Honey Kisses (Romance on the Ranch Series #2) Read online

  Nine Years Earlier

  Ann sighed and lifted the papers Jerry had scattered across the coffee table. He was forever leaving a mess to be cleaned up. His new job as a computer programmer for a software gaming developer appeared to be going well. After changing jobs several times, he seemed to have found his nitch. It certainly took up most of his time. She took the paperwork to her husband's desk in their spare bedroom. A sudden curiosity made her sit at the desk and peruse the papers. An hour later she was still studying the strange language with fascination. She could actually follow some of the programming logic.

  When Jerry came home late that night, she was excited to talk to him about his work. Maybe they could find a common interest. She said, "I was curious about the language that creates computer programs, so I looked at the paperwork you left on the coffee table. I hope you don't mind. You know, I think I actually have a handle on it."

  Jerry looked at her with incredulous eyes, and laughed. "Ann, there's no way you have a handle on it. You have a handle on cooking and cleaning. You do not have a handle on writing software programs."

  Although his words hurt, she did not refute them. The next day, she studied the programming again, and definitely felt she had a semblance of understanding. A few days later, she went online and found the University website, and after an internal debate, finally signed up for an afternoon class in Computers 101.

  Within five years, she had completed the most difficult programming classes with straight A's. Of course, Jerry always scoffed at her accomplishments, and so after a year she'd never mentioned her classes again.

  It was during her fifth year, after acing the most difficult class yet, that one of her classmates, a skinny, nerdy guy with long stringy hair, had asked if she'd be interested in checking out a group that took programming to a level not taught in class. Since she had completed all available classes, she'd accepted his invitation out of curiosity and attended the meeting held in the dorm room of a fulltime student. She knew some of the other students, but most were strangers. When they showed her the code they were writing and the things they could do, she'd become enthralled and come to more meetings. Finally, they'd asked her to join the club so they could show her the real stuff. Joining meant taking a vow of secrecy, and she'd accepted because she was hooked and couldn't imagine anything greater than what she'd seen so far. After taking the vow, they'd initiated her into the art of cracking code and hacking computers. They'd also shared the name of their club, HFH, or Hackers from Hell. The name was more of a prestige thing than anything else. She'd never done anything illegal that she knew of. She'd mostly watched and learned and offered occasional advice. The group had an unwritten policy to never harm any website or computer that they hacked. Mostly, they were braniacs always trying to surpass their own accomplishments and that of their fellow members. They were like marathon runners always striving to beat their previous records. Ann lived a lonely existence and the nerds became her friends. They even gave her the nickname of "Hack," after laughing about her last name being Hackstetter.

  A couple of years after joining, she knew enough to hack any computer and decipher convoluted software programs. The challenges made up for her boring life. When a new student joined the group and was later voted in as leader, things changed dramatically. It didn't take long for her to realize their new chief and his followers were trying to infiltrate a government site. Ann was appalled and timidly voiced her opposition. Several other members sided with her. The rogue members didn't listen and when they hit panic mode because they were about to get caught by a tracking program triggered by their hack, she had systematically stopped the track to the amazement of the entire group. After that, she'd left the club and told them they were on their own.

  Chapter 18: The Big Apple

  Jackson sat beside Annie during the commercial flight to New York. Alligator and Agent Mahoney sat in the aisle across from them. When Annie had voiced her opposition to him coming, he'd refused to discuss it with her. There was no way he was staying behind. He'd also contacted his attorney and advised her of the happenings concerning Annie. The expensive lawyer had laughed and said, "Jackson, I think your wife has made my top ten list of intriguing people. Keep me posted."

  He glanced at Annie's hands folded in her lap. He wanted to cover them with his own, but he knew she would reject his advance. She only spoke to him when necessary. Well, hell, she wasn't the only one angry. She should have trusted him enough to come clean.

  Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he thought about Alligator's update on the loan shark that Jerry Hackstetter had stupidly borrowed money from. Seems the "shark" had messed with one too many bottom feeders and gotten himself murdered. After his death, another mafia boss had easily stepped into his shoes. This creep, however, made the dead boss look like an angel.

  The FBI's inside source had gotten access to a list of suckers who'd borrowed money, and Annie's dead husband's name had been on that list. When Alligator's superior had contacted him with a new assignment, he'd seen the Hackstetter name and gotten full access to Annie's file. It didn't take him long to put two and two together.

  Jackson still couldn't believe that his timid little wife had made a name for herself with her shutdown of a hack on a government site years earlier. The break-in had been a setup by agents who had infiltrated Hacker's from Hell to see just how sharp the members were. When Annie had stopped the tracking and then left the group, her file had been moved to confidential status until such time as she might be needed to call on for help. That time was now.

  Jackson felt Annie's head loll against his shoulder and he gazed at her sleeping face. Moving closer so she would be comfortable, he gently stroked his index finger along her jaw. He wanted to kiss her but he knew she wouldn't take kindly to that action.

  When the speakers crackled and the pilot announced their approach to JFK International Airport, Annie jerked her head up. Their eyes met and she quickly looked away.

  They followed Alligator and Agent Mahoney to a typical governmental vehicle waiting for them outside the terminal. Alligator explained, "We're taking you to one of our safe houses."

  After a harrowing ride through New York City traffic, the officer dropped them off on the curb of a busy street. They walked a couple of blocks before entering a bookstore. At the back of the store, Agent Mahoney slid a keycard to open a door and they followed him down a narrow hall to an elevator. A quick, smooth ride, took them to another nondescript and boring hallway. The officer led them to the last door and slid the keycard again after communicating with someone via cell phone. Inside they were met by a third officer; a female. She said, "Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Martinez. My name is Officer Cheryl Acuff. Your room is this way." They followed her to a door that opened into a windowless bedroom while Alligator and Agent Mahoney continued down the hallway.

  Annie took one look at the queen size bed and said, "Mr. Martinez will require his own room."

  Jackson set Annie's backpack on the bed, sighed, and nodded his agreement to Officer Acuff.

  "Ah, you can follow me, Mr. Martinez." With a sad glance at Annie, he left the room."

  * * *

  Ann sat on the side of the bed and placed her head in her hands. Part of her wanted to sob, the other part wanted to harangue Jackson for insisting on coming with her. His presence only made things more difficult. She needed to concentrate on her objective, not continually have her stomach tied up in knots.

  After unpacking her clothing into a sturdy chest-of-drawers, she brushed her hair, applied some lipstick, and opened her door. The female officer sat outside of it. She jumped up and said, "Mrs. Martinez, follow me and I'll show you around."

  Ann nodded and followed her down the hall to another room crammed with equipment. Jackson was already there with Alligator and Agent Mahoney. They stood behind an agent monitoring a flat screen. Curiosity led Ann to stand beside them. The screen captured the inside of a bar from a camera probably about the height of a tall man. A few
patrons sat on barstools and others at small tables around a center stage. The room had "sleaze" written all over it. Even as she watched, a pretty young woman slinked onto the stage and did a bump-and-grind routine. Either the sound had been turned down or it wasn't available, so the music was left to their imaginations. Ann glanced at the face of the officer monitoring the screen. He looked utterly bored. She glanced at Jackson who was looking at her. She realized her mouth was gaping and quickly shut it.

  A glance around the equipment room revealed other monitors with different views. There was one looking down a dingy hallway with a payphone and signs pointing toward the restrooms. Another one appeared to be a dressing room with lots of mirrors and makeup supplies and a rack of glittery clothing. Another showed a back alley, and the last one the bar entrance. The sign read, "Sneak-a-Peek Club."

  After Alligator introduced the two officers monitoring the screens, he said to Annie, "Whenever you're ready, we can grab something to drink and go to the living room. I'll apprise you of what's happening and what we want to happen."

  "I'm ready," said Ann.

  Officer Acuff glanced at Ann and Jackson and asked, "What would you like to drink? We have coffee, tea, coke, Pepsi, Seven Up, orange juice."

  Ann said, "Orange juice, please."

  Jackson said, "Coffee, black."

  The female officer glanced at Alligator and grinned. "I know…I know…Pepsi."

  Ann and Jackson followed Alligator to the living room and he motioned for them to sit on one of the two serviceable brown tweed divans opposite each other and separated by a coffee table. Officer Acuff returned from the kitchen carrying a tray and handed everyone their drinks before continuing across the room to stand beside the front door. Ann sat on the divan opposite Jackson and Alligator.

  After popping the top of his Pepsi, Al took a long swig and sighed, "There's nothing like an ice cold Pepsi."

  Jackson looked impatient and held his coffee with both hands, tapping his boot toe on the carpet.

  Ann felt just as impatient but forced herself to look unperturbed. She unscrewed the cap of her orange juice and slowly sipped.

  Alligator set his Pepsi on the coffee table. He puffed air through his cheeks, stretched his neck to one side, and said, "As you've seen, we have surveillance cameras in the target establishment. We also have a female undercover agent working as an employee there. She's been 'employed'," he made quote marks with his fingers, "about four months. She's posing as an exotic dancer."

  Ann gasped.

  Alligator shrugged, "We do what we have to. Keeping the public safe sometimes involves unpleasant assignments." He reached for his Pepsi and took another long draw. "Anyway, our spy is a seasoned agent and she knows what she's up against. She's the one who planted the surveillance bugs. She's also scoped out the computer system. Although she's well versed in computers; she's not a hack. When she started this assignment, the former loan shark—the one who threatened Annie—was still alive. Seems he wasn't too bright when it comes to computer networks and cheaped his way out. There are computer stations behind the bar, in an alcove that the waitresses use, and in the dressing room. Our plant discovered that the mainframe can possibly be accessed through any of those terminals. The mainframe is locked in an office upstairs." Al stretched his neck again. "Unfortunately, the new boss is one smart cookie and he's scheduled an overhaul of the system. No doubt, he'll terminate access to the mainframe from the terminals. After he does, breaking into the system will become almost impossible, which means, ultimately, increased danger to the public."

  Jackson interrupted, "So, how does Annie figure into all this?" He looked at her and captured her gaze for a few seconds until she slid her eyes to the carpet.

  Al said, "We need to hack into the mainframe and retrieve the information there. Since the system has internet access, we'll send that info to online storage. After that, we want to chew up the mainframe with a virus. Doing so will cripple the organization. We have printouts of code our agent was able to steal. However, our experts have been unsuccessful in finding the backdoor that will allow us to go directly from the terminals to the mainframe. We need Annie to see if she can break that barrier. If so, we have an agent posing as a new dancer who's going to use the dressing room terminal to accomplish what I've just described."

  Jackson persisted, "Is there any danger to Annie?"

  "There's always danger. But it's practically nonexistent for her since she's not on the frontline."

  The room fell silent and Ann sipped her orange juice. "I'm ready to look at what you've got."

  Alligator grinned. "Great, we've set up a desk and computer for you in the surveillance room and our technical team is ready to assist in whatever you need."

  She nodded and stood.

  Al glanced at Acuff and she pushed away from the door. "Follow me and I'll get you going."

  For the next two days, Ann poured over computer code trying to decipher the intricacies of the mafia's system. By the third day, she was tired but sufficiently knowledgeable to try a staged hack. The technical team assisted her in setting up a bogus mainframe and after several attempts, she was finally able to break in and retrieve fictitious bank accounts and other data they'd entered.

  "That's awesome," said Alligator when he was shown the results. "And you did it in five minutes!"

  Ann slid her gaze to Jackson who was standing in the doorway. His face looked stony and he didn't acknowledge her accomplishment with a gesture or word. He turned and walked away.

  Alligator said, "Annie, we're bringing in our special agent tomorrow. She's the plant that's doing the actual hack. You have two days to train her. She's infiltrating as a dancer named Honey Bee, and, as you've probably overheard, our inside agent goes by the name of Kitty Puff. Anyway, under the ruse of Kitty Puff training her on how to notate big spenders using the dressing room terminal, she'll really be accomplishing the mainframe break in and planting the virus. We only have one shot at this because Kitty Puff just informed us that the system is scheduled for reprogramming the day after our sting. Of course, hopefully, by that time, there will be nothing left to reprogram."

  Ann nodded her understanding.

  That evening, while she mentally diagramed her strategy for training the agent who would do the actual work, there was a knock on her bedroom door. She called, "Come in."

  Jackson opened the door and her heart whacked her chest. No matter how much she resisted his draw, it was always there. He motioned to a plastic chair. "Can I sit down?"

  She nodded.

  The chair squeaked when he placed his long frame into it. His blond hair looked mussed. He glanced around the room before settling his eyes on her. Ann couldn't help but notice how smoky they looked tonight. He looked—delicious. She groaned inwardly at a sudden desire to forget everything that had passed between them and open her arms for him to join her in bed. She looked at the ceiling.

  "When we get home, we need to have a serious talk. I've made some mistakes and–"

  "We have nothing to talk about. I'm moving back–"

  "No, Annie, we're going to talk, whether you want to or not."

  "Whatever you say is not going to change my mind. I've decided to live my life for me from now on. Maybe that sounds selfish, but I have to find myself again."

  "I understand, but there are things that I need to say where you're concerned. If we didn't have agents in every room, and if I was sure this room wasn't bugged, I'd say them now. But…" He shrugged and stood to leave. "I can't wait for this crap to be over."

  Chapter 19: Change in Plans

  Al said, "Annie, I'd like to introduce Agent Megan Hatcher. You'll be training her on the retrieval of mainframe information and planting the virus."

  Ann smiled at the beautiful, platinum blond that stuck out her hand in greeting. Ann grasped her hand and Agent Hatcher heartily shook it. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Martinez. I'm looking forward to bustin' the balls of the Mafioso."

  Ann's eyes wid
ened at Agent Hatcher's outspokenness. "Umm, well, I'm ready to show you what I know whenever you are."

  "Let me grab a cup of caffeine and I'll be right back. If I weren't on duty I'd make it a shot of whiskey." She winked at Ann and ruffled the hair of an officer watching a surveillance screen.

  The agent said, "Cut it out, Hatcher."

  Agent Hatcher started toward the door. "Anyone want something to drink?"

  One of the two officers lifted a can of coke, "I'll take another." The officer with the mussed hair declined and Ann shook her head no.

  When Hatcher returned, she tossed a coke toward the officer who'd wanted it, and then settled beside Ann with a cup of coffee the size of a soup bowl.

  For the next hour, Ann explained her logic and walked Meg, as she insisted on being called, through the sequence of keystrokes necessary to break into the mainframe, rob it of information to be sent to online storage, and then destroy it with a self detonating virus.

  Within a short time, Meg had mastered the keystrokes and was on her second cup of coffee. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Oh, that was brilliant."

  Curiosity led Ann to ask, "Do you infiltrate groups often?"

  "All the time."

  "Aren't you scared?"

  "Shitless."

  "So…why do you do it? Please excuse me if I'm being too personal. I just find it fascinating that you've chosen this line of work. You don't have to answer my question."

  "I don't mind answering. Actually, I'm not sure why I do it. I know I'm an adrenaline junkie. I also hate injustice. When you put those two forces together, you get…me."

  "So, you're actually going to go into the club and pose as an exotic dancer. Will you have to dance?"

  Meg laughed heartily. "You betcha. In fact, I'm a damn good exotic dancer. Ain't that right, Charlie?" she said to the agent whose hair she'd ruffled that morning.