by Lynn Ames
“He discovered the way the hacker got in and out without being detected and the hacker signed his work with a moniker—sort of like a graffiti artist tags his art.”
“So we have him?” Kate asked.
“Not exactly.” Lorraine finished putting the dishes in the dishwasher and sat back down.
“We don’t know who the signature belongs to yet,” Peter said. “Sabastien had never heard of him before.”
“What was the name?” Jay asked.
“The Black Knight.”
“As in a knight in shining armor kind of knight,” Lorraine added. “Peter, Vaughn, and I have used back channels, but none of our sources have ever heard of him.”
“We’re a little surprised and concerned that Sabastien didn’t recognize the signature,” Peter said. “He’s been in the hacking business for a long time and knows most of the major players.”
“Maybe this person isn’t a major player,” Kate said.
“Not according to Sabastien. This guy is very sophisticated and savvy—definitely a pro.”
“Is it possible he works under more than one name?” Jay asked. “Or maybe it’s a red herring?”
“I suppose anything is possible,” Peter allowed.
“Maybe the nickname isn’t about being a hacker at all,” Kate said. She drummed her fingers on the table.
“Go on.”
“What if—and let’s be clear that I have no idea what I’m talking about here—but what if the nickname isn’t tied to this person’s hacking persona, but is something he calls himself in certain circles?”
“You’re thinking about the kind of code names the Commission uses for its operatives,” Lorraine said.
Kate shrugged. “I think we have to consider them at the top of the list of suspects for the hack, don’t you?” She looked around the table.
“Sabastien did say that the hacker could’ve taken anything, but that he focused solely on the Hyland materials.”
“I rest my case.”
“I don’t know,” Jay said. “Why would the hacker leave something behind for us to find if he didn’t want to get caught?”
Peter held up a finger. “Number one, hackers are arrogant and like to think that even with their signature revealed, they won’t get caught.”
“What about the possibility that it was put there intentionally for us to find to get us chasing our tails?” Jay asked. “I’m not ready to discount the red herring theory.”
“As I said, anything is possible. Number two”—Peter raised a second finger—“The signature was purposeful…”
“That’s what I just said.”
“Easy, half-pint. Let me finish my sentence. The hacker wanted Sabastien to find the signature so that he would be focused on trying to decode the moniker rather than looking deeper into what the hack was all about. In which case, you may be right that the signature is a red herring meant to distract.”
Kate sat forward and rested her elbows on the table. “Even if we do solve this mystery, it doesn’t mean that the hacker isn’t some hired gun.”
“True,” Lorraine agreed. “But once we have a name, we’ll have a better shot at trying to connect the dots and find out who’s behind all this.”
“And that brings us back to square one. Who is the Black Knight?” Peter looked around the table. “So far, I think Kate may have the most likely answer.”
“That the signature isn’t strictly about the hacking? That this is a Commission code name?” Jay asked.
“Yes.”
Jay shook her head. “I don’t agree.”
Kate watched Peter and Lorraine exchange glances. She wondered if the look signified that they recognized the strain between her and Jay.
“Why not?” Lorraine asked.
“I just think the Commission is too sophisticated to make it that easy for us to find.”
“It wasn’t easy,” Peter said. “It took Sabastien almost a week to find it.”
“I’m not convinced.” Jay folded her arms over her chest.
“Well, it doesn’t look like we’re going to solve anything tonight.” Kate yawned and stood.
Lorraine stood up as well. “I’ll check with my contacts on the QT and ask if any of them can check the Black Knight/Commission angle.”
“I’ll keep working on it with Sabastien,” Peter said, getting out of his chair. “I’ll walk you guys to the door.”
Jay rose and gave Lorraine a hug. “Love you.”
“We love you guys too. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Hang in there.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dara removed her sunglasses and glanced around the restaurant. She checked her watch. She was on time, which meant that she was early by Hollywood standards.
“Dara, over here.” George Nelson waved from a corner table.
She picked her way between the tables, acknowledging nods and waves as she went. “Hi, George.” She kissed the director on the cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“You know I’m always happy to see you.”
Like the gentleman she knew him to be, George waited for her to be seated before he resumed his seat. His old-school chivalry was one of the many attributes Dara admired about this man. He was honorable and honest, trustworthy and forthright. That made him a rare commodity here in the land of make-believe.
“To what do I owe the honor?” George asked.
A roguishly handsome waiter hustled over to their table. Dara assumed that he was most likely an actor working on the side, trying to make ends meet.
“Good afternoon. Can I get you folks something to drink?”
“I’ll have an iced tea and the chopped salad with balsamic vinaigrette,” Dara said.
“I’ll have the chef salad and a Coke, please.”
“Very well. I’ll get your drinks right out.”
Dara waited until the waiter was gone. “I need to pick your brain.”
“Okay,” George said. “I’m not sure there’s much there to pick, but I’ll do my best.”
“I know I can trust your discretion, and this one has to be way off the record.”
“Color me intrigued. You have my word.”
“That’s always been good enough for me.” Dara smiled. “Rebecca and I have an idea. We’re not even sure she’ll be interested, but on the off chance she is, we want to have all our ducks in a row before we pitch a proposal.”
“I’m assuming the ‘she’ you mention has a name?” George raised an eyebrow in question.
“She does. In fact, you met her a few weeks ago at the premiere. She’s Jamison Parker.”
“The author.” George nodded. “I’ve read some of her books. Top shelf.”
“Rebecca and I both regard her and her work highly.”
George narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t there some serious controversy about her next novel? Something about hacking and national security breaches and other nasty stuff? Last I saw, the publisher pulled the plug.”
“All true.”
“Here are your drinks. Your salads will be right out.” The waiter set down the beverages and disappeared again.
“There’s a lot more to the story than what’s been covered in the media.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“I’m not going to go into great detail here, but I can tell you this much—I’ve had personal assurances from Jay that she had nothing to do with the national security breach.”
“If you believe her, that’s good enough for me.”
“I do. As I said, all is not what it seems. It’s complicated and ugly.”
“When is anything to do with politics not complicated or ugly?”
“Fair point.”
“Your salads.” The waiter set down their meals. “Fresh ground pepper?”
“Not for me, thanks,” Dara said.
“I’m good,” George added.
When the waiter left them alone again, George said, “What does any of this have to do with you and Rebecca
?”
“You already know that Jay’s publisher left her hanging in the breeze. And you’ve surmised that some pressure is being brought to bear by those in power to keep this novel from seeing the light of day.”
“Government bullying, I presume?”
Dara nodded.
“I hate bullies.”
“Me too.”
“So, you said you wanted to pick my brain. What do you have in mind?” George speared some ham and lettuce on his fork and put it in his mouth.
“Rebecca and I are thinking about trying to convince Jay to bring the work directly to screen and bypass the book publication issue altogether.”
George whistled. “Bold choice.”
Dara took a bite of her salad.
“You haven’t said anything to her yet?”
“No. As I said, we want to do some due diligence before we go to Jay with the idea.”
“Have you read the manuscript?”
“No. But if it’s anything like her other work, I know it will be tailor-made for the big screen. I don’t know why none of her other work has been adapted.”
They focused on eating for a little while.
Eventually, Dara said, “Here’s what I want to know. You’ve worked with Randolph Curtain a bunch of times. Do you think 722 would back the film?”
George briefly stared off into the distance. “I think…” He pursed his lips in thought. “I think it depends. If you’re telling me that the federal government is putting pressure on publishers not to publish the book, it would be a heck of a risk for a film production company to take it on.”
“722 hired me to carry a movie after I came out of the closet.”
“Yes, but you’d just won an Oscar for Best Actress.”
“True. But you and I both know there are still plenty of producers out there who would’ve shied away from me.”
“Would there be a part for you in this script?”
“I have no idea. I hadn’t thought about that. We just want to make sure Jay’s work sees the light of day.”
“Honestly, I don’t know if you could find a major studio to shoulder that kind of risk. There’d be a lot of money at stake.”
“What about putting together an indie company teamed with a consortium of backers to finance it?”
George scrubbed his chin. “Maybe. What would you do, shake the trees for investors?”
“I’d create my own company and put together a syndicate of stakeholders, named or unnamed.”
“Ballsy. You’d need a director.”
Dara smiled at George indulgently, until he finally grinned back.
“I thought that might be where you were headed with this. I’ll read it. If it’s as good as you think it will be, I might be persuaded. Especially if you were going to be part of the on-screen package.”
“I love you, George.” She leaned across the table and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Do you think your author will bite?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Do you think there’s any point to approaching 722 with this? I’d like to keep the whole thing closely held.”
“My two cents?”
Dara nodded.
“Read the manuscript first. Let’s talk after that. If I were placing bets right now, I’d say you’re going to have to go the indie route. And you’re going to need a strong team—folks who aren’t easily intimidated.”
Dara removed her napkin from her lap and folded it on the table. “I’m leery of going to Jay without knowing that I can make something happen.” Almost to herself she added, “I wonder if maybe I should try feeling out her wife about it, first. See what she thinks.”
“Do you know her wife?”
“We’ve met a few times. Her wife is Katherine Kyle. You met her the night of the premiere too.”
“Tall, model-pretty, with long black hair and piercing blue eyes?”
“I see you didn’t notice her.” Dara laughed.
“Not at all.”
“Yes, that’s her.”
“Didn’t she work for President Hyland? She was his press secretary, right?”
“Good memory.”
“Must be a helluva thing, being on the other side of the coin.”
“I hadn’t thought about it that way, but I would guess you’re right.”
“That’s your next step, then? Talk to her?”
“Unless you’ve got a better plan.”
“I’ve got nothing. But know that I’d like to see the manuscript if you get it and if the author will give permission for me to read it.”
“I knew I could count on you, George.”
“We’re not there yet. There’s always the possibility that you’ll read the book and hate it.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.”
Kate looked out the window of the train as it sped toward New York City. The sun glinted off the Hudson River as a few sailboats drifted lazily on the water. The buds on the trees opened to the warmer May temperatures. Spring was finally here.
It’s a great day for a hike. Briefly, Kate wished she were with Jay and Lorraine in the Adirondack Mountains. Instead, she was spending the day with Dara Thomas in the Big Apple.
Dara hadn’t said much in setting up the date—just that she was going to be in New York for a few days, and she would love it if Kate could meet with her. They’d agreed on Carolyn’s midtown Manhattan office as a starting point.
Kate wondered, not for the first time, what it was Dara needed. Maybe she had some pressing public relations questions. But wouldn’t a star as big as Dara Thomas have a PR rep?
It hardly seemed like an entire month had gone by since she and Jay first met Dara and Rebecca at the GLAAD Media Awards. Sabastien was still in hiding; they were no closer to knowing the true identity of the Black Knight; so far, Time was holding publication on any stories resulting from the leaked information; Jay still was having no luck finding a publisher for the book; and things between them… Well, it didn’t bear thinking about that.
Kate was heartsick at the growing distance separating them. Nothing she tried worked. The few times she’d attempted to engage Jay in a conversation about what was happening, Jay had shut down, insisting that nothing was wrong that getting the book published wouldn’t solve. She was just under a lot of pressure.
The truth was, they’d been in tighter spots both together and separately, but Kate could never remember feeling this off-balance.
The train slowed, and Kate realized with a start that they’d reached Penn Station. She checked her phone. There were no messages from Jay.
The address Dara had given her for Carolyn’s office was uptown, so Kate caught the subway headed in that direction. She would find out what Dara had in mind soon enough. As for Jay… That would just have to wait.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Lorraine asked.
“Talk about what?” Jay paused and took in a deep breath. The scent of pine trees and birch bark filled her nostrils. It had been too long since she’d been out hiking. She and Kate loved this time of year in the Adirondacks. The muscles in her gut tightened. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Kate had done anything together either one of them would consider fun.
“Knock, knock. Anybody home?”
Jay blinked and focused on Lorraine. “I don’t know what you’re asking me.”
“Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, my friend. It’s abundantly clear that you’re distracted.”
“Of course I’m distracted. Wouldn’t you be under the circumstances?”
“Let me finish. It isn’t just about the book situation. Peter and I have known you and Kate for thirty years. Both of us are concerned about you two. There’s an obvious tension that we’ve never seen between you before.”
“Everything’s fine.” Jay stuffed her hands into the pockets of her hiking pants and did her best to ignore Lorraine’s penetrating stare.
“You know I’m a trained observer and interrogator, right?”
Jay’s body suffused with heat, and she knew it wasn’t from any hot flash. Anger bubbled up within her. She stopped short and turned on her friend, yanked her hands out of her pockets, and spread them wide to indicate their surroundings. “Is that why we’re out here? So you can ambush me with your theories about what’s wrong in my relationship? Here I thought we were just two friends out for a lovely hike in the woods. I don’t know what makes you think you’re qualified to judge—”
“Whoa, there. Nobody’s judging you, Jay. And this was not some plot to lure you away from home and browbeat you. I am your friend, and I’m worried about you. You and Kate are the most perfect-for-each-other storybook couple I know. You’ve got the kind of soul-deep, loving relationship everyone else longs for. Which is why Peter and I are so concerned.”
“Well, you needn’t be.” Jay started walking again, faster than before. Lorraine kept up easily, a fact that irritated Jay.
Jay told herself that she didn’t care that the silence between them was strained and awkward. Uh-huh. Then she thought about her reaction to Lorraine’s question. “More like overreaction,” she mumbled to herself.
Contrary to what she’d said to Lorraine, she was well-aware that she and Kate were struggling. She just couldn’t put her finger on the root cause and felt incapable at the moment to stop the free fall.
Jay glanced at Lorraine. Her eyes gave nothing away, but Jay could imagine that she was hurt. “I’m sorry.” She put a hand on Lorraine’s arm and then withdrew it. “That was callous and unfair. You were just trying to help.”
“It’s okay, Jay. You’re under no obligation to share anything with me.”
“I… It’s just…” Jay kicked a small rock and sent it skittering off the trail. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what’s wrong. I love Kate as much, or more, than I ever have. She’s my world. She always has been.”
“But?” Lorraine’s voice was soft. Gentle.
“It isn’t so much that there’s a ‘but.’ That’s my truth. Nothing changes that.”
They walked on in silence again. The occasional call of a hawk breached the stillness. “Do you ever feel off-balance sometimes? Like nothing you do is quite right? Like your whole world is off-kilter and you don’t know how to fix it again?”