Unauthorized Access

by Andrew McAllister

  “I seen your bank on the news while you were out,” his father said as he reached for his pack of smokes.

  Tim felt a small spike of anxiety flutter through his gut.

  “Oh yeah?” he said, trying to sound unconcerned. “What’d they say?”

  “Something about terrorists,” Eldon said. “Some kind of attack.”

  Suddenly it felt like all oxygen had been sucked out of the room. The small spike in his gut mushroomed into a tsunami of adrenaline.

  Eldon squinted at him through a fresh tendril of smoke. “You feeling okay?” he asked. “You’re looking kind of pale.”

  “I’m fine,” Tim managed to choke out.

  “Hey, here it comes again,” Eldon said.

  Tim watched in disbelief as CNN cameras panned outside a First Malden branch while a voiceover described the breaking story of what was apparently the first known case of cyber-sabotage at an American bank.

  When the piece ended, Tim turned and floated back toward the kitchen, unaware that his feet were moving. He dropped slowly into a kitchen chair, planted his elbows on the table and held his swimming head in his hands. How had this happened? Yesterday Dysart had made it clear he had no intention of letting the truth become public.

  But then, Tim realized, it didn’t really matter how it had happened. He had to figure out what it meant for him. After all, Tim had always known there was some chance the news would leak out. He had just managed to convince himself through months of self-argument that the chances of such a leak were negligible. All his scheming had been based on the assumption that the bank would handle everything internally. But now the authorities would be involved.

  Which meant a much more intensive and sophisticated investigation.

  And the possibility of criminal charges.

  And jail time.

  Tim’s heart pounded as his mind raced back over all his actions, through the evidence he had left behind, both intentional and otherwise. Was the trail leading to Rob convincing enough? Thank God he had gone beyond just leaving clues in Rob’s desk at work. And Rob’s fingerprints. Tim had felt a bit on the paranoid side when he collected them, but suddenly they seemed like an inspired idea.

  An involuntary groan escaped Tim’s lips when he thought of his plan to text the keyword to the bank. Would that cell phone really be so untraceable when FBI agents started interviewing the sales staff at the store where Tim bought it? Should he use snail mail instead? Or would they find some way to trace that back to him as well?

  Tim buried his hands in his hair as the paranoia settled in for a long stay.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE HEADLIGHTS OF Stan Dysart’s Lexus swept across the interlocking bricks of his doublewide driveway in the deepening gloom of twilight. He hit the garage door opener and slipped the car inside.

  Yelps from Elke and Kara greeted him as he walked into the back yard.

  “Well hello there. How are Daddy’s girls?”

  Dysart crossed a strip of lush grass and put one hand against the wire fence that enclosed the dog run. Two Siberian huskies milled up against the fence, whining and yipping in excitement.

  “I know,” Dysart said. “I’ve been busy for a few days and you need some attention. Let me get out of this suit and we’ll go for a walk.”

  Kara tried to move closer to where Dysart stood but Elke shouldered her out of the way, asserting her role as the more dominant. As always, Dysart found himself amused at Elke’s insistence on being the leader. He knew it helped maintain peace in the family. Two doghouses stood at one end of the run, but the dogs often ignored Kara’s, preferring to curl up together in Elke’s.

  He found a pot of pasta sauce simmering on low heat in the kitchen. The dirty plate beside the sink meant Sheila had already eaten. He found her in the living room reading a book and ignoring the TV, which was tuned to a medical drama with the volume turned off.

  “I think the dogs need a walk before I can eat,” he said.

  “I expected that,” she said, looking up from the paperback. “I’ll cook some linguine for you when you get back. And we won’t be playing tennis tonight. Daniel called to cancel.”

  Doubles tennis was one of the few activities the Dysart’s did together. Stan’s long hours at the bank made it difficult to fit in much else.

  “Just as well,” he said. “I need a quiet evening, see if I can forget about the zoo I ran around in all day.”

  “I’m sure the dogs won’t want to talk about money problems.”

  “They’ll be the first ones today.”

  The dogs could barely contain their excitement when Dysart returned to the back yard holding two leashes. Elke barked and put both front paws up on the gate, while Kara bounced back and forth behind her.

  “All right, all right,” Dysart said.

  Soon the dogs were pulling him around the side of the garage. The threesome made it as far as the other side of the street when the dogs stopped for an intensive inspection of a telephone pole. Then they headed on to the next pole and repeated the process. While they sniffed, Dysart saw a small car squeal around the corner at the end of the block and head toward him.

  He barely had time to frown at the speed of the car when it made a wide turn into his own driveway. The passenger-side wheels missed the edge of the driveway and bounced up over the curb. Dysart recognized the car as Lesley’s. He saw her swing the steering wheel sharply while at the same time the brake lights came on. The Toyota ended up parked at an angle, barely a foot from his garage door.

  Dysart started to head toward her. The dogs, however, were intent on continuing their walk and milled around the pole, pulling hard in the other direction. Both leashes ended up wrapped around the pole. He sorted them out, turned back toward the house and was surprised to see Lesley still in her car. She appeared to be slumped over the steering wheel.

  A cold dread washed through his body. Had she been in an accident? Was she sick? He rushed across the street, shooed the dogs away from the car door and pulled it open. He found Lesley leaning her head against her hands on the steering wheel and sobbing. She looked up at him. The wetness on her face glistened in the streetlights.

  “Oh Uncle Stan they took him you have to help I don’t know what to do I was going to call but then I couldn’t so I—”

  “Whoa, hold on,” he said. “What’s the matter?”

  “You have to tell them it’s a mistake it has to be I mean—”

  “Lesley. You have to calm down. I can’t understand you.”

  Elke tried to push her snout past Dysart to get a closer look, but he grabbed her collar and pulled her back.

  “Are you hurt?” Dysart asked her.

  She shook her head and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand.

  “Can you stand up?” he said, grasping her upper arm gently with his free hand. “Why don’t you get out and we’ll go inside.”

  She let him guide her out of the car, and then pressed herself against his chest as the heaving sobs started again. He put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Whatever it is, we can fix it,” he said. “Now take a deep breath for me. Can you do that?”

  Lesley drew in a shuddery, snuffling breath and wailed a bit as she let it out.

  “Okay,” he said. “Nice and slow, now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “They must have the wrong guy, Uncle Stan. You have to tell them they have the wrong guy.”

  “Tell who?”

  “The FBI. They came to Rob’s apartment and arrested him and took him away and they said I couldn’t come because I wouldn’t be able to see him.” She looked up at her uncle’s face. “They think he sabotaged your computers.”

  Dysart gaped at her in astonishment.

  “But he couldn’t have.” Her voice had taken on a pleading tone. “He’s not a hacker or anything. He was trying to fix your problem, wasn’t he?”

  “I thought so,” Dysart said.

  But what if Rob’s efforts had just been for show? Could
Rob really be so two-faced? And did an arrest mean they would know the keyword soon?

  When Lesley spoke again, her cracked voice sounded far away, a mere whimper.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  * * *

  At five-thirty that afternoon, Lesley had climbed three flights of stairs to the top floor of Rob’s apartment building and crossed the hallway to his door. Before she could knock, the door swung open to reveal Rob wearing dress pants, black shoes and a crisp white shirt. He had a dishtowel draped over one arm like a waiter.

  “Ah, yes,” he said. “Miss Whitlock. You’re with the Donovan party, are you not? Please, do come in.”

  Lesley raised one skeptical eyebrow and walked past him into the apartment.

  “We’re so glad you could make it,” Rob said. “Your table is ready and the others are already seated. Can I take your jacket?”

  Lesley sighed and gave him her jacket. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I guess I’m not much in the mood for clowning around. It’s been a really crappy day.”

  Rob closed the closet door and looked at her with a mildly shocked expression. “Tut tut, my dear. Not in front of the children.”

  “What children?” Lesley said as she walked around the corner into the tiny walk-through kitchen. The sight of the dimly lit dining area stopped her cold.

  A white tablecloth covered the table. The four place settings included salad forks, cloth napkins, as well as both water and wine glasses. Two fluffy teddy bears that Lesley had never seen before—one white and the other dark brown—each had their own place setting. Their chairs were pulled in close so their front paws sat on the table. Two tall candles flickered and helped to illuminate the arrangement of roses in the center of the table. A small envelope with her name on it leaned against the base of the vase.

  “I told you the children could hear you,” Rob said.

  She plucked the brown teddy bear from his chair and smiled for the first time in hours. “He’s cute. Where did he come from?”

  “I wasn’t sure what kind of mood you’d be in. I thought it’d be safer for me if there were witnesses.”

  “Ha ha.”

  The teddy bear went back into its seat. Lesley opened the envelope. The card inside said: To brighten the day of the Future Mrs. Donovan. Love, Rob. She looked at the silly grin on Rob’s face and couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” she said.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  “You seemed so upset when you called earlier.”

  “I was.”

  Rob leaned toward her and used two fingers to lift her chin.

  “There’ll be other stories to cover,” he said, “you’ll see.”

  Then he kissed her, briefly, on the lips. She was amazed at the amount of tension that seemed to flow outward through his touch.

  “Could you do that again?” she said.

  He did. Same result.

  “How is it you always know how to cheer me up?” she asked.

  His smile seemed to light up the room for her.

  “Didn’t you know?” he said. “That’s my job.”

  Lesley’s stomach growled.

  “I think you better dig out whatever it is that smells so good,” she said. “All of a sudden I’m ravenous.”

  Rob opened the warm oven and showed her the pizza, still in its take-out box. “My most favorite concoction,” he said, “and just as you like it, lots of cheese.” He gave her a serious look. “I slaved over this for hours, you know.”

  She chuckled. “I know you’re an idiot.”

  “Maybe,” Rob said with a shrug, “but you agreed to marry me, so now I’m your idiot.”

  “You’re going to hold me to that?”

  “Someone has to help take care of these teddy bears.”

  “Well … okay. But only if you promise not to run off tonight and leave me alone like you did last time.”

  Rob slid a slice of pizza onto her plate with a flourish. “Not a chance,” he said.

  The pizza was exactly the kind of greasy food Lesley needed. After two slices she wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Okay,” she said, “I might survive now.”

  Rob topped up their glasses with red wine and they moved to the couch in the living room. Lesley snuggled comfortably under one of Rob’s arms.

  After taking a sip, Rob asked, “Who should we show the ring to first?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Lesley said. “When we’re done here I want to drive over to Stan and Sheila’s place and surprise them. Then after that we can phone our parents.”

  “You don’t want to wait until the weekend and tell them in person?”

  “No way.” Lesley’s wine jostled in her glass as she shook her head. “I’ve already waited two days to start telling people and I’m not waiting anymore. It was hard enough keeping it from Stan and Sheila when I was over there last night, but I knew it wasn’t the right time. Besides, all sorts of people will see the ring over the next couple of days and I don’t want Mom to hear from someone else.”

  “I can just imagine what she’ll say.”

  “The length of time we’ve been going out,” Lesley said, “I doubt anyone will be all that surprised.”

  “Wasn’t Shayna excited?” Rob said.

  “Shayna gets worked up when she finds a new shade of nail polish.”

  Rob chuckled. “With her at the wedding, we’ll definitely have a party.”

  “I was thinking of asking her to be my maid of honor. It’d either be her or someone back in Worcester like Karen Cunningham.”

  “I haven’t even thought of who I’d ask to be the best man yet. Tim, I suppose.”

  Lesley screwed up her face. “And of course he’ll bring Kirsten.”

  “So what? You’ll have old boyfriends there, too. Like Tim, for that matter.”

  “Oh, right. We dated for like a few weeks. I didn’t practically live with him for two years like you did with Kirsten.”

  “That’s ancient history,” Rob said, “and you know it.”

  Rob set his empty wine glass on the end table beside Lesley’s. He leaned in and kissed her. She put her arms around his neck, pulled him to her and the kiss grew long. She felt his hands move to delicious places.

  When they came up for air she said, “Is this any way for newly engaged people to act?”

  Rob considered this for a moment. “Absolutely,” he said, and they went back to work.

  A knock sounded on the apartment door. Rob started to get up but Lesley pulled him down again.

  “Don’t answer it,” she said. “They’ll go away.”

  A few seconds later the knock sounded again, louder this time.

  “I better see who it is,” Rob said. “Save my spot for me.”

  Lesley relaxed back into the softness of the couch as he left the room. She heard Rob speak in the entryway.

  “Who is it?” he said.

  The reply got her up off the couch and buttoning her blouse.

  “FBI, Mr. Donovan. We need to talk to you.”

  Lesley rounded the corner into the kitchen and saw Rob looking out through the peephole. “Got any ID?” he said.

  Rob was apparently satisfied with what he saw because he opened the door. A man wearing a striped tie under a navy blue overcoat stood in the doorway. Lesley could see other men behind him.

  “Rob Edward Donovan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Special Agent Steeves. I have a warrant here to search your apartment.” He presented Rob with a sheaf of paper.

  “I don’t understand,” Rob said. “Why?”

  “May we come in?” Steeves said.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Rob stood to one side as Steeves and three other men walked in. They were all clean cut and wore suits and ties. The last one in sported a substantial gut. />
  Two of the agents disappeared into the spare bedroom that served as Rob’s home office.

  “This is my partner,” Steeves said. “Special Agent Hanley.”

  Rob ignored the introduction.

  “What am I supposed to do?” he said to Steeves. “Stand here and watch?”

  Steeves regarded Rob coolly. “You need to stay here.”

  “Lovely,” Rob said.

  The agent with the gut reappeared. “Is your computer protected by a password, Mr. Donovan?”

  Rob just looked at him. Lesley could tell he was becoming more agitated by the second.

  “We’re entitled to examine the computer under the terms of the search warrant,” the agent said. “And I can take it into the lab and get past any password you’ve got on there, so you might as well tell me.”

  “There’s no password,” Rob said.

  The agent nodded and left.

  Steeves looked at Rob with a slightly bemused expression.

  “Is there something you’d rather we didn’t see?” Steeves said.

  “Yes. My apartment. You have no reason to be here.”

  Steeves shrugged. “We’ll see.” He folded his arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. Hanley did likewise. Lesley got the impression they were guarding the door.

  Rob glared at them for a second, then stalked to the dining room and started to clear the table. Lesley grabbed him by the elbow. It took two tugs to get him to put down the dishes and follow her into the living room.

  “Does this have anything to do with the bank?” she said in a whisper.

  “How should I know?” Rob said, making no attempt to be quiet.

  “You’ve got to calm down.”

  “They have no right to just come in here like this and—”

  Lesley stopped him with a sharp squeeze of his forearm. “Maybe they’re just checking out all the computer people who work at the bank.”

  Rob seemed to consider that. “Yeah, maybe,” he said. “I never thought of that.”

  She still held his forearm. “You have to chill out.”

  “You’re right.” He sighed. “They obviously won’t find anything, so they should be out of our hair soon. But still, they’re like Gestapo troopers storming the place, you know?”