How to Hack a Hacker - A.J. Sherwood Page 0,1
up on catching me, anyway? After six years, haven’t I proven that I’m on your side? That I only have the best of intentions? I’m like a cyber friend you hang out with online, the cool one you can confess dark secrets to. I’m hurt you’re not warming up to me after all our time together, very hurt.”
Bullshit. K still sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “It’s very hard to trust someone when I don’t know their name, face, motivations, or anything else about them. I swear you threw the letter K at me just so I’d have something to refer to you by. It’s not even attached to your real name.”
“It’s actually scarily impressive how deductive you are. Hit me, Sherlock. Show off your skills.”
Rolling his eyes, Brannigan decided to play along. Who knew, maybe he could squeeze a half clue out of K doing it. “You’re likely late twenties or early thirties. Male. Either bisexual or gay, likely gay. You’ve got a Mid-western accent, but it’s not pronounced. You moved a lot as a kid; your accent is bits and pieces from different regions, but I’d say your teenage years were spent in the Midwest.”
“Daaaamn. You really are good. You got most of that right.”
“You’re not going to tell me what I got wrong, are you?” Brannigan guessed dryly.
“Now what would the fun be in that?”
Brannigan resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. If he did it too often, it gave him a headache. He’d learned that the hard way from previous conversations with K. “You didn’t really call me to talk about my date tonight, did you?”
“Only half the reason. Although you should seriously cancel that. You’d thank me for it later.”
“K, I’m literally five minutes—”
“—away from the office, I know. It’s fine, I actually emailed you everything you need to know. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Someone’s trying to mess with your permits.”
Brannigan groaned aloud. Permits were part and parcel of his business, and he was used to them. Used to the time it took to create plans a city council would approve of, the time it took for those plans to be approved, and all of the hassle of the paperwork involved. It was why any real estate project he started often took at least six months to get off the ground, as the scope of his projects were never simple.
Needless to say, he didn’t like it when something went afoul with his permits. It always meant delays, and too many delays had a domino effect. “Mess with them how?”
“I’m seeing bribes going into pockets right now. I think I can straighten this out on my end, but there might be a few delays. You just had to buy up Mob territory, didn’t you?”
Brannigan went taut in his seat. “You think it’s the Irish Mob doing this?”
“Meh. Maybe? Or someone has an agenda I don’t currently know about, and their own reasons. I’ve got some digging to do there.”
Brannigan couldn’t very well pretend to be surprised. His attempt to turn the Irish Mob’s territory back into a legitimate neighborhood had always been rocky from the get-go. They hadn’t minded him tearing down old buildings and clearing some of the sketchier properties. It wasn’t until he’d put in loan offices and more street lights that tensions had gotten ugly. Right now, Brannigan was braced for a fight.
Permits weren’t the fight he’d intended, but it was a Monday. He was due to start off the week rough. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’ll tell you when I can figure it out.”
“I know you will. I don’t suppose you can tell me why? We’ve been together six years, baby, throw me a bone.”
“You’re terrible when you try to sweet-talk me. I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Makes two of us. Come on, K, one thing.”
There was a beat of silence that stretched into two, an audible hesitation, then K slowly admitted, “It’s not because of you, actually. I owe your dad.”
“My father?” Brannigan could not have been more surprised if a planet had been dropped on him. Then again, he shouldn’t be. His father had spent his entire life helping people. Well, that is, after he went legit. Brannigan had met more than a few of the recipients, and even though his father was retired, people still came out of the woodwork to try and return some previous favor. “What did he do for you?”
“Saved my life. And I’m not telling