Dark Justice by Kristi Belcamino (smallest ebook reader .txt) 📗

a pour-over. You want some?”

“You’re so fancy,” I said, teasing.

He blushed again.

“Can we drink it on the roof?” I asked.

“Sure.” The roof was always my favorite part of my loft apartment.

With steaming mugs of coffee—that I had to admit was delicious—we headed up the stairs to the roof.

My old pergola covered in grape vines was doing well. It even looked like it had a fresh coat of paint. We sat on the upholstered furniture.

“It’s so great to see you.”

“I’m back for good, I think,” I said.

For a second he froze and said, “I can move out tomorrow.”

“No fucking way,” I said. “I’m buying a hotel. I’m going to live there.”

“What?” he spluttered, nearly spitting out his coffee.

I think I was nearly as shocked as he was. I’d never intended to live in my hotel. But seeing the Tenderloin and realizing it was no longer my home, made it feel like the right decision.

“I was wondering if you wanted to buy this place?” I said nonchalantly.

He frowned. “The loft?”

“No, the whole building.”

A flush instantly spread from his neck up to his cheeks.

He looked down. “Gia, I don’t think I can afford it. I mean that’s a super generous offer.”

I reached over and opened a small box stashed under a planter. Danny looked at me wide-eyed. I winked as I opened it. It had a metal cigarette case and lighter. I lit one and blew out the smoke before I answered.

“Not bad for a cigarette that’s probably a decade old,” I said. I ashed the cigarette and then smiled at Danny. “Here’s the thing. Way I figure it, with the rent-to-own plan we’ve had in place, you’ve already put a substantial down payment on it. Your mortgage wouldn’t be too crazy. In fact, your mortgage would be exactly what you pay for rent right now.”

I waited for his reaction.

He shook his head and exhaled. “That’s great, but nobody is going to give me a loan. I’m an off-the-grid hacker,” he said ruefully.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, inhaling the stale smoke again. “I forgot to tell you. I’m the bank. It’s contract for deed. Just keep doing exactly what you’re doing, and you’ll own the building and have the title. The rent you collect from your tenants will easily pay the property taxes.”

“Gia, I can’t.”

“You can,” I said.

He shook his head again.

“But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Deepfake,” he said.

“Huh?”

“The video of you. Someone who knows Deepfake technology.”

“Is that the Tom Cruise TikTok thing?”

“Yeah, that was the most famous one. And the hologram of Kim Kardashian’s dead father. And the video of Joaquin Oliver asking people to vote.”

I hadn’t heard of any of these those videos. I also had no idea who the last name was.

“Joaquin Oliver?”

Danny told me Joaquin Oliver was a high school student killed in the Parkland shooting. His parents had a Deepfake video made of him telling people to vote for gun safety.

“Creepy,” I said.

“Nah. Effective.”

“What did they make Obama do?”

“There’s ones of Trump, too,” he said. “And Daisy Ridley having sex. And Adolf Hitler. Obviously, all fake. Oh, not to mention those ads that ran with Russian president Vladimir Putin and North Korean leader Kim Jong-un.”

“Holy shit,” I said. “I’ve missed a lot. All I know is this all sounds dangerous as fuck.”

“It is,” Danny said sounding distracted. “From what I understand Deepfake relies on what’s called an auto encoder, an artificial neural network—”

“English, please,” I interrupted.

“Okay, it’s like this—This network compresses and encodes data, say from a video, and then reconstructs it. So basically, it’s breaking down images and videos of you and then superimposing them on a model who is representing you,” he said.

“I still don’t really get it.”

“That’s okay,” he said.

“How do we prove it’s not me?”

“I’m not sure. It’s damn good technology.”

“Apparently,” I said. “It was enough to make James believe it.”

“Oh shit.”

“I know.”

“It might take a while, but I’ll research what people do to show it’s fake.”

“Thanks.” I stood. “Listen I have to go. I’ll send over the paperwork tomorrow for the building purchase.”

In my eyes, it was a fair deal. I didn’t want the building anymore. I didn’t need the money. Danny had helped me out for free for more years than I could count by managing the building and hacking into any computer system in the world that I asked him to. He deserved to be financially secure. Not to mention, he’d risked his life before to help me. It was totally a fair deal.

“Gia!” he started to protest, but I was already down the stairs and out the door.

“I’ll have Dante send you that video,” I said over my shoulder.

Danny was good people.

I slipped the homeless guy a twenty-dollar bill and roared off in the Bugatti, shaking my head at my old neighborhood with its juice bars, barre studios, and boutique baby shops. I wouldn’t miss it at all.

My phone rang as soon as I got in the car.

“Gia, about the building…”

“Prove that video isn’t me,” I said and hung up before he could say anything else.

Twenty-Six

Back at the hotel, I was just ordering a smoothie from room service when Dante called.

“I just spoke to your lawyer and James.”

“You spoke to James?” I interrupted.

He continued. “And we all agreed you should leave town for a few days.”

“What?”

“If you’re not in town and more people end up dead you’ll have an alibi.”

That was crazy, but I couldn’t argue with the logic.

“I’ll go see Darling.”

Darling had moved to Mill Valley in Marin.

“Great,” Dante said. “Stay put until you hear from me.”

I didn’t answer.

Within an hour, I was driving across the Golden Gate bridge. Seagulls swooped above me, and the sun was out. Life wasn’t so bad.

In fact, it would be pretty damn good if I could only figure out who was killing people and why they were framing me for it. I hadn’t even been in town long enough to be the target for a framing. Had I? Odd as fuck.

It had to be someone on the gala foundation committee. That narrowed it