“Yeah, right. You’re going to think somebody put a muzzle on him the second I walk out the door.”
“What is it with you and this guy?” he asked, frustrated and, even more, confused by Sam’s relationship with the man.
Sam glanced at him from the passenger seat, her mouth opening, then closing quickly. He let her be, knowing she had to work up to whatever it was she wanted to say.
It took a full minute; then, finally, she admitted, “He thinks he did me a big favor.”
“By helping you with the book?”
“Not exactly. The reason I stopped reading his letters a few months ago was because one of them really bothered me. He wrote that he’d run into an old friend of mine.”
“A friend. In prison?” He made no effort to hide his skepticism.
“He said he had learned one of the men who helped ruin my grandmother was doing time in the same facility.”
He thought about the ruined my grandmother part, remembering what she had revealed yesterday about her passwords. Obviously there was a lot more to the story. But they were within a few miles of their destination and time was running out for storytelling, so he didn’t ask for more details.
“Jimmy told me he’d ‘put a hurting’ on the guy. I took it to mean prison-yard justice. Anyway, I didn’t really believe him, but I guess he thinks I did. So in his mind, I could be feeling appreciative and maybe I’m coming to ‘thank’ him in person.”
“Fuck,” Alec muttered, tempted to turn around. “The last thing you need is somebody like James Flynt deciding you’re in his debt.”
“No kidding. But you can see why I was pretty sure he’d talk to you if I came along.”
Of course he did. Good old slimeball Jimmy was thinking he could make something happen with this beautiful woman.
Fat chance, pal. You’re not getting one second alone with her.
“You really believe he was lying?” he asked.
“Yes, I do. It’s the kind of manipulative person he is. I don’t know if the con men who ruined my grandmother and caused her death were ever even caught, much less imprisoned. Jimmy said he-”
“Caused her death?”
She swallowed, nodding once. “She was taken in gradually, over several months. First with standard pyramid schemes, fake stock purchases.” Her tone growing bitter, she added, “I tried to get help after they wiped out her checking account. Went to the FBI. Cyber Division, in fact. They did nothing.”
It was a wonder she hadn’t slammed the door in his face the other day when he had identified himself.
“I thought she had learned her lesson the first time, so it didn’t even occur to me that she would get sucked in again. This time it was a charity. Feed starving children in Africa.”
God, there were some sick people in the world to prey on the helpless and elderly. “I’m sorry. Sorrier than I can say.”
“Me, too. When she realized she’d given the thieves enough information to wipe her out completely, down to emptying every penny from her retirement account, she just couldn’t take the strain. They say it was natural causes, but I’m pretty sure the stress contributed to, if not outright caused, her heart attack.”
Something made him reach across and take her hand. Their fingers twined together. “I can’t imagine how tough that must have been.”
Sounding bitter, she said, “I gave her the damn computer to begin with, saying, ‘Come on, Grandma, join the cyber age!’ Oh, yeah, I’d call it tough.”
The whole story of Samantha Dalton suddenly came together. The picture of her life, why she’d made the choices she had, why she lived the way she did-all of it became clear. The pieces of the puzzle had started coming together the other night when she’d told him about her marriage. Now the rest filled in, explaining why she had started her Web site, why she had written her book. Why she took Internet fraud so personally.
Only one question remained in regard to Sam-was she ready to let go of the past, climb out of her self-imposed isolation, and start living again?
“This was how long ago?”
“It started right after I got married. But she died about three years ago.”
Of course, right around the time her site had gone up. Hard to believe how difficult it must have been, going from that nightmare into the pain of a cheating husband and a bitter divorce.
He could only repeat what he’d already said. “So sorry.”
She nodded her thanks, then hurried on, as if afraid to let herself dwell further on the past. “The bastards who robbed her were never caught.”
“How did this Flynt even know about your grandmother?”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I certainly didn’t tell him anything personal about myself when I interviewed him.”
“Smart.”
“He claimed he has connections on the inside, found out who one of them was and ‘took care of him,’ whatever that means.”
“That’s a stretch. If it’s like most other Internet crimes, the men who did it were probably from far away, likely even in another country.”
“Actually, we know at least one of them was local. My grandmother apparently met with him a day or two before she died, and he somehow convinced her to give him access to her accounts. He cashed one out in person at a bank in western Maryland.”
Surprised, Alec couldn’t help thinking how much harder that must have made things for Sam. Not just knowing her grandmother had been ripped off online, but knowing she had actually been face-to-face with someone who wanted only to steal from her.
The possibilities of what could have happened at such a meeting must have kept her up for many nights afterward. And that somehow made it worse.
But it also made it at least possible the two inmates could end up doing time at the same facility. “It’s still a long shot. A very long shot.”
“Don’t I know it.” She shivered lightly. “But Jimmy doesn’t know I think he’s full of shit.”
Which could, indeed, work to their advantage. As long as Flynt kept a respectful tongue in his mouth. He’d better not make one single suggestion to Sam that was out of line.
If he did… well, honestly, Alec wasn’t sure it would matter how much the man could help them. No way would he allow Sam to be any more abused than she’d already been. No way in hell.
13
This was going to be okay. Alec was right beside her. She kept telling herself that.
It’ll be okay.
When Sam had come to interview James Flynt for her book nearly two years ago, she’d been alone. Not inside, of course, and certainly not with the inmates. She’d received thorough safety instructions from the warden, and a guard had escorted her at all times. But she had pulled into the facility by herself, and had sat in her car, wondering why she had ever decided to arrange a meeting with a scumbag cyber thief.
Fortunately,she had come after the original maximum-security facility-more than a century old and renowned for its violence-had been shut down. The buildings still in operation were modern, nondescript, looking as if they could have housed any other government agency.
If not for the razor wire. And the guard towers.
As she’d learned the last time, the medium-security site where Flynt was incarcerated was only one of several lockups in the complex, which sprawled for many acres. It was perfectly safe and not too intimidating. Not as nonthreatening as the women’s building, the minimum-security one, or especially the boot camp, but it still beat having to walk into the maximum-security facility.
“You okay?” Alec asked, as if sensing her trepidation once they parked in a guest lot.
“Yeah. It’s just not my favorite place.”
“You don’t have to do this.”