Techno Crazed (Hacked Investigations) Read online

  Techno Crazed

  Hacked Investigations, Book 1

  Sarah Mäkelä

  He will risk everything to protect her...

  Private Investigator Hannah Franklin's life is turned upside down after being contacted by a former employee of MAX Home Security, the leader in security services. But they're not just protecting people anymore. Hannah's informant claims to have proof that MAX has ordered the assassination of politicians who stood against the corporation.

  When her informant is killed and an attempt is made on her life, Hannah has no choice but to contact a freelance hacker. Her only hope now lies in the hands of a man she never expected to welcome back into her life.

  Ian Bradley has lost his girlfriend and his job, as well as having acquired a very annoying gnome. Now his ex, Hannah, is in danger, and she needs his help. Ian vows to protect Hannah with every resource available to him—and as a technomage in a high-tech world, his resources are endless...

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank you to my beta readers for their encouragement and occasional whip cracking! You guys are awesome.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hannah rested her forehead against the cool, metal desk. She anxiously awaited the moment when she could dive into bed and close her eyes. Cheating spouse cases currently flooded her office. Most of the ones she’d worked were fueled by insecurity and simple misunderstandings that could’ve been resolved through conversation or therapy. Just two more reports to file, then she’d be able to call it.

  Memories of her soft blankets and the comfort of her pillow relaxed her bunched shoulders. Her eyelids drooped, and she exhaled, ready to give into her exhaustion.

  Ringing jarred her from the edge of sleep. She jerked upright and rubbed her eyes. Clearing her throat, she reached for the office telephone. She used an old landline since they were more secure than the wireless communication devices on the market, which ranged from implants in the ear to high-tech cell phones.

  “Franklin Investigations, how may I help you?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

  “Is this Hannah Franklin? I need to speak with Hannah.” The male’s deep voice radiated urgency, with panic underlying his tone.

  “This is she. Who’s calling?” Her spine stiffened, and tension tightly wound its way through her. She grabbed a stylus pen and poised it over her e-ink notepad. The electronic leaflet awoke within seconds filled with comments from her previous assignment. Tapping an icon in the top right corner, she brought up a clean page.

  “Rich Granger. Listen, I can’t talk for long.” He paused. “Shit! Hold on.” Rummaging and his frantic breathing sounded over the phone. “Okay. This is the deal. I used to work for MAX Home Security. Everything was fine until a few months ago. A turnover happened with the corporate execs. You’ve heard the news, right?”

  How could she not? Everyone was talking about the scandals involving the home security giant. Some of it was a bit too sci-fi weird, even for her. Yet, it also made her think of… Grrr… No, she wouldn’t do that to herself.

  “Yes, I have. What’s this about?” She kept her voice professional and scribbled down notes about the new potential client.

  “You know the senators who spoke against them are dead, yeah? Well, that’s not a coincidence. I have proof that MAX killed them. Meet me at the donut shop on the corner of Fifth and Main Street. You need to see this. Shit!” Sneakers smacked pavement and tires screeched over the phone line. “It’s too late,” Rich said. “They’re here. A freelance hacker I know can help you finish this. Malloc. Reach out to him. This needs to stop.”

  The hackers she’d met weren’t the most trustworthy, but if he could help… And wait, she’d be finishing this? Alone? Reluctance rose within her. Her caseload was already full. Besides, after opening her own firm, she needed compensation for her time. Bills streamed in faster than paychecks. However, none of her current assignments held this level of excitement. This case could drive in more business.

  “All right, I will.” She scribbled down the hacker’s name and notes about the donut shop.

  Men yelling and the distant sound of thundering footsteps disrupted her thoughts.

  “Mr. Granger? Rich? Hello?” She glanced at the caller ID to write down Rich’s number and turned to her computer, keying in the digits to a reverse lookup search engine. She needed to know who exactly this guy was.

  A gunshot blast rang through her ear, and she jumped out of her chair, dropping the phone. Blowing out a calming breath, she grabbed the phone and listened again.

  A pained whimper yanked at her heartstrings, and plastic clattered against a hard surface, presumably Rich’s cell phone hitting the sidewalk. Two more shots fired.

  She slammed the handset onto the receiver, a wave of nausea and helplessness crashing into her. Bile rose in her throat, but she shoved it down. Now wasn’t the time. Slumping back into her chair, she stared at the name on her notepad. Malloc. Geez. Hackers could be impossible to track down. This wasn’t the first time she’d looked one up. The last hacker had taken several days to locate. Time wasn’t on her side now.

  Her telephone rang again, causing her heart to leap into her throat. She stared at the caller ID to see Rich’s number come up. From what she’d heard, she didn’t think he was alive. That might be the person who killed him. She picked up the phone but stayed quiet. Silence came from the other end. Probably waiting for her to say something.

  She wouldn’t give in to their tricks. She’d been taught by the best on how to handle herself. If only her former boss hadn’t wanted her to “earn” her promotion through sexual favors. Shaking her head, she forced those thoughts away and hung up the phone.

  The computer displayed the reverse lookup results. The number belonged to a Rich Granger. Maybe there was something to this. No doubt existed in her mind that Rich probably told the truth. If he hadn’t been on to something, he wouldn’t be dead right now.

  Should she call the police? If MAX Home Security had been involved in Rich’s death, she had nothing to prove his claims. Besides, she wasn’t absolutely certain he was dead. It could be an elaborate hoax, but she doubted that.

  What could she do? Aside from checking out the donut shop, the only other option was to locate Malloc.

  She opened her email and typed a message to an old client whose name she’d helped clear. Having a contact in the hacker community who owed her a favor had been useful on a few occasions.

  The television in the corner of her office, which she kept on the 24/7 news station, caught her attention. A pretty reporter stood in front of the entrance to a towering skyscraper. “Today, MAX Home Security undergoes investigation after being linked to the deaths of two senators within the past month after they spoke out against the company. An anonymous tip alerted this station about the proceedings yesterday.”

  An email notification beep drew her gaze back to her computer. The response contained a link to the webpage of a nameless IT Security expert. The contact information listed a phone number and an email address through an unknown ISP she’d never seen before.

  Oh boy… Could this be the person? Only one way to find out.

  She dialed the number. It rang and rang and rang until it switched over to an automated voicemail system. She hung up and shoved her fingers through her hair. Right now she didn’t have much, other than a potentially dead guy who had told her to find a hacker named Malloc. Yeah, she didn’t need the security expert thinking she was crazy.

  Maybe she needed to visit the donut shop before heading home and getting some shut-eye. Things would be clearer then, even if what she gained was insight into the violent phone call with Rich.

  Geez. She hadn’t b
een hired to take this. Why was she spending time on it?

  The sound of gunshots reverberated through her memory, and she pressed her hands against her temples. Someone could be dead. That’s why.

  Grabbing the remote, she clicked off the TV before leaving the office and locking her door. The dark, tight corridor put her on edge. Everyone else in the suite must’ve closed down early.

  Hannah left the building and stepped onto the sidewalk. Her car was parked on the other side of the lonely street. People normally milled in from the downtown area toward their nearby apartments. Neon signs flashed overhead. Street vendors usually lined the sidewalk. Now the barren stretch seemed alien to her. Even the corner where shady druggies traded nerve stimulants was void of life.

  An uneasy feeling crept over her. Something seemed off.

  Inhale. Exhale. Rinse. Repeat.

  She put one foot in front of the other until she was in the middle of the road. The fiery explosion of her car threw her backward, and darkness overshadowed her vision. The sensation of flames licking her skin surged her back to consciousness. She rolled on the ground, putting out the small fires before she scrambled to her feet and darted to her office. Not like she’d be completely safe there, but at least it would put a door between her and anyone who might be after her.

  She needed help. Did Rich know the mysterious Malloc well enough for him to assist her? If he didn’t, she was screwed.

  Hannah shut the office door behind her and locked it, then circled her desk. Snatching the phone, she punched redial and waited. It switched over to voicemail again.

  “Listen, I don’t know who this is, but I need help. This guy named Rich—” A click sounded over the line. Had she been hung up on?

  “Don’t say anything. Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon.” The husky voice was suspiciously familiar. No, it had been a long time since she’d heard her ex’s voice. The dial tone followed another click.

  “How does he know where I am?” She slumped into her chair and leaned against the headrest. Her hard and slightly boring day had become life or death. Not something she’d imagined facing when she’d become a P.I.

  * * *

  Ian set down the phone, unable to believe he’d heard Hannah’s voice again. He’d wanted that for a long time, but this wasn’t the circumstance he’d hoped for. Not by a long shot.

  He’d told Rich to get away from MAX before he got hurt, yet the guy hadn’t listened. What had he dragged them into?

  Dishes rattled in the kitchen, and he squeezed his hands into fists. Ducking around the corner, he stared at the cheerful-looking gnome perched on the kitchen counter.

  The gnome dug through a box of oatmeal raisin cookies Ian had bought on a recent shopping trip, for himself. Ian tapped his foot on the linoleum floor, and Bernard’s head swiveled in his direction.

  “What? These cookies were just lying here. They’re mine NOW!” Bernard’s voice rose with each word until he was yelling. Had to be some kind of personality disorder. The grin on his face would have been perfect on a child during Christmas, if it wasn’t for the maniacal gleam in his bloodshot eyes.

  “Fine. Keep them. I don’t want gnome drool on my food.” That was why he bought meat and other things he knew the gnome wouldn’t touch. Gnomes were herbivores, but Bernard had a big sweet tooth for a veggie-eater. Cookies, candy, chocolate? Forget about keeping them safe around him.

  Bernard narrowed his eyes and went back to eating the cookies, making obnoxious chewing sounds.

  “I have to go out. Keep an eye on the place. We might be in danger.” Ian watched the small guy cram cookies into his mouth.

  “And? If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been around for a hundred YEARS! People DIE before I do.” Bernard tottered over to a bowl of vegetables. A fat gnome seemed to be a happy gnome.

  But Bernard’s voice never failed to create a headache right behind his eyes, which now was worse than what he’d already felt before walking in here.

  “Consider yourself warned.” Ian grabbed his jacket from the back of a kitchen chair and tossed it on before staring at the gnome again. “And get off the counter. I cook there, and I don’t know where you’ve been.”

  Bernard chucked a turnip at him. His normally cheery face soured. “Get lost, big guy!”

  Ian tossed the turnip back.

  Bernard let out a high-pitched squeal before the turnip crashed into him, and he tumbled off the counter.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Hannah squirmed in the high back office chair and groaned. Weakness made her movements feel much more draining than they should’ve been. Wetness dampened her side, and she placed a hand against it to see blood. Great. Must have been debris from the car exploding.

  A knock thumped on the door of her office. She stood and pulled her hand away from her side to show more strength than she possessed right now. Her breath came out in shallow pants.

  A single large figure was framed by the frosted glass. She unlocked the door and cracked it open an inch. Her jaw went slack when she saw Ian Bradley in the doorway. Her ex-almost-boyfriend. Then again, the voice she’d heard on the phone had been familiar, and Ian had worked as an IT Security expert for… MAX Home Security. But he’d let his job interfere with their relationship.

  “Ian…” she said, not able to find words.

  “Hi, Hannah.” His gaze swept down her body. He pushed into her office and shut the door behind him. He bumped into her slightly, causing her to stumble into him. Grabbing her with his warm hands, he steadied her. “Are you okay? We need to go back to my place. Looks like you’re in shock.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but after the car bomb, she didn’t feel like arguing.

  “Do you have a first aid kit?” he asked, cradling her chin in his hand.

  “Yes. Bottom right drawer.” She leaned against the desk and wrapped her arms around her stomach. Behind her, Ian rummaged through the drawer before walking back around.

  Opening the kit, he frowned and raised an eyebrow at her. “This is the first aid kit? All it has are a few Band-Aids. Better than nothing, I guess.”

  Her knees weakened, and the wetness on her blouse seemed to increase. She placed her hand on her side and grimaced at the pain.

  “What happened?” he asked, pulling her hand from the wound and lifting her shirt.

  “An ex-employee of MAX Home Security named Rich called my office and told me about the government officials. He was in trouble and told me to contact a hacker named Malloc. I think they killed him. He wanted to meet me at a donut shop on Fifth and Main Street, but there were gunshots. My car blew up right before I would’ve gotten in.” She sighed and shook her head.

  “Damn.” He pulled a sterile wipe from its package and cleansed the wound before pressing a large bandage against her side. His gaze rose to meet hers. “I’ll help you. C’mon, I know someone who can fix you up.”

  She slipped on her jacket to cover the growing bloodstains and grabbed her purse before following Ian out and locking the office door behind her.

  He slid his arm around her shoulders and walked her outside. Sirens in the distance proved that firefighters were on their way. People had started to gather around at the sight of her car still in flames, but there wasn’t any other vehicle around.

  She grimaced.

  “It’s not too bad of a walk. If you start feeling bad, let me know.”

  “Okay.” Hannah sighed and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Ian was the only person she could trust right now. Yet after what they’d been through before and the pain she’d suffered at losing him to his work, she wondered if she’d lose him in the permanent sense this time.

  * * *

  Ian shoved open the door to hear his garbage disposal running, and it looked like every light in the apartment was on. Was this payback for knocking the gnome off the counter with his precious turnip? Crap, not what he needed. He didn’t have time to play nice with his house companion. At least the stereos weren’t blar
ing like when he’d forgotten to get Bernard sweets last month.

  Hannah’s knees gave way. He reached for her, but she fell, landing on her back in the hallway. She looked up at him, her unfocused gaze reminding him of the accident.

  “Bernard, get your shit together and help me out.” His blood pressure rose with his frustration.

  “Who…?” Hannah asked, but her voice faded.

  “After what you did to my turnip, you expect me to help you out, asshole?” Bernard’s voice rose again in typical fashion, even though he trudged toward the door. Yes, of course, he needed the neighbors to think he was weird.

  Ian lifted Hannah into his arms and stared down to see Bernard watching him with his cheerful little face and pointed red hat. He brushed past the gnome and walked into the living room, resting Hannah on the white leather couch.

  Within seconds, Bernard had perched on the coffee table and stared down at Hannah’s half-closed eyes. “This the one you’ve been talking about forever?” His voice held curiosity, and he reached out a small hand to caress her hair.

  “Fix her,” Ian said, sitting in the armchair nearby. He didn’t want to leave the little guy alone with her while she was vulnerable. Ian knew exactly what the gnome was capable of. It was Bernard’s curse. Something Ian’s abilities could bypass.

  Bernard ran his fingertips around the bandage-covered wound. “Hey pretty girl, take off those clothes, or you won’t get fixed.” He ducked before Ian could swat him.

  “Who is that, Ian?” Hannah tried to sit, but she winced and leaned back.

  “Sure, move around. You’ll die faster,” Bernard said and looked at Ian. “Those clothes have to come off, and I need my kit from the back. She’s nice, but if we wait, we’ll get another corpse!”

  Ian nodded, not bothering to keep Bernard quiet. He retrieved the small leather bag from the kitchen but kept his eyes on Bernard. He handed the bag to the impatient gnome. Hannah had passed out again.