Hidden (Nicole Jones #1)(69)

We reach the room, and I pull out the key and let us in. Ian puts the duffel bag on the bed and walks around, checking the room out.

‘Looks like Little House on the Prairie in here,’ he says, fingering the lace curtain.

I am pulling the laptop out from under the bed, careful to push the backpack with my money in it further into the darkness beneath. He doesn’t notice, and I begin to breathe a little easier. I open the laptop on the desk and boot it up.

‘What is it that you need me to do?’ I ask.

‘It’s like before,’ he begins, but I hold up my hand.

‘No explanations. Just tell me straight out. We don’t have much time, and I hope I don’t have to get in anywhere that’s too difficult or too time consuming. Is it the bank? The same bank?’

‘Yes.’

I already know how to get past the firewall, but then I remember. ‘I tried to sign in there before and it wouldn’t let me in.’

Ian gives me a panicked look. ‘What?’

‘I remembered the username and password. I tried them, but they didn’t work.’

Relief floods his face. ‘No, no, those were for the site where you’ll transfer the money. You have to find the username and password for this account.’

But before I do anything: ‘Whose?’

He hesitates.

‘Whose account, Ian?’

He purses his lips, then says, ‘Paul Michaels. I’m going after Paul Michaels.’

I am confused. He is Paul Michaels. Isn’t he?

‘Listen, Tina, just do it, OK? Stop asking questions. You said you would do it.’

As if my word still means something. I stare at him for a few seconds, then turn to the laptop. I use the VPN and get to the bank website. ‘You haven’t made this easy.’ I find the portal I got through before. I wish I could get in touch with Tracker, but I can’t do that in front of Ian, and I have no idea whether I can even find him quickly.

But as I’m staring at the code on the screen, my head starts spinning and suddenly I’m back in my room in Miami, the palm trees swaying outside my window. I close my eyes and the palm trees disappear and the codes flash in front of my eyes, the ones I was so used to. It has been a long time, but it hasn’t. I have changed, but I haven’t.

The codes are the same, the language is the same, and my fluency comes back in a rush.

I begin my work. Ian is behind me, watching over my shoulder, but he can’t know what it is I’m doing, because I’m not even sure. I’m on autopilot, my memory kicking in, and I remember everything.

The screen begins scrolling itself, the codes turning into usernames until I finally find the one I need. I scribble it on a small pad of paper next to me and begin to look for the passwords. This is easier now that I know what I’m doing, but it still takes me a while to find the right one. I jot that down next to the username, and hold the pad up for Ian to see.

He is on the bed, sleeping. I glance at the clock and see that it has been over an hour – an hour and a half – and I have not called Steve. I reach for the phone and dial his cell number.

‘You didn’t call Frank yet, did you?’ I ask without saying hello.

‘What are you up to, Nicole?’

‘Nothing. Not really. You didn’t call him, did you?’

‘You’ve been up there a long time.’

I realize now that Steve is outside, watching the house, waiting to see if Ian is going to leave.

‘You’ll see that the lights are on,’ I say, getting up and going over to the window. I pull back the curtain and yes, there is Steve’s SUV parked by the side of the road. I give him a small wave. ‘We are just talking about things. Don’t worry about me.’

‘Until he leaves, I’m going to worry.’

‘I know. He’s going to leave soon. Really.’

‘I’m staying until he does.’

‘OK.’ I hang up the phone and go to the bed and shake Ian. He frowns at me as though he doesn’t quite know who I am at first, and then recognition enters his eyes.

‘Are you done?’

‘Almost.’ I go back to the laptop and he gets off the bed and scoots the other chair over next to me. By the time he does, I have typed in the password for Paul Michaels’s account.

My finger hovers over the key. ‘If you are Paul Michaels, why are we hacking into your account?’

‘It’s my money. I can put it where I want.’

‘If it’s your money, then why don’t you know your own username and password? Why did you need me?’ The curiosity gets the better of me, and I finally do hit enter.

As I stare at the screen, I am stunned by the two balances I see. ‘Why would anyone keep this amount of money in a checking account?’ I ask, counting the six figures. ‘Especially a debit account, which is easier to compromise than a credit card?’

‘Don’t worry about that.’

That’s exactly what I am worried about.

‘This isn’t really your account, is it? Who is Paul Michaels, Ian? And don’t give me any bullshit about how it’s you.’

‘Just transfer the damn money, Tina.’ He reaches behind him and pulls the gun out from his waistband, pointing it at me.

‘If you shoot me, you’ll never get the money, Steve will hear the shot and call the police, and you’ll never get out here alive. We’ll both be dead.’ I pause. ‘Like Zeke.’