“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
I get everyone else’s drink orders, and just as I’m passing a glass of champagne to Sarah, Henn calls us over to his computer screen. “She’s logged off,” he announces. “Let’s go in.”
We all gather around Henn’s computer, bursting with anticipation.
“Well, she’s already deposited your checks—one hundred eighty thousand big ones,” Henn says. “I bet that boils your blood, huh, Jonas?”
Jonas grunts.
“And she just transferred half of it into her savings account. Hmm,” Henn says, sounding perplexed.
“What?” Sarah asks, her eyes bugging out.
“Even after today’s deposit, Oksana’s got only about half a million total in these two accounts.” He furrows his brow.
“Hmm,” I say.
“Hmm, indeed,” Henn agrees. “Chump change. These must be Oksana’s personal accounts—definitely not The Club’s main accounts.”
“Damn,” Sarah says. “So how do we find the big money?”
Jonas walks away from the group to the other side of the room, apparently mulling things over.
“We just have to wait for them to log into their main bank accounts,” Henn says. “It could be five minutes, five hours, five days—who knows?”
I glance at Kat and something’s made her visibly anxious all of a sudden, though I have no idea what it was.
“But I guarantee they’ll lead us there sooner or later,” Henn continues. “And in the meantime, I’ll take a nice, long gander around their files and data, make copies of everything, see if there’s anything of interest. Oh, and I’ll listen to Max’s voicemails, too. That’s so cool you got Max’s phone, Sarah.” He sips his beer. “Dang, there’s a lot to do.”
I exhale loudly, drawing everyone’s attention, including Kat’s. “Well, it looks like poor Henn’s gonna be working through the night again, going through all this stuff.” I pull out my phone, intending to text Reed about those RCR tickets. “What do you say, Party Girl with a Hyphen—you wanna paint Sin City red with me again?”
“I’d actually like to help Henn, if that’s okay,” Kat says.
I’m blown away. She’d rather stay here and help Henn with his hacking shit than watch the RCR concert from backstage?
“I’m kind of excited about all this. I have a strong motivation to want to bury these guys,” she adds. She looks at Sarah and her facial expression bursts with protectiveness. “Would that be okay with you, Henn? Or would I be in your way?”
My heart is racing and my skin is buzzing. I wouldn’t have predicted Kat turning down backstage tickets at the Garden Arena to help Henn hack into The Club—not in a million years.
“No, that’d be awesome,” Henn says. “But only if you really want to. I mean Josh and Jonas arepayingme to do this, so . . .”
“Could you use my help, too?” I ask.
Henn’s face lights up. “Yeah. That’d be great.”
“Okay, then. I’ll order us room service and the three of us will get to work.”
“Make that the four of us,” Sarah says. “I’ll stick around and help, too. I’m pretty motivated to bury these guys, too.”
We all look at Jonas. Obviously, this is his cue to say, “Me, too.” Or better yet, “No, baby, lemme take you out to celebrate how you kicked the bad guys’ asses today.” But Jonas doesn’t say either of those things. Of course not. Because he’s an imbecile—a sociallyinept imbecile. Instead, my stupid serial-killer-moron of a dumbshit-brother just stands in the corner, silently sipping his beer. Well, I guess I’ll just have to give the fucker a little push.
“Nah,” I say. “You two kids should go out andcelebrate.” I look at Jonas pointedly. “Or stayinand celebrate, whatever floats your boat. Either way,definitely celebrate—you both kicked ass today.”
Jonas’ eyes flicker with sudden understanding of what I’m trying to tell him. He looks at Sarah, but he’s already blown it—she’s looking away, gritting her teeth. Oh shit. She looks like she’s ready to join Kat in roasting some testicle s’mores.
I grin at Sarah, trying to charm her into forgiving my stupid brother. “The three of us will move our party down to my suite and let you two crazy kids swing on the chandeliers up here.”
Jonas takes a long, slow sip of his beer, staring at Sarah—and she’s flashing him the most adorable look of defiance I’ve ever seen. Well, actually, she’s flashing him thesecondmost adorable look of defiance I’ve ever seen—the first being the look Kat flashed me last night when she stood in that hallway in her skimpy undies, dripping wet, absolutely crazed with jealousy, banging on the call button for the elevator.
