Delta Force Defender

She huffed out a breath as she opened the second email. Great. The hottest guy she’d run into in months thought of her as a little sister. Typical.

Tipping the display toward him, she drew back and watched his profile as he digested the next message, his lips moving silently as he read it, his finger following the words. He must’ve read it a few times, as it took him a while to peel his eyes from the display. When he did, his jaw hardened and his eye twitched.

For all his carefree, easygoing ways, Cam really did care about Denver, and a strong desire to help him clear his commanding officer washed over her. She hated seeing anyone unfairly accused, and she’d had a feeling about these bogus emails ever since they landed in her inbox.

“Worse, huh?” She reached across him and opened the final email.

Cam took his time reading this one, as well, and when he finished, he punched the pillow next to him. “This is such garbage. All the CIA had to do was ask anyone who’s ever served with the major. Even now nobody in the field believes Denver was conspiring with terrorists.”

“Why’d he take off? Why didn’t he just face the music and prove his innocence?”

“It’s not supposed to work that way, is it? As a suspect, you don’t have to prove anything. It’s up to the prosecution to come up with the evidence to convict you. I’m guessing Denver recognized a setup when he saw one and figured the fix was in. There’s no fighting against that when evidence is fabricated.”

“He should’ve trusted the system.” She jutted her chin.

“Really?” He bumped her knee with his own. “Like you did? C’mon, even someone like you knows there are times when the system breaks down and you have to take matters into your own hands.”

“Even someone like me.” She drummed her fingers on the edge of the laptop.

He cleared his throat. “You know, someone who likes to follow the rules...which is usually a good idea. I’m not knocking it.”

“No offense taken. I have my reasons.” She shoved the computer from her lap to the coffee table. “I’m just wondering how someone knew to target me.”

“The CIA must’ve investigated the source of the emails. Let me guess. Fake IP address?”

“Yes, which they wrote off as coming from Dreadworm.”

“So the sender got a bunch of CIA email addresses from Dreadworm, picked one at random and sent out these lies about Denver? I don’t believe that for a minute, do you?”

“No, I think I was specifically targeted, but I don’t know why I’m being harassed now. I did what the sender expected and wanted me to do.” She shoved at her laptop with the toe of her boot.

“Because somehow they know you still have the emails, and they don’t like that.” He sat forward and dragged the computer to the edge of the coffee table. “You’re not quite the good little soldier they anticipated.”

“Serves them right.” She grabbed Cam’s water glass. “Do you want more water or something else?”

He held up one finger. “Does this LED light on your laptop monitor blink like this all the time?”

She squinted at the blue light at the tip of his finger. “I don’t know. I guess so. Doesn’t that just mean it’s on?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” He pulled the computer onto his legs and started clicking around.

“What are you doing?” She wrapped her hands around the glass. “Are you some kind of computer whiz, too?”

“No, but...” He dragged an icon from a system folder onto her desktop and turned toward her, his face tight. “This is a Trojan, and someone’s watching you...us, right now through your computer’s camera.”

Chapter Four (#ub3889647-a804-55e8-b26c-97fde8918936)

Martha swallowed. Her gaze darted from Cam’s blue eyes to the blue eye on her laptop. She snapped shut the computer. “How do you know that?”

“Shutting it solves the problem right this second, but that Trojan’s gonna have to be removed from your computer as soon as possible. It’s not just computer keystrokes and actions. The person on the other side can see you as long as your laptop is open and powered on.”

“Oh my God.” She covered her mouth. “I wonder how long this has been going on.”

“A tech can probably tell you that by looking at the program. It’ll have a date on it.”

“But how did you know? How did you know where to look?” The veil of her preconceived notions about Cam Sutton lifted—and she liked what she saw even more. Brawn and brains.

“About a year ago, my sister was being stalked.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “It became apparent that her stalker was watching her in her private moments. One of her friends, a real computer geek, came over to inspect her computer. First she watched for the blinking LED, and then she did a search for a common Trojan used to infect the computer and allowing an outside source to gain control of it. I looked for and found that same virus on your laptop.”

Martha’s mind raced and reeled over the times she’d had her laptop open in her bedroom, not bothering to shut it down. She hugged herself, digging her fingers into her upper arms. “Get it off. Can you get it off?”

“I can delete it. Hell, you can delete it, but I don’t know if that removes it from everywhere. It’s probably best if you take the laptop in or call someone to do it.” Cam tapped his chin with his index finger. “I wonder if they could hear us, too.”

“At least we were spared that. The microphone on my laptop doesn’t work. No sound in. No sound out.”

“That’s an unexpected bonus.” He hunched forward, digging his elbows into his knees. “Whoever was watching you saw me, but at least that person won’t know who I am and how I’m connected to Denver.”

She handed him the glass and pushed at his solid shoulder. “Put that in the sink or get yourself more. I’m going to open this up and delete that program. Then I’ll take my computer in and get the virus removed from everywhere else.”

Glass in hand, Cam pushed up from the sofa while Martha flipped open the laptop, keeping her thumb over the camera lens. She gasped and nearly drove her finger through her computer as a parade of skulls and crossbones marched across her display, the word busted floating between the grinning teeth.

Cam clinked the glass on the countertop. “What’s wrong?”

“Come and look at this. He knows I...you discovered the commandeered camera. He’s admitting he’s busted.”

“Son of a gun.” Cam hovered over her shoulder. “Cheeky bastard.”

“I wish I could just communicate with him and ask him what he wants. Oh.” Martha put her fingers to her lips as her email icon blinked, indicating a new message. “Maybe I can.”

“If you open that email, don’t click on any links. That’s how your computer gets infected. He might be trying to load something even more insidious on your laptop.”

“More insidious than a program to take over my camera to spy on me? That would be hard.”

“Hold on.” He backtracked to the kitchen. “Do you have any masking tape in here?”

“Post-its in the drawer to the right of the dishwasher.”

He returned with two pink Post-it notes stuck to his fingertips. He slid a finger beneath the pad of her thumb, covering the eye of the camera with one Post-it and stuck the other on the edge of the first one to hold it in place.

“Go for it.”

She opened the email and licked her dry lips.

“‘Do you want to...play?’” Cam read the message out loud, which took off its sinister edge and made it sound almost sexy.

Of course, Cam could make anything sound, or look, sexy.

Dragging in a breath, she put her fingers on the keys.