To Catch a Rat Read online

  To Catch a RAT

  Darknet Book 1

  SJ Grey

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by SJ Grey

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  V1.0

  To Catch a RAT

  (Darknet #1)

  She said she was being spied on. No one believed her. Now, she’s dead.

  Emma's best friend Joss had a wild story to tell. She’d been hacked. She was being watched. She was in danger. No one believed her. Not even Emma.

  Now she’s dead. The police write it off as accidental death, but Emma's not so sure.

  The more she learns, the deeper she’s drawn into a web of deceit and dark motives. Turns out Joss’s brother developed a revolutionary dark web application, one that people will kill to get their hands on. He's now in jail on a dodgy manslaughter charge. And then there's Emma's boyfriend, who she discovers is lying about his identity.

  Now Emma’s the one in danger, and she's not sure who will believe her or who she can trust. Joss’s murder was only the start.

  Books in the Series

  To Catch a RAT (Darknet #1)

  #RedTeam Attack (Darknet #2)

  Exit Node (Darknet #3)

  Wetware Protocol (Darknet short story)

  Active Peers (Darknet short story)

  Author’s Note:

  This book is set in New Zealand, and follows British English spelling and usage

  Huge thanks go to MC and KH for their inside knowledge.

  Any mistakes are my own.

  Part I – Emma

  Tuesday 11 December

  Chapter One

  “I need you to help me.”

  Emma couldn’t have been more shocked if Elvis stood on her doorstep. She gazed at Jocelyn. They’d been friends once, a long time ago, and it wasn’t Jocelyn’s fault everything changed. Also, she looked rough. Really rough. The sleeping-outside kind of roughness, with her corn-coloured hair tangled and unwashed, and her shirt sweat stained under the arms.

  “Who is it?” Mark called from the kitchen.

  Jocelyn took a step back at his voice, her gaze darting left and right. “Who is that?” she whispered.

  Emma didn’t know who to reply to first. “That’s my boyfriend,” she said. How she could explain Jocelyn to him was another thing altogether. “I’ve got it,” she called back.

  She gazed again at Jocelyn, at the red-rimmed eyes and bitten-to-the-quick fingernails. “What are you doing here, Joss?”

  Jocelyn moved closer, her shoulders hunched though it wasn’t cold outside. “Caleb said I should come to you if I ever needed help.”

  She carried on speaking, but Emma’s brain had fritzed out, stuttering over the casual statement. “He said what?”

  There was a pause. “If anything happens to me,” Jocelyn continued, “I want you to have Minerva. Please take her.” She reached out and closed one hand around Emma’s wrist. “They’re coming for me. I promised to keep her safe. Please say you’ll take her. Please.”

  “You still have Minerva?” Of all the questions to ask, Emma fell onto the most mundane. That cat must be fifteen years old now.

  “She’s Caleb’s. Of course I still have her.”

  “Hey,” said Mark from somewhere behind Emma. “Who is it?”

  Jocelyn released her grip, turned around, and fled down the short path as though the hounds of hell were chasing her.

  “Jocelyn,” called Emma, but her cry was ignored.

  “Something I said?” Mark sounded as baffled as Emma felt. “And who was that?”

  Could she get away with saying it was a random stranger at the wrong house? No. She was a terrible liar. Her cheeks would heat, and she’d scratch her ear or show some other tell. “It was somebody I used to know.”

  “At seven in the morning? Why did she run off? What did she want?”

  “She asked me to look after her cat.”

  “What did you say? You know I’m allergic.”

  “I didn’t get chance to say anything. You appeared, and she ran.”

  “She looked kinda familiar. Did you call her Jocelyn?”

  Emma didn’t want to talk about this. She needed to head off this conversation, right now. “Are we going now?” She could tell Mark was about to launch into another round of questions, none of which she had any desire to answer. “I don’t want to be late. Not today.” They were kicking off a major project at work, and Emma was presenting to the Chief Executive, to seek formal approval. This was her chance to star. And then later, she was taking her team to the pub for celebratory drinks.

  It promised to be a great day. She wouldn’t allow herself to fret over Jocelyn and Caleb and the way life had flipped out of control.

  The drive to the station was mercifully short, and Emma pretended to be busy, reading and answering emails on her phone. Her train had just pulled in when they arrived, and that gave her the perfect excuse to hurry from the car, blowing a kiss to Mark before she dashed up the steps to the platform.

  Once on the train though, she had plenty of time to think. An entire hour to herself. With her earbuds firmly in place and her tablet in hand, she sifted through the conflicting thoughts and memories.

  Jocelyn said they were coming for her. Who? How did she know where Emma lived, and why would she think Minerva wasn’t safe? Who’d want to hurt a cat?

  Mark thought she looked familiar. He couldn’t have remembered her from the news stories, years ago. Could he have seen her more recently?

  Emma gazed out the window, at the sea in the distance, but in her mind she saw Caleb’s face splashed across the newspapers. By now, he’d be halfway through a six-year sentence for manslaughter. Did he blame Emma for his conviction?

  She shivered. Why would Caleb send Jocelyn to her? And what the hell was Joss talking about?

  The confident and chatty woman that befriended Emma was gone. In her place was someone who jumped at the slightest noise and was afraid to leave the house. Her making the journey across town, to Emma’s place, was significant.

  The chirrup of her phone drew her attention. It was Mark.

  “Hey,” she said, pressing the phone to her ear.

  “Hey. That woman who called this morning—was that Jocelyn Rush?”

  What? “Yes. How did you know?”

  “She’s been posting on the GoodNeighbour forum. Asking for help. Thinks her house is bugged, or some shit. I’ll forward you the post. She sounds paranoid. You said she’s a friend of yours?”

  “Was, a long time ago.”

  “She’s the twin sister of that murderer, Caleb Rush. You did know, didn’t you?”

  Only too well. And this was a conversation Emma was definitely not having on the train. “Sorry. Reception is awful here. Catch you later.” She disconnected, and then on an impulse, switched her phone off.

  No. This wasn’t happening.

  Like a row of tumbling dominoes, her carefully reconstructed life threatened to come crashing down.

  A couple of hours later, Emma picked up her personal email when she went to buy coffee. Sure enough, Mark had forwarded her the thread from the local GoodNeighbour for
um. She rarely went on the site, and shied away from a social media presence at all, but Mark was an avid follower.

  Jocelyn’s initial post, from a month ago, was brief.

  Can you recommend a good PI? I’m being harassed around my house, inside and out. It’s been going on for years, and I need it to stop. Right now!

  A flurry of replies advised her to contact the police, and fit security cameras and motion-activated lights outside. Mark was one of the commenters, seconding a suggestion to contact the police.

  A week later, Jocelyn added another comment.

  I talked to the police several times, but they said I’m imagining it. There’s nothing wrong with me, and this is very real. I changed my locks, but they were broken from the inside. Someone is sending me a message. How can I sweep my house for wires? I know they’re listening to my calls. I am not overreacting.

  If you didn’t know Jocelyn and Caleb, you might think her to be paranoid. Jocelyn’s final post was dated yesterday.

  This has to stop. Please, someone help me, before it’s too late.

  Chapter Two

  Emma’s website project had been running for months, with her leading the liaison between the IT department and the end users of the Ministry of the Interior, a minor government department. That was the thing about working in Wellington, the centre of the New Zealand politics. Most of the people she knew worked for one government department or another.

  Today was the culmination of a complex investigation period to develop a new shared website, to replace the existing intranet. Internal communications were her specialty, and she’d worked hard to get to this level.

  Her teammates chattered around her, but she tuned them out and focused on her presentation. She needed the Chief Executive’s approval today to proceed with the next phase. She had screen mock-ups and a demo of the new search facility to showcase, along with data about costs and expected timelines.

  While Emma tweaked the position of a line of text, and then changed it, her mind hummed on another topic. Jocelyn. Tempting as it was to pretend this morning’s visit never happened, the fear in Joss’s face nagged at Emma. She had to call around and check Joss was okay. When could she go? She didn’t have her car today, since she’d be going for drinks after work, but she could ask Mark to take her. Maybe that was a good idea? It meant the visit would be kept brief, but she’d have to explain about Joss to him.

  “I don’t need to say good luck, Em.” Si, her lead architect gazed down at her. “You’ve got this.”

  For a second, she thought he meant the visit to Jocelyn. Get a grip. “Thanks. I think.”

  Si huffed a laugh. “You’re going to be more eloquent with the leadership group, I hope. Who else is with the CE today?”

  “Heads of the IT departments for Justice, Social Development, Corrections, and the Police, along with a rep from the independent auditors. No pressure.” She forced a confident smile.

  “Rather you than me.”

  Emma stood and smoothed her skirt. “It’s a team effort, Si. Without your input, we’d have nothing.” She checked her phone, made sure it was on silent, and grabbed her laptop. It was time.

  Fifteen minutes later, she stood in front of an expectant group of people. Her nerves bubbled beneath the surface, but she squashed them down. Six months of planning had led to this moment.

  She greeted everyone, thanked them for attending, and then started her presentation. “Up to now, each government agency has operated in isolation. But with so many multi-agency collaborations in place, wouldn’t it make more sense to have a shared portal?” She glanced at each attendee in turn. “Previous attempts to develop a portal have failed, because our individual systems vary so much, but over the past two years, the gap has closed. We’re now at the stage where we can share information from one platform to another, with minimal effort.”

  They were hanging on every word, thank God. Emma smiled, clicked to the next slide, and continued. Her speech was rehearsed, her timing perfect.

  The questions were what she expected. Security. Cost. Timing. Upgrades. Flexibility. There were a couple of technical curve-balls, but she knew how to deal with those—make notes and promise to reply by the end of the day.

  The room fell silent, and the attendees looked at each other. The CE, Arthur Bridges, spoke up. “I can confirm the Ministry for the Interior is adopting this approach. We’ll prototype the portal, and then work with you all to determine your upgrade routes.” He nodded to her. “Good work, Emma. Please convey my appreciation to your team, for making this possible.”

  She wanted to punch the air but had to make do with a beaming smile. She did it. They had approval to proceed. Her mind was in a happy whirl as she walked back to her desk. There was so much to do.

  Mark had left a message, asking how it went.

  She called him back. “It was great. The best outcome possible. The CE buys into the prototype and recommends for the other agencies to follow suit.”

  “Well done, Em.” His voice was warm. “We should celebrate tonight.”

  She was about to say yes, when she remembered Joss. Christ. How could she have forgotten? “I need to run an errand on the way home. Would you mind driving me? It shouldn’t take long.”

  “No problem. Catch you later.”

  She was so lucky to have Mark. He was quite simply the perfect boyfriend. Nothing was ever too much trouble. He didn’t leave his dirty laundry on the bedroom floor, he took his turn with the chores, and he insisted on cooking at least three nights each week. His accountancy job was every bit as hectic as hers, but he never let her down. They liked the same music, TV, films and food, and burned up the sheets together. Mark was a keeper, for sure.

  Sometimes Emma felt she ought to pinch herself and make sure she wasn’t dreaming him up. In the year they’d been together, she hadn’t found anything about him that she didn’t like. He was almost too perfect.

  Nope. He was a great match for her. She deserved some good luck.

  She continued down the corridor to her open-plan office, ready to break the news to her team, and found them clustered around her desk, expectant looks on their faces.

  “We did it.” She put down her laptop and phone, and then high-fived them each. Danny. Greg. Mel. Bernie. Si. “They loved it. I need to get the funding signed off, but that’s a formality, and then we can kick it off. I’ll get the paperwork underway.” She blew out a breath. “But first, we get coffee. And maybe even doughnuts.”

  Emma walked on air for the rest of the day. Finishing early and going to the pub was the perfect end to a great day—great apart from Joss’s visit, that is. Emma still had that to deal with. Did she really need to see Jocelyn tonight or could it wait until tomorrow?

  It had to be tonight. That stuff she was posting online was worrying, to say the least. It was a couple of years since Emma last reached out to Joss, only to be rebuffed.

  How did Joss think Emma could help? She couldn’t take Minerva home. Not only because Mark said he was allergic, but also because they lived in a rental property, and she didn’t know how her landlord would feel about her having a pet.

  Emma was shying away from the real questions. Who did Joss think was harassing her, and why?

  Mark waited at the station, to meet her train, and greeted her with a kiss. “What are we doing, then? Takeaway and a bottle of wine?”

  It was so tempting, to ignore Jocelyn. To put the visit off for another evening. Emma couldn’t, though.

  “You remember that woman that called around this morning? I want to go and make sure she’s okay. She lives in Peka Peka. Would you mind taking me? Please?”

  “Jocelyn Rush?”

  Emma nodded.

  “Sure. How about I drop you off, pick up something for dinner, and then come back to collect you?”

  “If you don’t mind, that’d be great. I promise I won’t be long.” Emma gazed at him. Why wasn’t he asking her questions?

  Mark cocked his head to one side, a
frown creasing his brow. “What?”

  “You didn’t even ask why I wanted to go see her.”

  “I asked you about her this morning, and you changed the subject. I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

  Yep. He was officially Mr. Perfect. Emma should be counting her blessings, instead of trying to find issues.

  She directed him the twenty-minute journey from the station to the tiny hamlet of Peka Peka, and down the track to what used to be the Rush family home. Emma had only been back a few times since the trial. It didn’t look much different. The sprawling pohutakawa trees were bigger, and the once-white fences were in need of paint, but that was all. Joss had probably been living alone for the past few years, and was unable to maintain the property like her stepfather used to.

  “I will ask one thing,” said Mark. “How well do you know the Rushes?”

  “We moved next door to them when I was eight. Caleb and Joss were a little older, but we hit it off.” Emma allowed herself to remember a long, hot summer, when she spent every waking moment playing outside. “Caleb saved my life, you know. There’s a river at the back of their section, and it was swollen with rain. I fell in and went under, and he pulled me out.”

  Mark glanced at her. “Is that why you hate swimming?”

  “Yep. It’s my least favourite activity.”

  That was one way to put it. It petrified her was another, but this wasn’t the time or place to think about it. They’d arrived at the house.

  “Okay,” she said. “Text me when you’re five minutes away.”

  “No problem. See you soon.”