Sky's Lark by Cheyenne Meadows Page A

to be less gullible, trusting no one, and constantly searched for clues that a man had slipped from his pedestal to wallow in the mud with thugs and criminals. Thomas purposely kept his nose clean and watched his back for that very reason. A rumor, a hint of wrongdoing, would send a whole team of busybodies to his door to comb through his life with a magnifying glass, something that simply couldn't happen.
    The green bar across his computer screen filled completely, signaling the completion of the analyzing program. Sitting forward, he clicked the mouse, haphazardly glancing over the results. What he saw shocked the breath out of him.
    "What the…?
    Instead of the usual results of no more than a handful of inquiries, usually from credit card companies intent upon checking out his financial situation in order to send him more applications than a person could stand, he discovered someone had deeply and intently rifled through his account, sneaking past more than one barrier, only to reach a pitfall which led them to a dead end, a neat trick and one he insisted the lead DEA IT person install to guard all his personal files and protect confidential data. That he used it for his personal information only made sense to Thomas, though he dared not mention it to anyone else. Technological security was a huge issue with any government computer and he wasn't the only employee that took advantage of that protection to borrow for his personal life.
    "Who are you, you son of a bitch?" Frantically, he read through the many hits, finding time and again where someone methodically beat at his financial door, nearly managing to bypass his final wall. A tidal wave of panic roared through him as he realized how close they came to finding multiple account transfers and other documentation directly linking him to not only Santora, but to a few other unscrupulous characters that the federal government would prefer lived behind bars for life or had already met their demise, now sweating it out in eternal hell. His fingers flew over the keyboard, backtracking the intruder, searching for any identifying factor he could use to find and eliminate the threat once and for all.
    Each and every time, the program spit out the same information. The local library. That was the origin of the inquiries, which meant either someone actually spent hours per day sitting on an unyielding wooden chair, working hard to delve into his business, or they were one of these computer gurus that could transmit information from their computer anywhere in the world and send it through another computer, tricking the program and person into believing the actual middle computer held responsibility rather than the original. He would bet on the latter.
    Running his hands through his short blond hair, he considered his options. So far, the final wall held tight, which meant the guru needed more time and ability to slink past. That could hold for another day or decade, he couldn't be sure. In the meantime, he had to find a way to cover his tracks better, but he dare not erase vital emails and other information, lest a game of hardball became necessary. His hedge against blackmail would come in quite handy if any one of the traitors decided to finger him to the authorities.
    Still unsure what to do about the hacker, he flipped over to his secure email account, noting a recent message from Shark. Clicking on it, he found a short note explaining that the boss was looking for a woman, the one who had turned him over to the DEA to begin with. A small black and white picture sat below the words. He clicked on it, enlarging it to full screen, and blinked. Hitting the print icon, he sat back, immediately grabbing the paper as it fell into the tray.
    Once more, he relaxed in his seat, this time holding the image before him. "Well, I'll be damned." Staring at it a moment longer, a slow smile appeared on his face. Not only did he know her, but he could pull up her contact information in a matter