’s assessment, she’d gotten used to people making quick assumptions about her because of her father’s wealth. Although they weren’t typically so up-front about it. “Seriously, who are you?” she asked.
He smiled. “Good question. It changes every six to nine months.”
Those were the last words he said before Jordan walked out of the FBI building and climbed into Huxley’s car. When she looked back, she saw that Nick had already left the lobby.
“Ready to go?” Huxley asked.
Jordan turned toward the road ahead of her. “Definitely.”
Four
JORDAN HURRIED TO catch the light at Van Buren Street, thinking that if she never again laid eyes on Metropolitan Correctional Center after next week, she’d be just fine. The building was an eyesore: an ugly, gray triangle that shot up over thirty stories high with tiny vertical slats for windows.
She visited Kyle every Wednesday, having worked out a routine with Martin that allowed for that. She’d been extremely appreciative that her assistant had made it to the store on time that morning despite the near foot of snow the Streets and Sanitation Department was still struggling to clear off the roads. Because her car was snowed in and taxis were always a rarity on bad-weather days, she’d had to ride the L train downtown, which took extra time. Since visitors were permitted at the prison on a first-come basis, she liked to arrive promptly at noon, the start of visiting hours.
Jordan checked her watch as she approached the building and saw that she was right on time. She pushed through the doors and entered the lobby. At least it was warmer than the frigid thirteen degrees outside; at a minimum, the prison had that going for it. At the front desk, she filled out a Notification to Visitors form and handed it over to Dominic, the lobby correctional officer, along with her driver’s license. Having visited Kyle every Wednesday for the last four months, she was familiar with the routine.
“So I’m halfway through season two of Lost,” Dominic told her. Other than getting to see Kyle, the lobby guard and their chats about television shows were pretty much the only things Jordan liked about MCC.
“Wow, you really flew through that first season,” she said.
“What’s up with the Others?” he asked. “They’re creepy.”
“You’ll find out in about another hundred episodes. Sort of.”
“Aw, don’t tell me that.” Dominic handed back her driver’s license. “Are you and your brother sure you’re not missing a triplet? Because the resemblance is uncanny.”
Jordan smiled. Ever since Lost had first aired, people had commented that her brother looked like a certain well-known character on the show—which Kyle hated. Probably for that reason, the prison staff and other inmates made sure to tease him about it as much as possible. Personally, she found the whole thing quite amusing.
“I’m pretty sure there’s no relation,” she said. Either that, or her father had some serious ’splaining to do.
Dominic gestured to her neck. “Don’t forget to leave your scarf behind when you check in your things. I’ll see you next week, Jordan.”
Not if all goes as planned. She felt very covert, having secret knowledge of her deal with the FBI. She realized she needed to be careful not to show that around Kyle. Too often, he could read her like a book.
Per MCC rules, she checked her coat, purse, scarf, and gloves into one of the lockers behind the front desk. A second correctional officer escorted her and several other visitors into one of the elevators and rode with them to the centralized visiting room on the eighth floor. The elevators opened and she and the other visitors were led into a security clearance area. She passed through the metal detectors, waited for a third guard to unlock a heavy set of doors made of steel and bulletproof glass, then stepped into the visiting room.