Hacker For Hire (Ted Higuera Series Book 2) (28 page)

“It’s not like
that.” Ted knew that they did the right thing. “We were doing it for a good cause.
A woman was killed. We had to find out who did it. Someone at MS was leaking
privileged information. We had to stop them.”

“Hijo do Dios.
Let me get this straight.” Papa always played dumb. He had been asking Ted
morality questions as long as Ted could remember. “You are not the police. You
are not the
federales
. But you had to commit illegal acts because you’re
smarter than the police. They can’t do their jobs so you had to?”

“Papa, it’s not
like that.” What was he, six years old again? This was like the time he had
been caught stealing candy from
Señor Morales
store. “We had a client.
She hired us to find out.”

“This client, she
couldn’t rely on the police?” Even over a distance of fifteen-hundred miles,
Papa’s words stung. “They weren’t smart enough to catch the
bandidos
?”

“She couldn’t tell
the police.” Ted said. “Donna, Mrs. Harrison, was working for her. She
performed some illegal acts. If our client had gone to the police; that would
have come out.”

“So, you were
hired to cover up someone else’s breaking the law?” This was it. This was where
Papa lowered the boom. “No matter how you tell it,
Mijo
, you were
involved in a crime. It doesn’t matter whether the police caught you or not. It
doesn’t matter how good your reasons were. You still committed a crime. This is
between you and God. I thought we taught you better than that.”

The words hurt.
Ted felt the temperature rise in his face and ears. “Papa, I don’t want to
disappoint you, but this is the real world. Things are never black and white.”

“So, there is no
difference between right and wrong anymore? Now you can justify anything if you
have the right motivation? The ends justify the means?”

“You don’t
understand. Cat, Catrina does a lot of good in the world. She needs to take
cases like this to pay the bills. She can help a lot of other people because of
this.” Ted had never won an argument with Papa.

“This new
Anglo
world you live it, it isn’t right. God knows the difference between right and
wrong. He doesn’t justify immoral acts for moral reasons. You come home, Mijo.
Come back to L.A. You come to work with me in the restaurant. I need your help.
This is too much for me. Your sister is going to school. She can’t handle
managing the restaurant and taking classes at the same time. We need you here.”

****

Ted sat in an
overstuffed chair in front of the huge gas fireplace in the lobby of the
Millennium Towers building. Outside the cold November rain pelted down
incessantly. There would be floods this weekend. The Weather Service was
already putting lowlying areas on alert.

The weather fit
Ted’s mood. This was as bad as the Inside Passage affair. Four people were
dead. Ted didn’t really know any of them. Granted, three of them deserved it,
but no one had the right to take another person’s life. And all of it over some
electronic toy, a toy that may never come to market. What kind of world was
this?

He brooded on
Catrina and his job. He had taken the job, taken a huge pay cut, because he
wanted to help people. He really believed that Catrina did help people. She
protected people that couldn’t protect themselves. But at what cost? She seemed
to have a sliding scale of morality. In order to right one wrong, she was
willing to commit two more.

Ted couldn’t live
like that. Papa had drilled a code of honor into him. If he couldn’t rely on
his
familia’s
values, then he was adrift in an angry world.

Maybe Papa was
right. Maybe this Anglo world was tainted. Maybe he needed to return to his
roots.

A tall, thin
balding man walked past Ted and into the nearby Starbucks. Jackson Schmidt. The
man Ted was waiting to see.

Ted picked up his
backpack and followed Schmidt into the coffee shop.

Schmidt got his
coffee and sat at a table by the window that looked out into the lobby. He
pulled a copy of
The Wall Street Journal
from his book bag and unfolded
it.

Ted bought a mocha
latte and walked over to Schmidt’s table.

“Mister Schmidt.”
Ted sat down, uninvited, at Schmidt’s table. “We haven’t met. I’m Ted Higuera.
I work for Flaherty and Associates, Investigations.”

Schmidt looked at
Ted for a minute. “Mister Higuera, I really don’t know how I can help you. This
is my private time. If you want to talk to me, please call my assistant to make
an appointment.”

Ted pulled his
backpack unto his lap and unzipped it. “I’m not askin’, Jack, I’m tellin’.” He
slipped into his
barrio
accent. “You been a very bad boy, dude. This is
Reconciliation Day.”

Schmidt quickly
folded his paper and started to get up.

”Leave me alone or
I’ll call Security.”

“No need. They
already know I’m here. You wanna make a big scene and call the cops too? Maybe
the Security and Exchange Commission? Sit down, Jack. I’m about to explain how
this is gonna play out.”

Schmidt stared at
Ted open mouthed.

“I said,
sit
down.”

Schmidt meekly
sat.

Ted reached into
his backpack and pulled out a file folder. “I’ve got some charts and shit I
want to show you.” Ted slid a spread sheet to Schmidt. “Recognize that?”

Schmidt picked up
the piece of paper. His eyes widened.

“I have nothing to
do with this. It looks like some kind of posting errors.”

“So you’ve never
heard of Sarbanes-Oxley? You sign the annual report; you’re responsible for
this shit. And that’s not all, dude. Check this out.” Ted slid another piece of
paper across the table.

Schmidt didn’t
pick it up, just stared at it.

“That’s right.
Those are the payments made to Webber Inc. Remember them?”

“They’re a
consulting firm. I believe that they were hired to work on the Delphi project.”

“Bingo, Jack. Now
who would have hired them?”

“I don’t know.
That was handled by one of my accountants. I’m not sure which one.”

“How does Gina
Lombardi sound? That name ring a bell?”

“Yeah, right.
Gina. I’m sure she’s the one. She set up the contracts.”

“Let’s talk about
Webber Inc. for a minute.” Ted studied Schmidt’s face. It was pale, wide eyed.
“The principle there was a one Mr. Jacob Webber. Remember him?”

“No. I mean, I
recognize the name, but I don’t remember ever meeting him.”

“Are the pieces
beginning to come together? We’ve interviewed the clerk at the shop where
Webber Inc. had its PO Box. We’ve interviewed the teller at the bank who set up
their accounts. Both said that Mr. Webber had all the correct ID.”

“So what does all
of this have to do with me? It’s probably Ms. Lombardi. She probably set up the
fake company.”

“How do you know
it’s a fake company?” Ted leaned closer to Schmidt. “I didn’t say that. I just
said that Webber had all the correct ID.”

“I already told
you, I never met Mr. Webber.”

“That’s good.
Because Mr. Webber died in August of 1961.”

Schmidt looked
like he had just been punched in the gut. “I don’t understand. Then how did he.
. . “

Ted leaned back in
his chair. He was going to take his time. He was really enjoying this. “Both
the clerk and the teller identified Mr. Webber for us. Tall, thin, balding.
They even picked him out of a photo array.”

“What do you want
from me?” Schmidt whispered.

“We’re talking
about something over six million dollars here, Jack. Felony embezzlement. That
should be good for at least twenty years. Dude, it really sucks being you.”

“How much? What am
I going to have to pay you?”

Ted waved his arm.
“Alison, I think Jack here wants to talk to you.”

Alison and Catrina
appeared from out of nowhere and took chairs at the table. Schmidt stared
arrows of hatred at them.

“You follow my
orders,” Alison began. “And you won’t go to jail.”

Schmidt let out a
deep breath.

“I have to think
of the company,” she continued. “We’ve already taken two huge blows. Terry’s
death and the Delphi project have not been viewed as positive on Wall Street.
If word gets out about your little caper, our stock will tank.”

“Alison, I was
only thinking of the company.” Schmidt’s breath rate increased. He looked at
the wall behind Alison. “I was building an emergency cash reserve. I needed to
hide it. I didn’t trust Terry. I thought he might try to force you out. I
needed the money to help you hold onto you position.”

“Don’t even go
there,” Alison spat. “We all know what you were doing. Your own personal golden
parachute. You were betting against Delphi, against me.” Her voice was barely
above a whisper.

In that instant,
Ted realized Schmidt’s true crime. He had been disloyal to Alison. For that he
was about to pay.

“Here’s what you're
going to do.” Alison ticked off her points on her fingers. “First, you’re going
to pay back all of the money, every penny of it. I already have a forensic
accountant going over the books. We’re going to find every last dime you
misappropriated.”

Schmidt seemed to
deflate in front of Ted’s eyes.

“Next,” Alison
continued. “I want your resignation on my desk by the end of the day. No
appointments today, no outside phone calls. Turn in your cell phone. Now.” She
held out her hand. “You’re out of the office for the rest of the day.”

Schmidt reached in
his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He looked at it a minute, then dropped
it in her hand.

“You will never
apply for another CFO position. As long as you live.” Alison dropped the cell
phone in her purse. “I’m going to keep a sharp eye on you. You’re going to
report in once a month to Ms. Flaherty here. We’re going to know what you’re
doing, where you’re living. If you ever get near a financial system again, this
information goes to the police. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.”

“One more thing.”
Ted spoke up. “I want a written confession. You’re going to put into writing
that Gina Lombardi had nothing to do with this. You forced her to make those
ledger entries. She didn’t know anything about what you were up to.”

“
Adelita
se llama la joven
.”
Ted tore open the plastic bag filled with
hojas,
the dried corn husks used to wrap tamales
,
and dropped them into a
sink full of hot water. “
A quien yo quiero y no puedo olvidar.”
Determined to put all the sadness of the past weeks behind him, this would be a
Thanksgiving feast to remember.

Next he placed a
large pork butt in a big stock pot, filled it with water and spices and set it
on the stove to boil. He looked at this watch. The meat should be cooked by
noon.

He and Chris
started the tradition their sophomore year of college. They gathered in all the
“orphans” they could find, everyone who didn’t have any place else to spend
Thanksgiving, and cooked a tamale dinner. This was the traditional holiday fare
Ted had grown up with.

Cat was coming
over for dinner. After all, he promised to invite her over for tamales when he
was hired. He had made up his mind to make up his mind. He committed to himself
that he would talk to Cat today.

But what would he
tell her? He changed his mind every five minutes. When he got out of bed this
morning, he decided that he had to quit. Papa was right. Even though Cat was
doing good work, he couldn’t work for her anymore. If a man didn’t have his
sense of honor, of integrity, then what did he have?

By the time the
tamales were started, he had talked himself out of it. Papa was too old school.
There were people that needed Ted. Work that only he could do. If he didn’t
protect these people, then who would? Besides, he had worked hard, sweated
bullets for four years to get out of the barrio. Did it make sense for him to
head back now?

He rinsed off a
bag full of pinto beans in the colander, then put them in a second stock pot.
He wasn’t a kid any more. He was just fooling himself. Playing super hero. He
dug a ham bone out of the freezer and dropped it into the pot of beans. He
added a peeled, chopped onion, a few cloves of garlic and a couple of diced
jalapeños to the pot.

Chris’ kitchen
looked as homey as ever. Sarah had made her presence felt in the living room
and bathrooms, but the kitchen was just as Ted had left it. Chris and Sarah
would be there for dinner. Their dad was spending his Thanksgiving in Idaho with Candace’s family.

He poured himself
a cup of coffee and thought about Gina. He wiped a tear from his eyes. She was
spending Thanksgiving with her ex’s family. She thought that her kids needed to
spend the time with their grandparents.

He felt a lump in
his chest. She was going back to her ex-husband. She was doing it for her kids,
so that they could grow up in an intact family.

How could she do
it? He understood it was better for the kids, but she didn’t love the jerk. She
loved Ted. How could she put her own feelings aside for the benefit of her
children? She had told him that someday he would understand.
Bullshit!

“Morning, amigo.”
Chris came in from the garage with his arms full of groceries. “I’ll get the
sangria started right away.”

That was a job Ted
could entrust to a
gringo
with no cooking skills. When the meat was
cooked he would teach Sarah how to make tamales.

Chris poured a
gallon jug of hearty burgundy into an old wooden cask they kept for sangria.
“You hear from your Dad again?” Chris added triple sec and sugar and began slicing
fruit.

“Yeah. Talked to
him last night.” Ted pulled the secondhand Kitchen Aid mixed from under the
counter and began measuring out
masa harina
for the tamales. “He still
wants me to come home. He’s insistent that I have to help him with his
restaurant. I think he’s bitten off more than he can chew.”

“Would you really
leave Seattle?” Chris stopped slicing and looked at Ted.

The pork was
cooked. Ted lifted it from the stock pot with a long fork and a carving knife
and set it on a cutting board. “I don’t know, dude. I never want to live in LA
again, but
familia
man.” He poured some of the liquid from the pot into
a measuring cup for the
masa harina
and began making sauce for the
tamales from the rest. “Where’s your lazy sister, dude? She’s supposed to be
helping.”

Chris dumped his
sliced fruit into the cask, put the lid on it and set it on the back porch. “If
I know her, she’s still sleeping. She wouldn’t get out of bed before noon if
her life depended on it.”

“Quit talking
about me.” Sarah dragged into the kitchen in her bathrobe. Her hair looked like
she combed it with a blender. She reached for a cup in the glass-doored
cabinet, then poured herself some coffee. “What’s the big rush anyway? We’re
not eating dinner until tonight.”

“
Chica
,
making
tamales
is an all-day event. If we don’t get started early, we
won’t be eating until Christmas.” Ted cut lard into the
masa
, then added
the pot liquor and began to mix it.

Sarah plopped down
at the kitchen table and looked like just breathing was hard work. “I’ll get
the decorations out of the attic after I’ve had a chance to wake up.”

Ted stepped back
to the counter by the sink and began shredding the pork. He took a fork in each
hand and pulled the tender meat apart. When it was all shredded, he put it in a
big bowl and mixed in some of the sauce he made. Then he added a little of the
meat back to the pot of sauce.

“Time to start
rolling tamales. You guys want to help?”

“I’m up for it,”
Chris said. “But I don’t know if the bride of Godzilla here is awake enough to
make a fist yet.”

Sarah threw a
spoon at her brother. “Watch who your calling names, buster. Remember, I know
stuff about you, you don’t want anyone to know.” She drug herself up from the
table and ambled over to the counter.

“Start with an
hoja
.”
Ted pulled a corn husk from the sink and shook off the water. “They’re nice and
soft now.” He spooned out a large portion of
masa
from the bowl. “Spread
the
masa
evenly on the
hoja
like this. Put a spoonful of meat in the
middle, then fold it up and tie it off.” Ted neatly wrapped up the
tamale
and tied it up with a strip off of an
hoja
. “Then put an
aceituna
in the end.” He stuck a large black olive in the open end of the
tamale
and put it on a cookie sheet.

Ted’s
tamales
looked professional. He could tell the ones Chris and Sarah made. They looked
like a little kid’s grade school project. Fortunately, he worked twice as fast
as they did and the great majority looked good.

****

Dinner was a great
success. All told, a dozen “orphans” had shown up. Sarah’s big paper turkey
looked great as a center piece, with little Mexican flags sticking out of each
side.

Most of the guests
were from Ted and Chris’ college days, but Sarah had drug a few strays home
with her. Catrina fit seamlessly in with the rest of the crowd. She was by far
the oldest one there. She regaled the crowd with stories from her days on the
Port of Seattle Police Department.

Since Ted had
orchestrated the meal, he was off the hook for dishes. Sarah and her friends
carried the dirty dishes back to the kitchen and Ted took his glass of sangria
in search of Catrina.

This was it. He
had to talk with her.

Catrina stood
alone on the front porch, gazing off into the distance.

“¿
Que pasa,
mujer?”
Ted asked as he stepped through the door.

Cat looked very
good in dark slacks and a red sweater. The gold hoops dangled from her ears and
the chain circled her neck matched her hair.

“I was just
thinking. We’ve come a long way in such a short time.”

“Where’s your son?
I thought Matthew was coming with you?” This was the first time Ted could
remember seeing softness in Catrina’s eyes. She had an almost vulnerable look.

“On no. He’s
having Thanksgiving with his girlfriend’s parents. He’s doing it to get back at
me. Forcing Mom to spend Thanksgiving alone. I can hardly wait to see what he
comes up with for Christmas.”

Ted sat on the
porch swing. “Cat, I’ve got to talk to you.”

She turned to face
him; looked in his face. “I know.”

There was that
wounded look. How could he tell her?

Silence hung in
the air between them.

“Yes?” Cat finally
spoke.

“I can’t do this anymore.”
There, he had said it. He had to get it all out. “I’m leaving Seattle. Moving
back home. My father needs me. Since he bought the restaurant he’s been in over
his head. He’s one of the best chefs in the world, but he can’t run a business.
They’re bleeding money.”

“So that’s what
this is about? Your father’s restaurant?” Catrina saw right through him. As
always.

“No. It’s family
pressure, but that’s not all. I can’t do this Cat. I believe in what you’re
doing, but not how you’re doing it. I can’t go around hacking into people’s
systems, breaking the law. I have to be able to sleep at night.”

“You’re too honest
for your own good.” Cat sat her glass down on the porch railing and hugged her
arms around herself. “I’ve always known this wasn’t right for you, Ted. You’re
too good for this kind of work. You’ve never been comfortable.”

“I really respect you.
I like hanging out with you, but I just don’t like what I’m becoming. I can’t
say ‘no’ to you. You could ask me to do anything and I’d do it. I can’t put
myself in that position.”

“Ted, it’s okay. I
understand. This kind of work isn’t for everybody. You’ll always be part of the
family.” She reached her hand out and took Ted’s. She pulled him to his feet
and wrapped her arms around him.

She felt good. All
warm and soft. He smelled her scent, the fragrance of her hair. He melted into
her body. His heart raced.

She held him for
several minutes. He melded with her and enjoyed the moment.
Man, if she was
only twenty years younger.

Catrina pulled him
closer and planted her lips firmly on his. “Don’t forget us, Eduardo Higuera.
If only you were twenty years older.” Another long kiss, then Catrina broke
away. She held his shoulders in her hands. “You have friends here, family. If
you ever need us, we’ll be here.”

Stunned, Ted felt
his groin throbbing, his pants felt tight. He didn't know what to say or do. He
wanted to be back in her arms, to feel her lips. But he didn't. This wasn't
right. He had to break away, to go home.

“I’ll stay until
we get your systems straightened out." Ted gulped in a big breath of air...
"I’ll make sure you get that new background check system up and running. I
expect that it’ll take until after the first of the year.”

“Ted, you do what
you have to do. I’m going to be busy for the next few weeks with a project of
my own.”

*****

The office of the
El
Chaparral
restaurant was eight by ten feet. A Formica covered counter along
one wall served as the desk. A statue of the
Virgin de Guadalupe
presided over the shelf on the opposite wall.

Ted sat with
yesterday’s receipts spread in front of him, a cup of coffee in his hand.

Coming home to LA
wasn’t coming home at all. It felt so foreign to him. In five years in Seattle,
he had put his roots down. Now he felt like a stranger in his home town.

Papa came through
the door, wiping his hands on a bar towel, smile on his face.

“
¿Como
estamos ayer?”

“We
did okay.
Not bad for a Friday night at all.”

Gina had spent a
week with Ted in LA, setting up the bookkeeping systems and helping him find a
new accountant. It was bitter sweet, spending the time with her.

She was entirely
focused on him. There were many tender moments, but she wouldn’t let him touch
her. She had made her commitment. He’d never again feel the softness of her
skin, the warmth of her flesh. He felt a lump in his throat. They had both made
their decisions.

When he finished
the bank deposit, he turned to the computer screen to enter the total. The
Seattle
Times
web site was up. He looked longingly at the front page stories from
his new/old home town.

“
Former Millennium
Systems CSO Missing
” the headline screamed.

What’s this?

Ted read the
story.

Richard
Freeman, former Chief Security Officer of Millennium Systems, was reported
missing by his wife. Elaine Freeman filed a missing persons report with Seattle
Police after Freeman failed to come home for 48 hours. Police spokesman, Sergeant
Matthew Flaherty Sr., says that an investigation is ongoing.

Freeman
recently left his position at Millennium Systems (MS) during a management
shakeup following the death of Chairman of the Board Terry Metcalf. The Seattle based Millennium Systems is one of the largest computer manufacturers in the
world.

MS CEO and
new Chairman of the Board, Alison Clarke expressed her concern for her former
employee’s safety. “Richard Freeman was a significant force in bringing MS from
the brink of bankruptcy into the new millennium. Our thoughts and prayers are
with his family. We can only hope for his quick return home.”

Freeman was
a “person of interest” in the death of DigiGuard Systems president Donna
Harrison, but all charges were dropped for lack of evidence. Freeman maintained
his innocence throughout the investigation.

Ted
sat and stared at the screen, stunned. Freeman missing? She couldn’t have,
could she?