My mind spins. “Monitor? You’ve spied on me?” I study the hard drive.
And stupid me gave you the password to my Wi-Fi thinking it wouldn’t matter since I’d be dead soon anyway.
Once it’s connected, this server plants undetectable back doors to my laptop and phone. It provides access to my text messages, phone calls, Internet searches, social media, photos, and even my GPS location.
I’m curious to discover the maker but unable to find any brands on it. “This isn’t legal.” I get a butter knife from the kitchen drawer and force it open. No brand, no name, no trace. It hits me, and I grin. “They don’t sell servers in this shape, and you don’t have the skills to build this. Whose is it?”
“It’s mine.” Cecilia’s voice is steady and calm like the negotiators I’ve seen in movies who try to calm bank robbers who have taken hostages.
“Can’t be. Besides, if you got on my network, I would have seen it.”
She smiles. “Sure about that?”
“I know every hacker at my level or better. I know their work.” There’s no way Cecilia, of all people, not even knowing what a MAC address is could… “Where did you get this?”
“I made it. Not true, I designed it. My factory made it.”
Factory?
I lift the broken hard drive and inspect its components. It’s professional and nothing she could make at home. There are no prefabricated parts that I recognize. “You don’t make computer parts. You run a home-organizing company. I saw your fridge.”
“I also specialize in helping suicidal clients.”
I think back to her holding the iPhone and USB stick in her hands as if they were dead fish. “You can’t have made this. The only person who can do this is…”
Holy shit.
I gasp. “This is Whale’s work. You know him?”
Cecilia nods.
A cold rush bursts through me, forcing me to hold on to the back of the chair. “How?”
“I am him.”
Unable to control myself, I burst out laughing at the absurdity. “No. You’re not.”
“Yes.” Her voice remains calm like a lake mirroring the sky.
“But he’s a man.” I stare at her in disbelief.
“Why do you think that?”
My hands flap out in exasperation. “No woman would dream of calling themselves Whale. You even said it yourself.”
“No. I said no man would dream of it.” She grins, with pride in her voice.
“You…” I close my eyes. There’s no way this is true. “You sent Henrik nude pictures. No one like us, knowing how easy it is to get access, would ever do that.”
“No, we wouldn’t. They weren’t of me. I downloaded them from a porn site and cropped out the faces.” Cecilia shows me a photo album on her phone with several naked women resembling her, posing in various sexy positions. “You never looked at them, did you?”
I shake my head. “I wanted to be respectful.”
What a waste that was.
Cecilia has spied on me this entire time? None of this has been real, or has it? “Is Henrik also working for you?”
“No. I did actually date him, and unlike you did with Isac, I always hack my dates to make sure they’re good people. In a heated argument, I blurted out a detail I wasn’t supposed to know. That’s why Simen called me psycho.”
As if time is slowing to help me grasp what she’s saying, I’m still not getting it. “You knew Henrik cheated on you when you asked me to hack him? Was Henrik even on the same road as Isac?”
“Yes. I was about to tell you when Melvin hissed at me, but by then, you’d already seen the date on the messages and wanted me to come back. I knew I’d bought myself one more day to make you change your mind. But we didn’t know what was going on until you found the photo of Isac’s crash. That was when my team texted me to find a way to keep you from killing him. Matching you on Tinder was my first thought, so I ran with it.”
Poisonous cupcakes flash into my memory, and my teeth clench. “I wasn’t planning to kill anyone.”
The Tinder match stopped me.
“Let me get this clear. Your plan to distract me from killing myself was to first convince me to help you get revenge on Henrik. It turned into stopping me from killing him, then seducing him?”
That Cava reduces your mental activity.
“At first, I wanted to see if you’d open up. When you didn’t…it’s not the best I’ve done, I’ll admit that. Like I said, I thought I had more time, but when you got your pills from the fridge, I had to stop you. You have a passion for what you do, so luring you into hacking Henrik was my first instinct. I had no idea he was there when Isac died. I never needed revenge on Henrik, because I didn’t love him. I only used him for sex.”
“Why didn’t you call me? Tell me not to kill myself?”
“I did call you. You didn’t answer. Your mind was made up, and nothing I could have said would have helped.”
Nothing anyone could have said would have stopped me that day.
“I’m glad you never questioned how I got your photos for the Tinder profile the next day.”
It’s as if she has hit me in the gut. She was supposed to be preparing salad and Cava while I hacked into Henrik’s phone. When I found the picture of Isac’s crash on Henrik’s computer, I closed the door because Cecilia was receiving so many text messages. There’s no way she could have located my photos and put together a fake Facebook account and a Tinder profile in that short amount of time, is there? Why didn’t I think of that? “I don’t care what I signed.” I struggle to stay standing as my head buzzes. “This is beyond an invasion of privacy. It’s criminal.”
I need a lawyer.
Cecilia gets her coat but lingers by the door. “We’ll talk later. If you want answers, call. I’m here if you need me.”
Need you? You’ve spied on me, deceived me, and pretended to be my friend for half a year. I never want to see you again.
“Get out.”
When the door shuts behind her, I run to my office and turn the modem off before falling to the floor. My mind is spinning with a thousand thoughts.
I’ve been living a lie. Not only that, but I’ve been surveilled by Whale.
32
It’s still dark outside when I wake up, wrap my robe around my body, and make myself a cup of tea. I turn on my computer as though this is a day like every other day has been for the past six months. I should reach out to my boss, tell him I’m ready to get back to work, but while one part of me feels that’s true, a bigger part knows I’m lying to myself. First things first, though.
Today, Henrik’s activity doesn’t cover my screen. Instead, I turn on my modem and remove Whale’s backdoor access code. When I attended the support group, my mind was preoccupied with grief, and she took advantage of that.
Hacking her support group members? I trusted her. How could she do this to me?
It seemed so erratic too. Barging in, tricking me to date Henrik?
Which reminds me, I have a heart to break.
Although I want to face him and explain every detail of what I’ve put myself through, how I’ve hated him. I want to watch him crumble as I reveal that I know he killed my husband. It has to be perfect. I need a plan.
My fridge is empty when I go to make breakfast except for a note from Henrik saying, “I love you.” The paper cracks as I crunch it up and throw it in the trash.
Serves you right. Now you know how every woman you ever cut contact with and ghosted felt like.
My fingers drum the table while I wait for the clock to speed up. At seven in the morning, I shower, get dressed, and head out to get groceries.
“Daniella, wait,” Henrik calls behind me as I cross the road outside my building. “I have to talk to you.”
You’re stalking me now?
Henrik looks tired with dark circles under his eyes, and I speed up to get away from him.
I’ll put my foot in my mouth if I engage in a convers
ation with him. “No, you don’t. Go home.”
I’m not ready to confront you yet. I don’t have my plan ready. Shoo.
“You can’t avoid me. We have to speak eventually.”
I’ll talk when I’m ready. Not fun to be on the receiving end, is it?
He points to my front door as if deciding I should go back inside with him. “You can at least explain what’s going on.”
It’s simple. You’re a killer and an asshole. You’ve tricked women over and over, involved their families and children. It’s not like you gave Katelyn an honest explanation.
I growl at him, thinking of every message I’ve read from women dying for answers to why he suddenly stopped texting them, why he didn’t want to meet anymore or even acknowledge their existence. “You never explain yourself.”
Shit, shut up.
I’m not fighting over this in the street with slush up to my ankles. I’m not letting him stop me from getting my breakfast, either.
Henrik follows me into the store. “I’ve told you every truth I have.”
I’m not talking about me, you idiot.
I pluck a packet of free-range eggs, an avocado, and half a melon. I whisper at Henrik so as not to alert the cashier, even though it’s really a hoarse screaming. “You’re not this stupid.”
He holds a bag open for me to pack up my groceries as I scan them.
I don’t want your help. Stop being nice to me. Get lost.
I’m too frustrated with him to hold my thoughts back. I can’t tell him I know he killed Isac. Not here, not yet. Especially without a plan and a sense of control.
“Let’s not add even more plastic to this world.” I beep my card and ignore his gesture. Leaving him holding the bag, I walk straight past him back home.
Cecilia has deceived me, and you’ve killed my husband. I need time to calm myself down enough to create a plan.
I rip open my front door, but before it closes, his hand slams flat against it, holding it open. He calls after me. “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on.”
Oh really? You get to force your presence on me now? Katelyn didn’t respond like this. She didn’t emerge at your apartment, screaming for answers. I wish she had. If every woman you hurt showed up at your place, maybe you wouldn’t hurt so many.
Instead, she showed up at mine.
“Why don’t you send me love songs instead.” I climb the stairs and grit my teeth to stop myself from blurting out more details which I’m not supposed to know.
The front door slams shut behind him as he chases after me. “I need answers.”
From the Nerlis’ apartment upstairs, four footsteps make their way down towards us. Mrs. Nerli sounds as if she’s crying. “I don’t want to go today.” She sniffles.
“I know my darling. But it’s all for the better,” Mr. Nerli comforts her.
They both sound grief-stricken, distraught, and knowing I’m the cause I hurry inside my apartment, hoping Henrik will leave when meeting them. Turning the lock as fast as I can behind me, it clicks into the fastened position. I let go, safe and alone in my apartment.
“Who are you?” Mr. Nerli asks Henrik in a shivering voice.
My pulse is pounding as I lean my head against the door to listen closer.
“Daniella’s boyfriend.” Henrik sounds too skeptical to even move.
“But she’s not with you.” Mrs. Nerli’s voice is stern in a way I’ve never heard before. “Please leave our building, young man.”
Although I can’t see them, I know Mr. Nerli is holding his wife’s arm, comforting her.
I have to talk to them and find a way of at least trying to mend what I’ve done.
Henrik grunts something to them, which I can’t make out. The building’s front door closes. I let go of my door when fast steps close in again, and three loud knocks make me jump back.
I shout. “Go away!”
“Don’t be like this. Open the door, Daniella.” He knocks again, gentler this time as if to convince me he’s calm. When I don’t respond, several hard bangs reassure me I need to get my ducks in a row before revealing what I’ve done and what I know.
“Come back at seven tonight. We can talk then.” I’ll have a plan by then.
For the first time since meeting Henrik, he’s angry, banging one more time on the door as if to break it. “You can’t be serious?”
“Seven.” I panic about how I’ll reveal what I’ve done to him, unsure how he’ll react. It might be too much for him to handle, and he’s strong. I need to be prepared. He let a man die, snatched a photo, and I’ve played him for half a year.
He stops banging, and it sounds like he’s leaning on it. “I want to understand this.”
You and every other person who has ever been dumped.
“I’ll explain tonight.” I move further from the door and kick my shoes off.
Mr. Nerli’s strict voice echoes in the hallway. “I really must insist, young man. If not, I’m calling the police.”
Poor Mr. Nerli. Now I’ve even added more drama to their lives.
“I’ll be here at seven.” Henrik’s voice is tense, forced. The door makes a clicking sound as if the pressure from the outside is gone.
I run up to the guest room and connect every phone, camera, and microphone to a charger. No matter what happens when I reveal my actions to him, I’ll record it as evidence.
I check the kitchen drawer for knives in case he snaps and attacks me, and place a meat knife on top of the others for easy access. But I need help.
I grab my coat and make sure the coast is clear outside my apartment building before getting my car. I park outside Cecilia’s building, run through the archway, and ring the doorbell.
From the intercom, her cheery voice answers. “Yes? Who is it?”
“Daniella. Let me in.”
As if she’s hung up the phone, the static sound from the speaker on the wall turns dead quiet.
“Cecilia? Open the goddamn door.” I bang on the front door. It buzzes open, and I run into a male couple on their way out with a small dog. “Sorry.” I dart between them and up the stairs to Cecilia’s door and rip it open. This time it’s my turn to show up uninvited.
I scan the kitchen and living room, but she isn’t there. A turned lock gets my attention from the room I couldn’t enter the last time I was here—her so-called office.
It’s locked, but sounds from the other side inform me she’s in there. “Cecilia, open the door.” I bang on it to show her I’m serious. “I’m not leaving until you do.”
“I’m here.” Her voice is behind me.
I turn around. She’s wearing a black suit and an apologetic smile, holding a key in her hand. “Let’s take a walk.”
“I’m not leaving.” I turn back towards the office door. “If you’re here, who’s in there?”
“Fredrik.” She gestures for me to follow her to the dining table.
Her date? What is he doing locked in there?
Cecilia’s necklace in the photo of her and her sister stops my thoughts about Fredrik. “W, for Whale?”
“It was Pip’s nickname for me.” Cecilia pulls out a chair and sits in front of a document that appears to be about a hundred pages long, held together by a large clip. She slides it across the table to an empty chair. “Sit.”
Too angry to listen, my feet are heavy as I make my way to the table and lift the pages. “I don’t care if I signed this.” I reread her company’s name. The Pequod Group. How many hints have I overlooked? It’s like she’s held up a neon sign telling me she’s Whale.
“Moby Dick?” I flip it over to find my signature on the last page. “I don’t care that I signed this, there’s no way this is legal.” I throw it back on the table. She picks it up, flipping through pages. She stops and holds it up to me.
“It’s a gray area, but similar to employees who sign workplace monitoring contracts, you gave us permission. Read section three.”
The text she refers to
is on page thirteen: ‘I further realize that my signature to this document enables The Pequod Group to take all measures they see fit to ensure my safety including surveillance of online activity, cameras, and microphones planted in the client’s home, car, GPS….’
Folding the page over, there’s even a section where I’ve confirmed never to take legal action.
Shit.
“You planted a plant.” I’m frustrated by the irony.
Planted a plant. Jesus.
“What else did you use to watch me?”
“Microphones and a few cameras. I’ve turned them off, but they’re still there.”
“No wonder you always popped up at my apartment with perfect timing.” Pulling a chair out, I glance back at the photo wall filled with portraits of Cecilia and other people. No matter what she’s done to me, I’ve given up too much to punish Henrik. He’s responsible for Isac’s death and must pay for that.
“I need you to turn them on again. Henrik’s coming over at seven, and I don’t know how he’ll react to me revealing the truth.”
“Are you sure you want to tell him? Hurting him won’t bring Isac back.” Cecilia glances over at the locked door in the hallway.
My mind answers yes and no at the same time.
“Why do you care? This is just a game to you,” I say.
“Why do you think I monitored you? Showed up at your apartment in the middle of the night to stop you from killing yourself? Because I didn’t care?” She stares at me in disbelief before she walks over and opens the locked door.
I’m lost for words at the sight inside. In front of a desk with ten screens mounted on the wall above is Fredrik.
He kisses Cecilia and walks out. On the wall next to the monitors are words written on the wall in black, like a shrine. ‘I failed you. I’m sorry. Never again.’ Underneath are two frames. One newspaper article with a photo of a girl’s room with blood covering the wall. I read, ‘sister finds suicide…rifle from father’s gun safe…’ before I look at the second frame. It’s a picture of Cecilia’s sister, Pip.
Cecilia closes the office door and walks back to the table. This time, I sit with her and glance at the photos of her, smiling and laughing at her sister.
He's got it coming: Love is the best revenge Page 25