Samantha Sanderson Off the Record

by Robin Caroll

  “What’s the harm?”

  “Number one, it’s illegal and number two, it could infect my computer.”

  Sam let out a loud sigh. “It doesn’t infect the Mac system. If you wanted, you could even come over and use mine.”

  “Sam, that doesn’t stop it from being illegal.”

  “But the cyber unit hasn’t even had time to look at it. It’s just the district’s IT team, and you said you doubted they would want to study a virus.” Sam kept going before Makayla could argue more. “Think about it. Something isn’t right. If the IT team isn’t planning to preserve the virus and figure it out, then what’s the hold up? Why aren’t they restoring the system? If the backup tape is corrupt at the exact time we need it, that’s too much of a coincidence. You’ve gotta admit, Mac, something smells fishy.”

  “Well, it does. You’re right on all counts, but I’m not going to go into the system illegally, for any reason.”

  Sam stopped pacing and gripped her phone tightly. “Come on, Mac.”

  “No, Sam. I’m not budging on this.”

  “No one would ever know.”

  “I’d know, Sam. You’d know. And we both know it’s wrong.”

  Sam flopped down on her bed. No wonder the voice of her conscience sounded remarkably like Mac’s voice. Sam knew her bestie wouldn’t budge. There had to be another way to figure it out. Mom always said, “Real journalists don’t accept closed doors. We find window-ways in.”

  She just had to find the window-way in.

  “Sam, I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay, Mac. I shouldn’t have pushed.” It wasn’t like she could force Makayla to use her genius ninja computer skills.

  Wait a minute . . .

  “What if I could get you permission to go in and look? Would you do it then?”

  “Permission from whom?” Makayla sounded guarded.

  “Either Mrs. Trees or the police?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Well, if they said it was okay, then I don’t see why not.”

  Sam smiled. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll talk to Mrs. Trees tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay. I’ve gotta go. Chloe needs help with her math.” Makayla’s little sister wasn’t as motivated as Mac to get the highest grades possible.

  “See you in the morning.” Sam hung up and closed her eyes.

  She needed to get permission for Mac to get into the grading program for a couple of reasons: if there was no self-destruct, they could restore the grades from the backup. And, if it did, it might even tell them who the virus creator was.

  A window-way in to a scoop of a story. She’d prove she was a good reporter once and for all, even without using her dad as a source.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Wake up, Sam. Wake up!

  Sam rolled over and slid her finger over her cell’s touch screen to turn off the alarm. Chewy jumped up on the bed, wagging her body, doing her little whining thing to get Sam’s full attention.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll let you out.” Sam rolled out of bed and immediately shivered.

  Chewy bounced up and down on her hind legs.

  Sam grinned. “Hang on, girl. Give me a second.” She shoved her feet into her big, fluffy Ugg slippers and wrapped a robe around her fleece-y pajamas, slipping her iPhone into the pocket, then headed down the hall to the kitchen.

  Dad was on his cell as she passed him at the counter. She opened the kitchen door and Chewy shot outside. Sam’s eyes widened. There had to be at least three or four inches of ice and snow covering the ground. She shut the door and pulled out her phone. Shivering against the chill from just the brief moment she’d had the door open, Sam quickly checked the local news station’s site. She let out a whoop as they scrolled through the school closings and she saw the Pulaski County Special School District listed.

  At the sound of Sam’s shout, Dad turned and walked into the dining room. Oops. Sam grimaced, then headed to the fridge to pull out milk and make a cup of hot chocolate. Snow day! This called for whipped cream.

  “Well, keep me updated. Be careful.” Dad walked back into the kitchen. “Love you too. Here’s Sam.” He handed her the phone. “It’s Mom.”

  “Hi, Mom.” Sam pushed her dad’s phone against her ear and smiled. It smelled like the cologne he wore, her favorite.

  “Hey, my girl. Looks like I probably won’t make my flight home this afternoon. Not only is it pretty nasty here in New York, Dad says the flights at the Bill and Hillary Clinton Airport there are all delayed and some already canceled.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “Me too. But at least you get a snow day, right?”

  Sam grinned. “Yep.”

  Chewy barked at the kitchen door. Sam leaned and let the dog back in.

  “Well, you have a good day. I’ll keep you and Dad updated on my travel situation. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Mom. Bye.” Sam tapped END CALL on the screen before handing the iPhone back to Dad.

  “I talked with Captain York. I need to go into the office for a couple of hours, just to make sure everything’s covered in the weather. Once officers show up, I’ll be able to come back home.” Dad poured coffee into his ginormous thermos. “Mrs. Willis is next door if you need anything.”

  “I’m good, Dad. Call me before you head home and I’ll fix us grilled cheese sandwiches and soup for lunch.”

  “Deal.” Dad grinned and kissed the top of her head.

  “And, Dad?”

  “Yeah, pumpkin?”

  “If it’s okay with Makayla’s parents, do you think maybe you could pick her up on your way home for her to come over? Maybe spend the night since I bet they’ll cancel school tomorrow?” She smiled wide and big.

  “I’m pretty sure it’ll be canceled,” Dad chuckled. “It’s fine with me if they say it’s okay.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll call you when I’m leaving the precinct.” Dad grabbed his keys from the wooden bowl in the foyer, then his footsteps echoed down the hall and into the garage.

  Sam pulled out her phone again and dialed Makayla’s cell.

  “Snow day!” Makayla said as soon as she answered. “Isn’t it beautiful? The news said we got about six inches total.”

  “That much? Wow.”

  “I know, right? Chloe’s already done with breakfast so we can get into our snowsuits and get out there.” Makayla giggled. “I think she thinks it’s all going to melt soon.”

  “Six inches? Not hardly.” Sam turned on the speaker so she could use both hands to get the boiling milk out of the microwave. “I bet they’ll cancel school tomorrow too. No way this stuff is gonna be gone by then.”

  “Weather said we’re not going to get over freezing, so I bet we will. We’re also supposed to get some sleet and freezing rain later tonight.”

  That pretty much meant Mom wasn’t going to make it back to Little Rock today. Probably not until later this weekend.

  Sam brought the phone back up to her ear. “Dad had to go in to work this morning, but he’s going to be heading back around lunchtime. He said it’s okay if you come over, and you can spend the night if your parents say it’s okay. He could pick you up on his way home.”

  “That’d be awesome! Let me ask Mom. Hang on.”

  While Sam waited, she stirred her hot chocolate. She pulled the can of whipped cream from the refrigerator and added it until it stood an inch higher than the cup. For good measure, she squirted some in her mouth straight from the can before putting it back in the fridge.

  “I have a few chores I need to do first, but Mom said it’s okay. I can come and spend the night.”

  “Woohoo! I’ll text Dad and let him know. He said he would call before he left the station. We’re gonna have so much fun.”

  “Let me go so I can play with Chloe real quick, then get my chores done. Oh, and pack a bag.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you when Dad’s on his way. Bye.” Sam ended the call, then texted her dad to let him know
he could pick up Makayla on his way home.

  After eating a bowl of cereal and cleaning up the kitchen, Sam took a long hot shower, dressed, and then headed back to the kitchen where she put together a little basket of a couple of cans of soup, some of the chocolates left over from New Year’s, and some packets of apple cider mix. She topped the basket with a ribbon, then put on her snow stuff and headed outside.

  Cold air blasted around her. Despite her careful bundling up, a chill snaked down her spine. She trudged through the snow across the driveway to Mrs. Willis’ yard. Stomping the snow from her boots, Sam rang the doorbell and waited for her neighbor to answer.

  “Why, Sam! Dear, what are you doing out in this wintry weather?” Mrs. Willis opened the door and practically pulled Sam inside.

  “Here. I brought this for you.” Sam thrust the basket at her.

  “For . . . me?” Mrs. Willis smiled and took the basket. “This is lovely, Sam. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She started to feel very warm — almost suffocatingly so. Mrs. Willis sure had her heat turned up high. “Is there anything you need? I can shovel your walk if you need it done.” She didn’t really want to, but she was determined to love her neighbor.

  “Shovel my walk? Whatever for? I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

  “Do you need any food? Milk or eggs or bread?” Sam couldn’t remember if they had extra, but if they didn’t, she could text Dad and he’d pick something up on his way home.

  “I’m good, dear. Thank you though.” She waved toward her couch. “Would you like to come in and sit for a little visit?”

  “I can’t stay, Mrs. Willis.” Sam found it hard to breathe in the stifling heat in just the few minutes she’d been inside. “I just wanted to check on you and bring you the basket.”

  “Well, it was very thoughtful of you. I’m fine. I have plenty of groceries, my butane tank was just filled last week, and I have my police scanner with batteries, so I’m all set.” Mrs. Willis considered it part of her prayer ministry to pray for those involved in what came over the police scanner.

  “Okay then. If you need anything, you just call us, okay?” Sam headed to the door.

  “I will. And you too, dear. If you need anything.”

  Sam nodded, then stepped outside. The arctic air was welcome after being inside the stuffiness of Mrs. Willis’ living room. She made her way back into the garage, then into the house.

  Chewy met her at the door, hopping and prancing.

  Sam laughed. “Okay. We’ll go out back and play. Let me shut the garage door.” She reached over to push the button, then went into the back yard with her dog. They played a rousing game of fetch until Sam felt her feet were freezing.

  Back in the house, Sam dried Chewy off with an old beach towel, shoved her outwear into the dryer and turned it on, then set her boots on top of the dryer. She wanted everything dry and ready for more outdoor play once Makayla got there.

  Her cell rang. Probably Dad. She checked the caller-ID. Not Dad. She answered the call. “Hi, Felicia.” Sam headed toward her bedroom.

  “I thought you were my friend.” Felicia’s voice sounded as hard as it had the first time Sam had heard her in the school office.

  Sam froze. “I am. What’s wrong?”

  “If you’re my friend, why did you tell why I was expelled from my last school?”

  “I didn’t.” Sam’s stomach turned.

  “You didn’t tell anyone? Not a single person?”

  She’d told Makayla, but Mac wouldn’t ever repeat that. “Why do you think I told someone?” Sam’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Well, there were only two people that I know of who knew. Mrs. Trees, who I doubt told any student, and you.” Felicia made a snorting sound. “Shows I shouldn’t trust my own judgment. I thought you were my friend.”

  “I am your friend, Felicia!”

  “Were you just pretending to be my friend so you could get information from me to use? And what, were you scared to use your real name? Maybe little miss editor isn’t as mean as I first thought. Maybe you’re the mean one and she’s just had enough.”

  Aubrey not mean? Not use her real name? This wasn’t making any sense. “Felicia, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Honestly, I haven’t a clue.” But she was tired of being accused of doing something she didn’t do.

  “Honestly . . . that’s rich, considering.”

  “Felicia, you’re going to have to fill me in here because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sam slumped onto her bed.

  “Have you seen the paper’s blog this morning?”

  A sinking feeling set in the pit of Sam’s stomach. How could she have forgotten to check the newspaper’s blog?

  “No.” She’d been so excited about school being canceled and Makayla getting to come over, then checking on Mrs. Willis that she hadn’t even thought about the paper. What did that say about her as a reporter? She moved to her desk.

  “You might want to check it out. If you didn’t write it, and you didn’t tell anyone else, then you tell me how that got posted up.”

  “I’ll call you back.” Sam set down her phone and began to read.

  The weather has closed the schools in PCSSD as well as the district office, but the offices of the Senator Speak are always open for business. After much discovery work, I’ve received further information regarding our report card virus problem.

  This editor has it on good authority that one of our transfer students was expelled from Pulaski Academy for attempted grade tampering. Sound familiar?

  . . . Sound Off, Senators, and leave a comment as to what you think should happen to this student. ~ Aubrey Damas, editor-in-chief, reporting

  No wonder Felicia was furious. Sam would be too. The nerve of Aubrey! What was she up to? Sam swallowed hard. Where had Aubrey gotten the information?

  Felicia said she’d only told Sam. Her records would have it listed, but who had access to those? Mrs. Trees? Mrs. Creegle? Some of the student office workers?

  But how did Aubrey find out today? The school was closed. And no way would Aubrey have had this information before now and not used it. She was too much of a know-it-all to allow for that. No, she’d written the article and posted it as soon as she’d gotten the information about Felicia.

  Especially since Aubrey didn’t like Felicia. Then again, Aubrey didn’t like hardly anyone except herself.

  Sam checked the time of the post. Twenty-eight minutes ago.

  What was going on here? Sam was determined to get to the bottom of it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I have no idea where Aubrey got her information, Dad, so I can’t be sure, but I’m pretty positive no one told her. The only people who know the reasons behind Felicia’s expulsion are Felicia and the office, and I know for a fact that Felicia didn’t tell her, and I’m pretty sure Mrs. Trees didn’t tell her. I bet she stole the information somehow.” Sam sat across the table from him, tearing apart her grilled cheese sandwich.

  “You don’t know that,” Makayla gently admonished. She sat beside Sam, dipping her sandwich into the steaming bowl of tomato soup.

  “No, I don’t know that, but I can’t imagine how else she’d get that information. I mean, school’s closed. I seriously doubt Mrs. Trees called Aubrey to give her this information.” Sam snorted and went to stirring her soup. She just couldn’t concentrate with that article hovering over her head. “Even though she doesn’t use Felicia’s name, people have guessed. I imagine her mom is more than a little upset.”

  “And Felicia never told Aubrey?” Dad asked.

  “Of course not. I emailed Mrs. Pape and told her the whole deal and asked her to pull down the post, but she hasn’t responded. The only people who can remove a post are Mrs. Trees, Mrs. Pape, and Aubrey.” Sam shoved a bite of her torn grilled cheese into her mouth. Even the warm, stringy cheddar didn’t lift her spirits like it usually did.

  Mrs.
Pape probably wouldn’t even check her email today. She was probably out playing in the snow with her little boy who’d turned three just before Christmas.

  “Have you tried to call Aubrey and just ask her where she got her information?” Dad asked. “Maybe explain the situation and ask her to take down the article?”

  Sam stared at him. She took a drink of sweet tea so she wouldn’t choke on the sandwich that suddenly felt like a whole loaf of bread in the back of her throat.

  Dad wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I know you two don’t get along very well, but if you —”

  “Get along well? Dad, she despises me. She goes out of her way to be mean to me.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t blowing it out of proportion?” He slurped another spoonful of soup, raising just one of his eyebrows.

  She turned to her bestie. “Mac, tell him.”

  Makayla nodded and swallowed her last bite. “She’s not exaggerating, Mr. Sanderson. Aubrey does come at Sam pretty harsh most of the time.”

  Sam looked at her dad. “And before you ask, I don’t know why she despises me. I can’t think of a single thing I’ve done to her.” She remembered her thoughts from the other day about Aubrey being hurt. She couldn’t think of any time she’d hurt Aubrey. If she had, it wasn’t intentional, and unless she knew about it, she couldn’t apologize or make it right.

  Although, to be honest, apologizing to Aubrey would probably choke her.

  “If you want to know her source badly enough, I think you’re going to have to just ask her.” Dad took a drink of his sweet tea. The ice cubes rattled as he set the glass back on the table and stared at Sam with that look of his . . . the one that meant you-should-just-do-as-I-suggest. “I can’t think of any other way you’ll find out.”

  “Not that she’ll tell me. Or tell me the truth.” It would be quite the bitter pill to swallow to call Aubrey and ask her for her source. She’d gloat, no doubt. Probably tell everybody how she scooped Sam on her own story and then Sam crawled to her to find out who her source was.

  Sam shivered at the thought.

  “Maybe Mrs. Pape will answer your email,” Makayla offered.