The Hacker Pushes Her Luck: Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #6

Home > Romance > The Hacker Pushes Her Luck: Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #6 > Page 3
The Hacker Pushes Her Luck: Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #6 Page 3

by Heather Horrocks


  A little old lady looked way up at her and nodded. “They took her into that building,” she said, pointing to the new Council office.

  A man walked out of the office. He was carrying a doctor’s bag. She raised a hand and caught his attention. “Do you know what happened to that poor woman who fell out of the vehicle? I saw her lying there, and it was just terrible.”

  He nodded. “She seems to be all right but has amnesia. Did you see the vehicle?”

  “No. I didn’t. She has amnesia? She doesn’t remember anything?” That was good.

  “No. But she had ID on her. Apparently her name is Jade.”

  Jade cringed internally. That wasn’t so good.

  “Oh, good,” she lied, wanting to strangle Lydia. She smiled instead. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” he said, and walked off, toward the parking lot.

  She hung back, not wanting to have him notice her again. She walked slowly until she saw the doctor drive off, then she strode toward their van.

  This was terrible. Walter Clemmons thought Lydia was Jade.

  How could Jade use that to her advantage?

  As she neared the lot, she smiled. It didn’t matter. She could still get the information she needed off site, just like she’d broken in before. And she’d touched the little witch, so she’d have good luck.

  She and Kelly could grab the witch again when it was time for the actual heist.

  So, Jade would just let this farce play out. The little witch would muddy the waters while Jade would hack in from the outside again.

  Besides, Walter Clemmons scared her a little. He was super smart and he probably had cameras set up around town with things like facial recognition. She’d have to be careful from here on out.

  Later, around eleven that night, Sugar’s eyelids were drooping, but Walter poked her shoulder. “Stay awake, Sugar.”

  She groaned. “I just want to sleep.”

  “I know, but Dr. Johnson said to keep you awake, and after midnight, I’ll still need to wake you up every few hours.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “I’m sorry for being so whiny, but my head is beginning to hurt worse.”

  “It’s time for another pill.” They’d stopped and picked up the painkillers Dr. Johnson had prescribed. For some reason, she didn’t like the idea of taking pills, but in this case she’d make an exception.

  Walter went to get her a pill and a glass of water.

  She was currently sitting comfortably in Walter’s den. It was a lovely, cozy spot. Books surrounded her, and an exquisite antique ivory chess set was on display. He’d brought her an afghan and wrapped it around her. Despite the June heat outside earlier, she was cool now. The afghan was the perfect touch.

  He returned and she swallowed the pill with a gulp of water.

  He sat down across the chessboard from her. “Are you remembering anything yet?”

  “Not really,” she said, then added, “except your neighbor’s cat.”

  “What about the cat?”

  “That white and brown cat when we got here. When I saw it, it was like some memory flickered, but I didn’t really remember anything. It just poked at my head and made it ache more.”

  He nodded. “Everything will come back in a few days.”

  She hoped so. Her head had cleared quite a bit since she’d hit the ground, but she still didn’t remember anything before hitting it.

  Still, that pretty white and brown cat wouldn’t leave her mind. Did that mean she had a cat? A white and brown one? A white one?

  When Walter had driven her to his house and helped her out, the cat had come up to her and meowed, weaving its way around her ankles. That had triggered something.

  “Your website says you’re a chess master. Would you like to play a game?”

  “Okay,” she said, looking at the board. She remembered the names of the pieces, mostly.

  “You go first,” he said.

  She leaned forward and touched the board. Picked up a piece and studied it. “These are exquisite.”

  “Made from walrus ivory, and very old,” he said. “They’re from my childhood.”

  They looked far older than that.

  “I don’t remember how each piece moves.”

  He tipped his head and smiled gently. “We can play checkers if you’d prefer.”

  Carefully, she shook her head and set the pawn back on the board. Then she pushed it out a space.

  He grinned and, oh, her heart fluttered a little. He had a grin that enticed women. He also pushed one of his pawns out.

  Still thinking about the cat, she moved a knight.

  They settled in, taking turns. She didn’t know, in her mind, what move to make, but her fingers seemed to know which way to push the pieces. When she moved her queen, Walter chuckled. “That’s a brilliant move! How’d you catch me by surprise with that one? You’ve just checkmated me. That never happens.” He shook his head. “I can see why you’re a chess master. You’re good. I need to sic you on Ty.”

  “I won?” she asked, delighted. The pain in her head was subsiding and she was apparently good at chess. That was good to know. It had to mean something, right?

  “Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much earlier.”

  He’d had Chinese food delivered, but she’d felt kind of nauseated during dinner. “I am, actually,” she admitted.

  “I’m not that good of a cook, but I can fix you a sandwich.”

  “I’m a good cook,” she said, and then she caught Walter’s eye. “I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”

  He smiled and said, “I told you things would start coming back.”

  “Do you have some eggs and cheese and onions?”

  He nodded. “I think so.”

  “I can fix us a French omelet.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  Later, after she fixed the most delicious omelet Walter remembered ever tasting, she said, “So now I know that my name is Jade Monroe, I can play chess, and I can cook.”

  “And it’s midnight, Sugar. You can go lay down now. I’ll come in to wake you and check on you in a few hours.”

  He showed her to her room, and she settled herself. She changed into some clothes he’d found for her, a big T-shirt and stretchy shorts. If she was going to have a man coming in to wake her up, she wanted to be both comfortable and modest.

  Wanted: Schrödinger’s Cat — Dead And Alive!

  SUGAR HAD NOT SLEPT WELL the night before. Of course, Walter had woken her twice to check her pupils. Finally, at five, he’d declared her safe and told her to sleep as long as she wanted.

  But there was anxiety connected to this whole losing-your-memory thing. Global amnesia is what Dr. Johnson had called it. She’d gone back to sleep about five-thirty and had slept until eight.

  Then she’d found herself waving her hand in front of her face — and actually found that her head felt better after she did. One more thing to add to her list of mysteries.

  She found a towel on the counter in the bathroom directly off her bedroom, and a note: Good morning. I’ve had my friend’s wife bring over some clothes she thought would fit you. I’ll have breakfast ready for you, though you may wish you’d gotten to the kitchen before me. I’m not very good at the cooking thing. Walter.

  She smiled and lifted a pretty yellow sundress. When she got to the lacy underwear — in her size — she was glad a woman had brought them over, but had to wonder — how did he know her size?

  She’d worry about that later — along with everything else.

  The shower woke her, and the clothes perked her up. The yellow lit up her complexion and complemented her dark auburn hair. She checked the side of her head.

  The bump had gone down significantly, and it barely hurt this morning. That was weird, too.

  She left the bedroom and headed toward the kitchen. She found Walter in the adjacent dining room, wearing an apron that declared Chemistry Is Like Cooking — But Make Sure Not To Lick the Spoon.

&
nbsp; She smiled at the handsome man wielding a wooden spoon in one hand and wearing an oven mitt on the other. “Cute,” she said, though perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say to one’s new boss. But it was true.

  “The bump on your head looks like it’s nearly gone.”

  She nodded, which barely hurt today. She motioned toward him. “I like the apron.”

  Walter chuckled. “My friend’s wife, Mara, gave me this. It was about the same time that she told me people shouldn’t lick the spoon on my regular cooking, either.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “If it turns out to be too horrible, I’ll take you out for breakfast. Or order in, if you don’t feel up to going out yet.”

  “I actually feel pretty good today.”

  He breathed out in relief. “Good. I’ve been worried about you.”

  “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

  “You are most welcome, lass. I asked Dr. Johnson to stop by today and check on you again.” He scooped out something from a pan he’d pulled from the oven.

  “How many aprons do you have?”

  “Two. This one and one that says Wanted: Schrödinger's cat — Dead and Alive!”

  “The thought experiment?”

  “I’m impressed with your knowledge.”

  “If not my memory,” she shot back.

  He chuckled. Setting a plate before her at the table, he said, “Breakfast casserole. I texted Mara for the recipe for that, too.”

  He stood back and waited anxiously for her to taste it.

  She laughed. “If you’re that worried, maybe I should request a food taster.”

  He shook it off and laughed with her. “You’re right. Hold on. I’ll get myself some, and I’ll taste it first. If I keel over, go out for takeout.”

  He sat down with another plate. Picking up a forkful of the steaming mixture of egg, potatoes, and sausage, Walter made a mock worried face as he brought it to his lips.

  She laughed again and took her own bite. “This is pretty good.”

  “But not as good as you can do.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe all I know how to cook is omelets.”

  “I doubt that, Sugar.”

  She liked the way that nickname rolled off his tongue.

  They polished off their breakfast. He wouldn’t let her help with the dishes, but they chatted while he did them. He asked questions that she guessed were to help her remember things ... reminding her of things he knew about her, Jade Monroe. Nothing struck a chord.

  After the dishes were washed, Walter studied her. “Do you want to rest now, or do you feel up to going to the office with me?”

  “I’d really like to go in. I’m not sure I’ll remember what to do to help you, but I’d like to give it a try.”

  Walter smiled warily. “Only as long as you feel up to it.”

  “I’m tougher than I look.” Maybe. How could she know that?

  “I’m hoping that putting you in front of a computer will trigger some memories.”

  She went to the bedroom to grab her computer bag — a black one that she thought looked kind of ugly — and she wondered why she’d chosen it.

  Walter carried the bag for her, locked the door behind them, and they both walked out into the warmth of the sun. It felt wonderful on her skin. She put out her hands and absorbed some rays.

  “This probably seems tame compared to your Miami temperatures. Certainly much less humid.”

  “I’m from Miami?” She shook her head. “I wish I could remember.”

  He touched her arm reassuringly. “It will come back.”

  She looked up into his brown eyes and enjoyed the flash of interest she found there. “I hope you’re right.”

  He quirked his lips into a smile. “I’m always right.”

  “Humble, too, apparently,” she teased. She was a teaser. That felt right.

  She heard a meow and spun around.

  The neighbor’s white and brown cat streaked across the lawn and circled her again, meowing. She knelt down and murmured to the creature, who wove in and out of reach, letting her pet its fur and then turning and coming back. She looked up at Walter. “What’s its name?”

  Walter watched, an indulgent look on his face. “It’s a she. And the owners call her Houdinianna because she’s always getting out of their house.”

  “I’ll call you Anna,” she told the cat.

  Standing, she watched the cat weave its way gracefully back to her house.

  A memory prodded at her brain — The cat was in danger!

  “What?” Walter asked, concerned.

  “I—” She trailed off. “I don’t know. I almost remembered something. About a cat. A cat in danger.” She tried to remember, but the more she prodded the memory, the more it eluded her. Finally, she sighed. “It’s gone now.”

  “We have an underground parking space for the new council office,” Walter told Sugar as he parked in a spot right by the door. A sign announced that this parking place was reserved for the SOC Director.

  “You’re the director?” she asked.

  He nodded and said, “Wait right there and I’ll get the door.”

  When he came around, she climbed out. He put out his arm in an old-fashioned gesture and she slipped her hand around his elbow — in a manner that felt totally natural and oh-so-right. As though she belonged on his arm.

  She had a crazy thought. What if she already belonged on some other man’s arm? She wasn’t wearing a ring, and she couldn’t remember anyone, but, hey, she didn’t remember anything.

  He put a hand on a scanner and a door opened into the building.

  He led her through a hallway, past an office labeled “Director,” and to a room marked “IT Dept.”

  Anxiety danced through her belly. She didn’t remember anything remotely IT-ish. But hopefully they’d cut her a little slack because of the accident.

  A man and a woman looked up from computer monitors on desks in cubicles that were private but still open to the center of the room. There were two other cubicles and desks sitting empty.

  Walter patted her hand and said, “These folks met you yesterday, but you probably don’t remember them.”

  Sugar smiled at the woman with the striking, multicolored hair. “I remember you.”

  “Ginnie Djeffreys.” Wispy and ethereal, the beautiful woman offered Jade her hand. “Hi, Ms. Monroe.”

  She shook Ginnie’s hand, and said. “Sugar, please.”

  “Ginnie is our resident djin,” Jareth said. He turned to Ginnie and said, “Hey, you could share one of your three wishes with her and she could get her memory back.

  Ginnie smiled coldly. “It doesn’t work that way, fang-boy.”

  Sugar looked confused. “Genie? Fang-boy?”

  Ginnie and Jareth looked at Walter and he made a discrete cool-it motion.

  Ginnie laughed and said, “Don’t worry. We’re just joking around.”

  “Oh,” Sugar said.

  Walter motioned toward the vampire. “And this is Jareth Sang.”

  The man nodded at Sugar. “I’m French.”

  “I’m glad to meet you,” Sugar said.

  “They’re the two members of our new local SOC office IT Department. Two of the sharpest computer people I know.” Walter smiled at Sugar and patted her arm again. “Except for you, of course. You’re in a league all your own.”

  That made her feel even worse. How was she supposed to do something she couldn’t even remember?

  Walter set her bag down on an empty desk. “Let’s get you set up here.”

  “All right,” Sugar said, and sat at the desk.

  “She’s still not up to speed, guys, so be gentle. Give her an update.”

  Ginnie spoke up. “We found what the London office found, the discrepancy in patterns, but nothing else, despite our penetration testing.”

  “It’s such a cat and mouse game,” Walter said. “It drives me crazy.”

  He plugged the laptop in and it b
ooted up. Sugar looked at the screen with trepidation. As soon as it was up, she was going to be expected to know what she was doing.

  It was beginning to give her a headache.

  Jareth said, “We’re glad you’re here to help us, Sugar.”

  Her stomach clenched a little. A lot, actually.

  The screen blipped to life, showing a login screen. The first line was filled in with JadeMonroe, but the second rectangle was blank. The password.

  Hesitantly, she set her hands on the screen and closed her eyes. Then, her fingers started typing. Surprised, she opened her eyes to find that she’d typed in “EatsxxxCode9For23!Breakfast.”

  Her fingers apparently remember what her brain couldn’t. Or did they? Could this possibly be her password?

  She glanced at Walter, who smiled and nodded.

  Encouraged, she taped ENTER.

  The laptop opened, as if she’d typed in Open Sesame. Maybe that was the password for the supposed genie.

  Now what?

  She clicked on a couple of things until she found a copy of a memo she’d sent to someone: Provide me with the following. I need copies of your security logs. Firewall, intrusion detection system, antivirus logs.

  And then a reminder with: Run Kismet, NetStumbler, Paros Proxy, Cain and Abel, Nmap.

  She stared at the screen. She recognized the names Cain and Abel, but she was pretty sure the biblical folks weren’t going to help her here.

  But she could at least ask some questions now. She looked up at Ginnie and Jareth. “I’d like to check your firewall logs and security logs. Intrusion detection system. Antivirus logs.”

  Jareth nodded. “I’ll begin by casting the firewall log to your computer. We’ve only found one line of code there that was a problem but, you know, millions of lines of code.”

  A moment later, something opened on her screen.

  Sugar looked at all the lines of code. She guessed she was supposed to use one of the other software listed on the reminder to do something to this file.

  To give herself some time to catch her breath, Sugar scrolled down through the code. This was impossible. She didn’t remember any of this.

  She was about to try running Kismet, if she could even find it, when she spotted something. What it was she didn’t really know. Just a sense that there was something wrong.

 

‹ Prev