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He glanced at the time stamp of the post. Forty minutes ago, 7:20 a.m. local time. Seth had been in his car, thinking about Harper and chocolate cake, when some fucker had ignited a cyber-bomb in Seth’s corporate stronghold.
But this was Facebook. He could limit the damage. All he needed to do—
His gaze dropped to the small blue font under the post.
30 shares. 120 likes.
Seth clicked, opening up a new page. Sweet Jesus. Posted to tech news pages, tech journalists, and the personal accounts of business friends. All via what looked like his profile.
If Stanton Fox ever saw this post, the repercussions could prove disastrous—no, make that fatal—to their deal.
Lifting his head, he stared at Dillon. “I didn’t do this.”
Dillon worked his jaw, flexing it left and right with a stiffness that mirrored lockjaw. “That’s just the start.” He moved over to the bank of computers on Dillon’s sleek, black desk. “I logged into our servers. These posts didn’t originate in this office. Look at this.” Dillon stepped to the side as Seth joined him.
Seth’s Facebook account filled one large screen. On top of the post he’d already seen, was another, this one thirty minutes prior, 7:30 a.m. local time. A photo of Heath, taken as he exited police headquarters, accompanied the post.
Speeding tickets? No worries, mate, when your bro is a cop. Now, let’s get some hookers to celebrate our new 100 mil windfall. #crookedcops #lifeiseasy
He stared at the screen, seeing the words but unable to factor their existence as real. “This can’t be happening.”
But it was happening. Even as he spoke, people—his freaking contacts for fuck’s sake—were commenting, some joking, most critical, asking what the hell he was doing.
His stomach rolled as anger and disgust churned inside him in equal measure.
He signed Dillon out of the social network and logged in to his account. Deactivated.
What the fuck?
The hacker had set up a duplicate of his account and closed down the original?
A phone beeped. Heath snatched his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Fantastic.” He stared at Seth. “My Captain’s ordered me to his office. No guesses as to why.”
Before Seth could speak, the phone on Dillon’s desk rang. Its normal business-like tone sliced through the tense atmosphere with the stridency of a fire alarm.
Dillon snatched up the handset on the third ring. “Yes?” After a few seconds, he glanced heavenward. “Thanks, Megan. We’ll return the call. Keep screening and taking messages.” He hung up. “Stanton Fox’s secretary just called. Megan took a message. He wants you to phone him in the next five minutes.”
Seth closed his eyes and tried to gather the thoughts ricocheting in his head. Why was this clusterfuck happening? And who was behind it?
He straightened up and met Heath’s angry gaze. “Honest to fucking God, you think I’d do this?”
Heath threw his hands up in the air. “We couldn’t get a hold of you.”
“And that makes me guilty?”
“Of course not, but—”
“You know I’m not that fucking stupid. Some bastard’s impersonating me.” His mouth filled with a metallic taste. Swallowing didn’t help clear it away. “I’ll find out what the hell’s going on, and if you need me to talk to your Captain I will, but right now, I have to ring Fox.”
Heath opened his mouth before snapping it shut. His heavy sigh filled the room. “I was a dickhead, should’ve thought first, got pissed second.” He stabbed a finger at Seth. “But you need to make a crime report. Since this is cybercrime, that’s FBI territory.”
“If you can get things rolling with the FBI, Heath, that would help. Use me as the family’s point of contact. As for finding answers, Shazad has the resources and expertise to track this breach of security.” Dillon started tapping the screen of his phone. “I’ll get things started personally.”
“Looks like someone’s out to get you, brother.” Zach moved to stand in front of the desk and folded his arms over his chest, inadvertently showing off the tattoos of childhood memories that snaked up his forearms to disappear under the sleeves of his T-shirt. “One who knows enough about your family to target us, too.”
Seth would post that the account was not his and contact Facebook to take it down. How long would that take? And what damage could this fucker do in the meantime?
It wasn’t just his neck on the line here, but those of his brothers, too.
“Sweet Jesus.”
Seth swung his gaze to Dillon. “What?”
His brother held out his phone, shock evident in his slack features. Seth grabbed the device. As he read the Facebook post his hand clenched the phone hard enough to turn his fingers white from the pressure.
“Seth, you’re going to crack his cell phone, man. What the hell are you reading?” Zach asked.
The imposter had just chosen his next target.
Harper.
