Undercover Accomplice. Carol Ericson
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the password?” He fished the would-be kidnapper’s phone from his pocket and tossed it onto the bed beside him.
“I might have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She wedged a knee on the bed and scooped up the phone. “In the meantime, why don’t you have a look at Jeffrey’s picture just in case? We could send it in for facial recognition—if I were still in good standing with the CIA.”
“Yeah, I was counting on you having all the Agency’s resources at your disposal. Now I’ll just have to do this the sneaky way.”
She paused as she drew her phone from her purse, holding it in midair. “Are you telling me you have a contact in the CIA? Someone to do your bidding?”
“Do my bidding? I wouldn’t put it like that, but yeah, I have a little helper.”
Shaking her head, she said, “That agency has more leaks than a colander.”
She tapped her photos to bring up Jeffrey’s picture. “Give me your number and I’ll send it to you.”
“I can just look at it on your phone.” He snapped his fingers.
“It’s better if we have a copy, anyway.” She held her finger poised above her display. “Number?”
“Is this your sneaky way of getting my cell? You could just ask, you know.” He rattled off his cell number and she entered it into her phone.
Actually, it was just her sneaky way of keeping him away from her phone. She didn’t keep pictures on her cell, but she didn’t need Hunter looking at her text messages.
She tapped her screen with a flourish. “There. The picture is on its way. Now, I’ll get to work on this phone.”
She dragged a chair to the window and kicked up her feet onto the chair across from it. She powered on the stranger’s cell, which they’d turned off to avoid any tracking, but turning it back on couldn’t be helped.
“This guy your type?” Hunter held up his phone with Jeffrey’s mug on the display.
“Tall, dark and handsome?” She snorted. “You could say that.”
Hunter brought the phone up to his nose and squinted. “How tall was he?”
“Tall enough.” Sue eyed Hunter’s lanky frame stretched out on the bed, his feet hanging off the edge.
With a smile curling her lip, she hunched over the cell phone again.
Sue clicked through the phone to access a few of the backdoor methods she’d learned at the Agency for bypassing a password to get into a phone. These worked especially well for burner phones like this one—and she knew a thing or two about burner phones.
She glanced up as Hunter swung his legs off the side of the bed, hunching over his phone, his back to her. Seconds later, his cell buzzed and he murmured a few words into his phone.
He must’ve reached his secret CIA contact—one who hadn’t been suspended from the Agency. She just hoped he knew to keep her name off his lips.
A few taps later, the gunman’s phone came to life in her hand. She slid another glance toward Hunter’s back and launched the man’s text messages and recent contacts.
Hunter ended his own call and stood up, stretching his arms to the ceiling. “I’m going to grab a soda from the machine down the hall. Want something?”
“Something diet, please.” Tucking her hair behind one ear, she glanced up and pasted a smile on her lips.
When the door closed behind Hunter, Sue began transferring the data from the stranger’s phone to her own—contacts, pictures, texts and call history.
When she reached the last bit of data, Hunter charged into the room, a can of soda in each hand. “Any luck with that?”
She slumped in her chair, clutching the phone in her hand. “Not yet.”
Then she tapped the display one last time to erase everything the man had on his burner phone.
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