by Alana Terry
“You don’t know him, Alexa. This all happened after you met him. I cannot afford to trust him yet.”
“I just can’t believe—”
“Look, I want to trust him. I do. My brother is infatuated with his daughter. It’s just my job not to ignore that the timing is bad.”
Alexa snapped. “Well, I’m sorry you feel like that, but I’m going. I will be a good girl and check in when I get there, before I leave, and when I get home, but I am going.”
“Feelings have nothing to do with this. This is about not ignoring the facts because they are unlikely or because you are attracted to who they are attached to.”
Her heart softened. “Friday...”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
NOLAN BURKE WIPED HIS feet on the mat. The door opened, and a woman from another century casually welcomed him into her home as naturally as if he wore spats and a handlebar moustache rather than his chinos and work polo. “Good morning, Mr. Burke. Do you like coffee? Sugar, cream?”
“Nolan is fine, and I prefer black coffee.”
“How are you Wes’ friend? I’m surrounded by men who like to assault innocent coffee with liquid and granulated ammo.”
Nolan laughed. “I feel your pain.” He hooked up her laptop to the network storage device and began searching for some sort of anomaly.
She brought him a cup and grabbed a shawl, carrying in several loads of wood, placing them in a wood box. He felt rude not offering to help, but she had hired him to do computer work. After the third trip, he had to ask. “Can I help you with that?”
Alexa laughed and shook her skirts free of woodchips, sweeping them up with a small brush and dustpan beside the stove. “No thanks. I have it.”
He’d forgotten her predilection for period clothing. She looked as if she’d stepped off of a BBC movie set. He tried not to stare, but there was something appealing—as if drawing his eyes to her as she moved around the room.
“I don’t know what Wes thinks you’ll find. The police ran tests on it, or something like that, and didn’t find anything.”
“Well,” Nolan explained, “unless they had someone with extensive experience looking for backdoors and unnecessary hardware, I don’t think they’d find what Wes and I think is here. This could take a long time.”
Alexa nodded and moved to the door. “I see Officer Freidan is here. He wants to meet you. They’re being very cautious of me.”
“It’s true, then. “Someone is really copying your murders?” Nolan closed his eyes, feeling stupid. Of course, it was true. They didn’t hire people to search computers because something terrible wasn’t happening. “I’m sorry. Dumb question. I’ll be praying for you.”
“Thank you.”
Alexa hurried down the steps and met Joe at his car door, waiting for him to finish writing something. “A ticket?”
“A report and a call to the truant officer. Ryder Hudson again.”
Alexa stepped back to give him room to open his door. “I didn’t know Fairbury had a truancy officer!”
“Chief Varney,” Joe grinned. “He calls them and their parents into his office, reads them the riot act, and scares the kids out of their wits. It works—usually.” He nodded at the house. “He’s here?”
Alexa rolled her eyes and tugged at his sleeve. “He’s here. Come in and meet him. I’ll make you some hot milk.”
“I don’t like hot milk.”
With a playful whack at his arm, she skipped up the steps to the door and opened it. “Could have fooled me. Come in and introduce yourself.”
She listened as Joe attempted not to interrogate Nolan while she made him a cup of coffee-flavored hot milk, refilled Nolan’s cup, and sliced a plate of fruit. “If I can get you anything else, please ask.”
Nolan glanced at the plate and smiled. “That reminds me. I brought you something.” He typed something into the computer and then hurried outside to his car. Moments later, he presented her with a cheesecake from Crumpets—Rockland’s best bakery. “You said I made you lose one, so...”
“Thank you!” Alexa carried the cheesecake to her refrigerator and made room for it on the shelf. She’d send some with Joe to share with everyone at the station.
“Ok, Alexa, I’m ready to ask you some questions.” Nolan waited for her to arrive and then began. “Can you walk me through a normal day’s writing session? Exactly what do you usually do, and is there a particular order?”
She described logging onto the computer when she awoke, checking email, and updating her website once a week. “I used to write on a desktop until I got my laptop. Then I used it until I had a crash a couple of years ago—wiped out my entire manuscript. I literally had to start over—all my notes. Everything.”
“You didn’t make a backup?”
Alexa nodded. “I thought I did. I mean, I had two hard drives and copied files over once a week religiously. They crashed simultaneously.”
Joe looked interested now. “Power surge?”
“Well, I thought so. I was having my porch enclosed to make the mudroom and just assumed that they’d overloaded the circuit, blown a fuse, or whatever you do with the switchbox—can’t think what it’s called now.”
Nolan nodded. “That could happen.”
“But it didn’t. He wasn’t using any tools at the time. I went out there and the box was fine. Guy was just measuring boards. I remember hearing him mutter, ‘measure twice and cut once.’”
Nolan examined the setup and motioned for her to continue. Alexa pointed to the external storage device. “After that, I got the external and I back up onto CDs every month. Until then, both hard drives in my laptop have copies and I copy everything onto the desktop and onto my web server. Everything I want to research when I’m not home and everything I write, I send to my email. The email saves a copy of all the emails on that server box too.”
“Isn’t that kind of excessive?” Joe looked confused.
Nolan answered for her. “Not at all. It’s a good setup. You try writing thirty, forty, sixty thousand words and lose them and all the research you did to write them and see what you decide is or isn’t excessive.”
Alexa laughed. “Exactly. I tried to get them to make it so the computer would automatically burn a CD every night at midnight or something, but they said it can’t be done—not in a home system.”
“No, it can’t—not affordably anyway.”
“I didn’t say anything about affordable. Can you let me know how to have that taken care of?”
Nolan assured her he could. “Now tell me; who did your setup?”
“Lynn Graves over at Computing Concepts in Rockland.”
Joe nodded. “We talked to her, but whatever she told Martinez satisfied him. He’s kind of dense in some areas, but he knows his computer stuff.”
“I think you should have another chat with her. I don’t think I’m being premature to say that your system is definitely compromised. I can’t prove it yet, but now that I think I know what happened, I can find it faster. It’ll take some time, and I have to be honest, it’ll be expensive.”
Cop and author threw questions at him, one after another, on how someone could copy the information from outside the house. Once Joe understood that this was likely how the murderer got his information, Joe left. Alexa stared at the door, stunned. “So, he’s off to question Lynn Graves...” She turned back to Nolan. “Once you find this, and disable it of course, everything will be over, won’t it?”
Regret filling his eyes, Nolan shook his head. “Only if you prove you’ve found who receives the data. Otherwise, I think it’ll only get worse rather than better.”
ALEXA GLANCED AT THE clock, panicked. She was going to be late. She hurried out to her car and dialed Joe in the process. “Joe? Hey, I’m on my way. I’ll call when I get there.”
“Thanks. I know you think this is silly, but now that we might have a suspect in Rockland, I want to be extra cautious. Going to Rockland now—?”
“I understand. Really—and I do appreciate it.” She saw him approach. “Hey! There you are!” Alexa waved at Joe as she turned toward the highway and he drove past toward the center of town.
“So, what are you wearing?”
“What?” She hadn’t expected that question.
“What are you wearing? My mom always asks about your clothes, so give me something to tell her. She hasn’t stopped talking about the one you wore to our house, and she’s accusing me of brushing her off.”
“Were you?” Silence gave her the only answer. “I’m wearing pink. Tell her it’s the color of the inside of a conch shell and made of the softest wool challis you’ve ever felt.”
“Soft wool. Sure.”
“Seriously. Good wool is wonderful.” She sighed. “Oh, and if you can remember details enough, tell her it has beadwork on the bodice. That ought to keep you out of the doghouse for a while.”
Joe cleared his throat. “And your hat?”
“I’m not wearing one, why?”
“I just thought you always wore hats.”
She smiled at the idea. “You have a short memory—oh, tunnel ahead. I’d better go before I lose reception.”
AT DINNER, TOPICS OF discussion ranged from Lorie’s illness and current good health to their new apartment building. The explosion both avoided as if under silent agreement that it was simply off limits. As expected, eventually the conversation turned to her clothing, and in one of her rare moments, Alexa found it wearisome.
“What inspired your unique sense of style?”
“Is that unique as in rare or unique as in crazy?” She punctuated the question with a smile to assure him that he hadn’t offended her.
Until their meals arrived, they discussed the merits and demerits of a lifestyle as a slave to her own personal fashion sense. Alexa chose to use the pause in conversation to shift topics. “We’ve exhausted my wardrobe peculiarities, don’t you think? Why don’t you tell me what you do and what you are being trained to do in Rockland?”
“Actually, I’m here to give the seminar. “I’m training InoSys Corp in how to use the new networking system that they purchased from our company.”
“It must be involved to take a week of seminars...”
“Well, each person only attends for a day, but a company the size of InoSys can’t afford to send out all their employees for a whole day, so they send them in batches.”
“And what does your system do?” Alexa’s heart rate threatened to race at the mere mention of the words “networking system.”
“Well, to put it in its simplest terms, it is a one-step process to access any computer on the network from anywhere in the world. Of course, only the CEOs would have that capability, but if data is not properly stored...”
“It cannot be received in its entirety,” she finished.
Alexa forced herself to relax. It was impossible that the man she met at one o’clock one fall afternoon had arranged beforehand to hack her computer and have someone ready to kill at a moment’s notice. The classic mystery trio was minus a duet. Yes, he had means, but without motive or opportunity, the entire idea was ludicrous.
“Alexa? So, what do you think?”
She took a sip of water before smiling. “I’m sorry. I was trying to imagine how your system worked and missed the question.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment to the system. I just asked what your opinion of Jeremy and Lorie is.”
“You’re not sure about your little girl having another man in her life?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not that. She’s had so little fun over the past three years that I’m actually pleased she’s found a boyfriend. I just wonder what you think about them—as a them. He’s a nice kid—treats her well. She says he hasn’t tried to kiss her, and I think she’s a little disappointed.” Darrin winked. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
“I think she’s as good for him as he is for her. He needed the kind of steadiness she offered. She had the good sense to be herself, and I think that is what made Jeremy relax and take the time to get to know her.”
The waiter brought a dessert cart. Alexa chose tiramisu but Darrin waved it off, asking for coffee instead. “She told me about your lesson with the mirror. It made a big impact on her.”
“I think I just smoothed a blip. Lorie has a natural ease with people—in her element when making others comfortable. She was uncharacteristically nervous about meeting him. I think she’d built up the idea that if they didn’t like each other, the evening would be awful or something.”
She took a bite of her dessert and gave a small moan of pleasure. “Hand me your fork. You really need to taste this.”
Darrin took the bite she offered, agreeing it was delicious, but he brought the subject back to Lorie immediately. “You were saying?”
“I just think Lorie would have risen to the occasion—even if she didn’t like it. She’d have taken a moment or two and maybe had a mini meltdown. But once she shook that off, she would have realized that it was only a dance and her life didn’t hinge on hitting it off with a strange guy. She would have made the best of things.”
Darrin nodded as he considered her words. After a few seconds, he smiled. “Is your coat warm?”
“Yes, why?”
“Do you feel up to a walk? I want to see this fountain I’ve heard so much about.”
“I’d love that.” Alexa stood.
Darrin caught sight of her shoes and shook his head. “You can’t possibly walk four blocks in those. Maybe tomorrow night.”
“Actually, it’s ten blocks—five there and five back. I assure you that my shoes will be much more comfortable than yours will.”
“Is that a challenge?”
She accepted his proffered arm. “Do you honestly think it isn’t
“—HE’S HERE TRAINING employees for some corporation—InoSys I think—on how to use their new networking system that his company sells. What—”
Nolan tried to ignore the phone conversation as he scanned the pages of computer code. He marked occasional anomalies, shaking his head as he realized that he still hadn’t found any spyware. The moment Alexa said “bye” to the person on the other end of the line, he sought her out in her kitchen.
“Alexa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help overhearing you mention network systems.”
“I went out with a friend last night and discovered that he works for a company that designs systems to do something similar to what someone did to mine.”
Nolan shook his head. “I doubt that they’re as similar as you think. Will you be seeing him again soon?”
“We’re going to see Phantom tonight, but he leaves on Friday—there isn’t much time to learn anything.”
“Where is he going?” Perhaps Alexa’s concerns weren’t unjustified.
“Home—he lives in Chicago. He’s just here to give training seminars to the people over at InoSys Corp.”
An idea took root in Nolan’s mind. “And you’re going to Phantom tonight...” He considered and then offered a suggestion. “Ok, this is slightly dishonest, but I don’t think it’s wrong. If you can try to convince him to get cheesecake at Crumpets, I’ll be there and ‘run into you.’ You introduce me, I’ll ask what brings him to Rockland, and see if we can ‘talk shop’ enough for me to see what he knows.”
AS THE CAST WOVE THEIR way through the caverns beneath the opera house, Alexa lost herself in the play. The minutes ticked past as the crowd searched for the Phantom, and Darrin, seeing her gripping the arm of her seat and wadding her skirt with her other hand, gently unclenched her fingers and wrapped his hand around them. “You’ll destroy that dress,” he whispered as Alexa dragged her eyes from the stage, trying to reconnect with reality.
A glance at her skirt made Alexa cringe. Velvet couldn’t withstand the rigors of tense twisting and scrunching. The world of the stage slowly pulled her back from her dress, the hand that she would probably mangle,
and the kind man who offered it as a substitutionary sacrifice.
When the house lights glowed brightly once more, Alexa turned to Darrin with a sigh. “It takes such incredible talent to create characters like that—and the dedication to become that character! More than anything, it takes something I can’t even name to be able to take that talent and dedication and create something so enchanting that an audience can lose themselves in the imaginary world acted out before their eyes.”
Darrin smiled down at her as he led her toward the aisle. “I think you are more than a writer—you have something of a poet in you. Let’s get some fresh air.”
“I firmly believe we’re all poets in some fashion or another. Some write, others speak. You’ll find poetry in music, decorating, and the way a mother caresses her baby’s cheek. How we each express our poetry—that is what makes us all individuals.”
“Don’t tell that to Miss Pritchard—my junior year lit teacher. She’d skin you alive for deviating from classical definitions.”
At the coatroom, Alexa released Darrin’s hand to put on her cloak. She fought embarrassment at the realization that she’d continued to hold it as they wove their way to the attendees and waited in line. The smile on Darrin’s face as he helped her into the cloak told her he hadn’t minded. Something about that felt just marvelous.
“Thank you. What do you say we take another walk? I want to share my favorite bakery with you.”
“They’ll be open this late?”
“Definitely—open till midnight. They’ve tried earlier hours, but the demand is too great.”
Darrin led her to the doors, his hand protectively on her back as he steered her around chatting couples and a group of teenagers who talked too loud and used the word “like” as though it was a punctuation mark. “There you are, Miss Hartfield. The future of America is like wicked cool.”
“Now I know where she gets it!” The cold night air sent an initial shiver through Alexa.
“Where who gets what?”
“Where Lorie learned to be so articulate. I told her that first day that I met her that I thought she was remarkably articulate for her age.” Alexa pointed to the left. “We go that way.”