I wrapped my arms tightly around my mid-section – hoping to ease my pain. Crying was inevitable, I simply hoped I could keep the tears at bay until I was alone.

“You’re telling me that someone hacked into my accounts, took all my money, and didn’t leave a single trace?” I murmured.

He lifted a one-inch-thick pile of paperwork from his desk and held it firmly between his thumb and forefinger. “We’ve got the account number that the money was initially transferred to, but the funds aren’t there any longer.”

“There’s got to be some record of where the money went. Right?”

“There does,” he said with a slight nod. “And, there is. But…”

My heart fluttered with hope. There had to be a way to find it. There simply had to.

He set the stack of paperwork aside and shook his head. “I’m sorry to say the account no longer exists. The money was moved several times. At one point, the funds were split into multiple accounts. Then, they were converted to cash. From that point, it’s impossible to trace where the money went.”

My father’s intelligence coupled with a little luck in the stock market had built the fortune, and I’d spent my lifetime acting as if it didn’t exist. To think that someone managed to get to my accounts, drain them of several million dollars – and do so without my knowledge or approval – was incomprehensible.

“But, there’s a name. There must be a name,” I muttered. “An account can’t be opened without a name and a social security number.”

His blank expression confirmed my fear.

“Tell me you’ve got a name, John,” I pleaded. “My dad hired you because you’re the best.”

He laced his fingers and lowered his chin. “Neither my abilities – nor the firm’s security measures – should be in question. Our system of checks and balances were met. Passwords were prompted and entered. Mother’s maiden names, high school mascots – everything seemed legitimate. On the surface, it appeared that you were the one transferring the funds. Your presence today, however, indicates you weren’t. I’m truly sorry, Kimberly.”

My eyes thinned. “This was someone who knew me?”

“It’s difficult to say.”

“You said they had my passwords…”

“It could be someone you know, or it could be someone who used computer software devised to obtain such information.” He lifted the stack of documents that he’d previously set aside and flipped through the pages mindlessly. “The FBI will be conducting an investigation. I’ll forewarn you to reserve little hope the funds will be found. This isn’t a common occurrence, but I have seen it happen before. Cash is impossible to trace.”

Impossible to trace unless someone knew where to look. I had my suspicions that it was someone I knew.

Someone I’d loved.

The son-of-a-bitch probably started planning to rob me right after he swept me off my feet. I should have known better than to ever let my guard down. Confiding in him that I had the nest egg was a mistake I’d undoubtedly regret until the day I died.

Admitting now that I once loved him made me feel ill. Thoughts of my future reminded me of how bleak life would be without the interest income from my investments.

I owned a cute little shoe boutique. It was my pride and joy, but it produced virtually no revenue. The earned interest of my inheritance was my main source of income. Without it, living day to day – even in my modest home – would be impossible.

I stared blankly at him, waiting for something to change. For him to tell me that there was something left. A crumb. A few thousand dollars.

Something.

He stood and straightened his tie. “I’m sorry, Kimberly. I know Isaac and Janet are turning over in their graves about this.”

Fearing my legs wouldn’t hold me if I stood, I chose to remain seated. As he came around the corner of his desk, the sorrow he wore caused my stomach to twist into a knot.

“Whoever did this was a professional?” I pressed my forearms tight to my mid-section. “Someone who knew what they were doing? Someone who didn’t leave a trail?””

“Absolutely. It isn’t that they didn’t leave a shred of evidence, because they did.” He exhaled a long breath. “It’s more difficult than that. When the funds were turned to cash, all traceable activity vanished.”

I drew a slow breath, and then stood. After bracing myself on the arm of the chair, I met his sorrowful gaze. “The FBI can’t trace the cash?”

“They’ll try, but I have doubts they’ll do anything in a manner timely enough to recover the funds. Cases like this are always shoved to the back burner, so to speak.”

“To find this guy, a person would have to move quickly. Is that what you’re saying?”

His gaze narrowed. “For you to find him?”

I nodded.

“It would require more than moving quickly. It would entail finding a computer genius who was capable of hacking deep into the bowels of a financial network designed to thwart such activity. There’s a handful of such people. They’re either employed by the government, or they’re very anti-government,” he explained.

“A hacker?”

“A hacker who isn’t opposed to breaking the law. They’d have to search without warrants, or cause. The person in question would have to be a criminal with experience in manipulating funds. Not simply a criminal, a professional criminal.”

My mouth twisted into a smirk.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you know such a mastermind?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

Eager to find my money – and to bury the prick who stole it – I brushed the wrinkles from my dress and straightened my posture.

“Take your time giving the FBI any information they might need,” I said. “It’ll buy me some time. I may need it.”

“If you retrieve the funds before they do, there’ll likely be no prosecution for the crime.”

I chuckled a dry laugh. “If I catch this son-of-a-bitch, there’ll be nothing left of him to prosecute.”