by Rachel Ford
Still, it was not a long-lived moment of satisfaction. No sooner than had he sat down did he glance around, just to make sure no visitors from the future had materialized behind him. Then, he sighed.
The entire situation was insane. Heck, I probably am a little insane for going along with Josh’s crazy plan. He frowned. No, he was definitely insane for going along with it. It wasn’t a question of if’s, but rather a matter of degrees.
How nuts does a guy have to be to ask his girlfriend’s ex to secretly stalk her?
Pretty nuts. Obviously.
He sighed. He wished he knew what to do. He wished he could ask Nance. Of course, that was exactly what he was trying to avoid. But, still, there was no one’s advice he trusted more. Fudge muffins. What a mess.
And even with the marine on the case, how was he supposed to go about figuring out who wanted Nancy dead without bringing the assassin’s wrath on her?
If Caspersen would let him see who had access to the access logs, that might tell him what he needed to know: whoever was targeting Nancy had to know what was in the file that she’d accessed. If he could figure out who had accessed the access logs, he’d have a list of suspects – with no danger to Nance. Unless, of course, there are access logs for the access logs. Then the perp – whoever he was – might still figure out he was being watched.
His brain hurt just thinking about that. Tech people, he thought, were bureaucrats at heart – bureaucrats in geeky t-shirts instead of suits.
Still, the mental detour had convinced him of one thing: whoever it was had to work for the IRS. He was surprised that it hadn’t occurred to him before. It was, though, the only thing that made sense: for someone to know whenever the file was accessed, they would need access to the internal network. That meant a hacker, or a mole. And as hard as it was for the taxman to envision an officer of the law, a public servant devoted to the cause of common good, betraying his calling, a hacker was even more outlandish. Nothing, he knew, was ever entirely secure; at least, that’s what Nancy told him, and he trusted her guidance in such matters. But where Uncle Sam’s money was concerned, it was about as secure as anything could possibly be.
So he instinctively felt that hackers were not the answer. A mole, then, it must be.
This was definitely insult to injury in Alfred’s eyes. A tax cheat so particularly vile as to kill to protect his assets was loathsome indeed. But to hide that loathsomeness in the guise of a servant of the public good? If ever he heard a more fitting use for the phrase “wolf in sheep’s clothing,” he could not recall it.
And that this was not an exercise in the theoretical, but a real-life scenario, where Nance’s life hung in the balance, made it all the more terrifying.
Part of him wanted to simply walk away now that Nance was in the clear. But the fact was, he couldn’t know for sure that she was in the clear. Even if, this time, she escaped, what happened if she stumbled onto something that implicated the killer in a week, or a month, or a year? They’d be back at square one, all over again.
No, Alfred Favero could not let fear win. He had to find the assassin and tax cheat, and bring him to justice. He had to do it without getting Nancy involved. And he had to do it as quickly as possible.
Sugar cookies, he thought, considering the task he’d assigned himself. This is not going to be easy.
His mind was still full of the case, and how he could possibly find the killer before he killed, when lunchtime rolled around. Added to that was the fact that he couldn’t help but wonder if Josh was around, somewhere, staking the place out. Nance picked up his unease within five minutes. “Babe, what’s the matter?”
Damn, she’s perceptive. “Nothing.”
She pulled a face. “Come on. You’re never this quiet.”
Despite himself, he grinned at her teasing tones. “I just can’t get a word in edgewise, with all this talk about comic books,” he shot back.
“Well someone’s got to keep the conversation going.” She smiled at him, reaching across the table to take his hand. “But seriously, babe: what’s wrong?”
He sighed. “It’s nothing much. Just…” His mind raced. “Dealing with Justin.”
“Ah.” She nodded understandingly. “What’s he up to now?”
“Well, it started with comments about us carpooling. Apparently he noticed.”
She laughed. “Of course he did.”
“And he keeps…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
She scrutinized him for a moment. “It does. It’s bugging you. Come on, spit it out.”
He sighed. “He’s always got stuff to say, about you. How I shouldn’t ‘let’ you be friends with Josh, and –”
“Wait, what?”
“I know.”
“He really said that, though?”
“Yeah.” Alfred took the opportunity – before Justin did – to mention Josh’s visit. That had been another thing weighing on his mind. Sooner or later, someone at the office would mention it to Nance. “Josh stopped by to drop off your key fob.”
“He did?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t get paged.”
“No,” Alfred lied. “I happened to be passing the lobby, and saw him before he checked in.”
“Ah. So that’s what set Justin off, though?”
“Yeah.
“Well, he’s a prick. And he sounds like a controlling prick at that. No wonder his wife got the hell away from him.”
The taxman felt one part relieved and one part guilty. He’d steered the conversation in exactly the direction he wanted: Nancy was no longer mystified by his mood, and he’d preemptively explained Josh’s visit. But he’d done it by lying, or as good as, to her. And though necessary, he couldn’t stand the idea. “He is,” he said, trying not to focus on his guilt. “I just about told him off.”
She smiled. “Really?”
“Well,” he shrugged, “I kind of did, actually.” He recalled his words to Justin, and the way the other man had slammed his door at the sight of him earlier.
She laughed out loud. “Holy shit. I wish I had been there to see the look on his face.”
Alfred grinned. “It was pretty good,” he said.
There was another benefit to half-leveling with Nance. That was that when they returned, she walked with him to his office. Throwing her usual discretion to the wind – quite deliberately, he was convinced by the twinkle in her eye – she kissed him, long and tenderly, before he stepped inside.
They were rewarded for their efforts by Justin’s door slamming shut, a second time that day.
Alfred didn’t touch the audit that afternoon. He still hadn’t figured out how to do it safely, and so he felt it was better to hold off than to risk harm to Nance.
He got a text the next morning from Josh. “About that interview…it’s at three again. Can you take over, or should I cancel?”
“I’ve got it,” he wrote back. Knowing that the marine would not be on the job, he didn’t dare touch the file. So he focused on his assignments, and turned his mind again and again to the problem. The former was a more successful use of his time. He didn’t make great headway on his project work, but at least he made some. When it came to unmasking the killer, though, he was still drawing blanks.
So he focused on their preparations for MarvelousCon. This was made the easier because it was just about the only thing on Nancy’s mind. “I got the shipping notification. Your uniform is on its way.”
“Oh, great.”
“Yeah. We should have it by Tuesday.”
“And you got yours already?”
“Like, four years ago,” she grinned, and he felt silly for asking.
“Of course you did, Nance.”
“We should head to my place on the way home, actually.”
Alfred frowned. He couldn’t forget that her place was – in a timeline that had almost come to be – the scene of her murder. “Why?”
“To pick up the props.”
; “What props?”
“All of them. The badges, tricorder, phasers – everything.”
They were in the breakroom, and both cringed as of one volition as Justin and another coworker, Andy Brecht, walked in.
“Well,” Justin was saying, rather loudly, “I’m heading out soon.”
“Too much of a good thing, eh?” Andy laughed.
“Oh, no. I’ve got to get ready for my date.”
“Ah. That Stacey you had mentioned?”
“Yeah,” Lyon nodded. “You don’t leave a woman like that waiting.”
Nancy and he exchanged glances, rolling their eyes. Justin continued, “It’s been a long week, though. Nothing like a hot date to end it on a high note.”
This was too much for Nance, who snorted and whispered, “Hot date? Yeah, with his hand.”
It took Alfred a moment to take her meaning, and when he did, he laughed out loud, a little scandalized and a lot amused.
His outburst of amusement, though, drew the other men’s eyes. Andy nodded a greeting. “Hey Nancy, Alfred.”
Justin scowled at them suspiciously. Then, though, he said, “Hey Freddo, what’s this I hear about you playing dress up at some geek festival?”
“Geek festival?” Andy wondered.
“It’s called cosplay,” Nancy corrected. To Andy, she added, “We’re going to MarvelousCon.”
“Cool,” he said.
Justin continued addressing Alfred. “You wear, like, makeup and stuff, right? Didn’t realize you were into that kind of thing.”
“There’s a little more to it than that,” the taxman answered superciliously.
Justin shrugged. “Whatever, dude. I mean, no judgment here. Whatever makes you happy.” Then, with a sneer that absolutely belied his claim of not judging, he turned back to Andy. “Anyway, what I was telling you about Stacey…”
Chapter Eight
The weekend came and went without incident. Nancy’s excitement for MarvelousCon was mounting. Alfred wasn’t sure he’d make it through a three-day-week if he had to hear another word about costumes and calendars.
She had an entire schedule of events that spanned pages. They’d gone through it multiple times, and she still hadn’t made up her mind about which sessions she was attending.
As for himself, the answer was simple: whatever she was attending. Literally none of it appealed to him, so he had no preference. What would he care, after all, if they spent their time at a panel on alien makeup featuring artists behind five different television shows – all of which Nancy knew – or if they went to the session on superhero costume design? Neither interested him in the slightest.
“You’re no help,” Nance would sigh when he conveyed something of this. “How am I supposed to get a schedule together?”
“We could just wing it,” he offered.
“Then we’ll miss something.”
“What a shame that would be.”
The schedule was still unresolved when the workweek began. “But at least we’re closer,” she confided Monday morning.
“Good. I don’t know if I could survive too much more of this suspense,” he teased.
She grinned. “Don’t worry. We still have to sort out backup sessions. You know, in case our first choices are full.”
Alfred just groaned.
Monday did bring two bits of good news, though. Both came via texts from Josh Stevenson, and both were received with more enthusiasm from Nancy than Alfred. The first was that Josh’s car was finally finished.
“Great.” The taxman rolled his eyes. “Now that that thing’s more souped up, he’ll drive like even more of a maniac.”
The second was a follow up from the interview. “He got the job!”
Alfred didn’t hear this as excitedly as she did, though. How, he wondered, would this impact the marine’s plans to guard Nancy? “When does he start?”
“Two weeks.”
The taxman frowned. He hadn’t thought of the case over the weekend – at least, he’d made a conscious effort not to, since there wasn’t much he could do about it until he was back at the office. But this gave him a deadline. It meant he had to have it wrapped up before Josh’s new gig started.
“Hey,” she continued, “we should stop and get my car tonight, after work.”
He nodded. “Okay. But…”
“Yeah?”
“Well, you don’t have to use it, you know. I’m kind of liking this carpooling.”
She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Me too, Mr. Favero. Me too.”
Alfred was in his office before Justin Lyon, and he took the opportunity to shut the door. Texting Nancy a picture of his closed door, he said, “My plan to get some actual work done this morning. Hopefully that’s hint enough for you-know-who.”
She wrote back, “He casts ‘ward off wanker’ and rolls a twenty.”
He didn’t fully understand the reference, but he got the gist anyway, and smiled at Nance’s wit. Then, he turned in earnest to his work.
He brought up the directory with the audit files. He stared at them for a space. But he didn’t dare open them. He knew what happened when he did that; the version of himself that had visited Josh made that clear.
So what the heck am I supposed to do? he wondered.
An hour and a half passed in fruitless contemplation. Then, his phone dinged with a text from Nance. “Hey, meet me in the breakroom.”
It didn’t come a moment too soon. He was in desperate need of distraction. Since he had no idea what he was actually headed to the breakroom for, though, he grabbed his coffee mug, opened his door, and was on his way.
He ignored the “Freddie?” that followed him from Justin’s office. In fact, it gave haste to his steps.
Nance was there by the coffee machines, and she grinned as he approached. “Guess what?”
“What?”
She held up her phone, a screen with text and a progress bar displayed. He scrutinized the words. It was a delivery progress report.
“Uh…what is that?”
“Your uniform! Look: it’s arriving early.”
“Oh.” The revelation certainly didn’t justify her level of excitement, but there was nonetheless something infectious to her good mood. He felt the annoyance of the morning and its fruitless contemplations slipping away. “That’s good.”
“Yeah. It means we’ve got an extra day, in case I need to make any adjustments.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to rush those,” he teased.
“No, we wouldn’t.” She moved a little closer. “We-”
“Morning Freddie.”
Nancy grimaced, and Alfred turned to see Justin ambling into the breakroom. “Morning Justin,” he sighed.
“Morning Nance.”
“Morning Justin.”
“We must be on the same wavelength today.” He laughed in a deliberate fashion, holding up his coffee mug. “Great minds and all that.”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know about you guys, but I am bushed.” He laughed again, and it was even more forced this time. “I need a weekend to recover from the weekend.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy how quickly they disappear,” Nance deadpanned.
“Isn’t that the truth?” he sighed.
“Well,” Alfred said, “I should probably-”
But Justin was not about to let him escape yet. “Stacey and I stayed out way too late – I mean, way too late – last night. Now I’m paying for it. Not that I’m complaining, of course.” He grinned. “But, damn, I’m feeling it today.”
“Well,” the taxman offered, “age catches up to us all, I guess.”
The comment elicited a frown from one of his companions and a smirk from the other. But Justin was quick on his feet. “You two will have to have lunch with us sometime, Freddie. You and Nance. You’ll like Stacey – both of you will.”
“Yeah, sounds great,” Nancy said. Alfred murmured agreement, though it sounded awful to him. Spending time wit
h Justin would be punishment enough, but with him and someone insane enough to date him?
“We met in college, you know. She was a freshman when I was graduating. She was dating someone else then. We both were. But I remember what an authentic kind of person she was, you know?”
“She sounds great,” Nancy smiled.
“She is. She’s one of those real-women types. You know, really in touch with her feminine side. Very traditional.”
“That’s awesome. I better get back to my work, though.”
“Don’t forget your coffee before you go, Nance,” Justin said, gesturing to her empty cup.
“Oh. Yeah.”
“You can always tell when a woman embraces her feminine side. She takes pride in herself.”
Nancy’s eyebrows, Alfred could see, were climbing up her forehead so fast he was afraid she might lose them to her curls in a minute. “Well, we should get going.”
“She just looks the part, you know?” Justin, now, cast a critical eye over Nancy, letting his gaze linger in a pointed way on her jeans and “NASA” t-shirt. “Of course, part of that, I suppose, is probably attributable to outside factors. A woman who has someone worth looking good for will take the time to put in the effort.”
“You didn’t tell me Stacey was deaf,” Alfred said.
Justin scrunched up his face, confused. “Deaf? What? She’s not deaf.”
“Oh. I just assumed. I mean, after listening to you for just a few minutes, I can’t imagine someone listening to you for an entire date and agreeing to a second.”
Confusion made way for a scowl. Nancy, though, smiled, and that was his goal. “Come on, Nance,” he said. “Let’s get back to work.”
Chapter Nine
After a few text exchanges with Nance, mostly questioning the existence of Justin’s date – and sanity, if she existed – Alfred returned his attention to his work. He right-clicked on the file in question, and brought up the revision history. That, at least, he decided, should be safe.
He saw Nancy’s name and a handful of others, none of whom were familiar. He’d jotted the usernames down, and then turned to the employee directory, when his messenger app flashed.