Page 3 of Wired (Buchanan-Renard 13)
âDid you know he snuck back into the house one afternoon and was in your room?â Dan asked Allison.
She nodded. âThatâs what Mark told me.â
When she had heard about Brettâs attempt to snoop on her computer, she was concerned, but when she got the news about the second incident, alarm bells went off. She had been working on a program for months that, if successful, could revolutionize computer security. She had told no one about it, not even her housemates, because she had a few details to add and wanted to test it thoroughly first. Had Brett somehow discovered her work? She couldnât help being suspicious. She was usually so cautious, but he had been near her on several occasions when she logged on to her computer. Had she let her guard down? All it would take would be one stupid lapse on her part for him to learn how to access her work. She had built in precautions, and she reassured herself with the fact that she had backed up everything. Plus, Brett had only a mediocre understanding of code, so even if he found her work, she felt certain he wouldnât understand it. Still, there was a nagging worry. Maybe he was attempting to steal something. Her computer perhaps? She realized she had to be more careful. Her life was on that laptop.
âIâm the one who vouched for him in the beginning,â Dan said. He shook his head. âSo stupid.â
âHow much do we need to make rent?â she asked.
âSix hundred,â Dan replied.
She pulled out her billfold and took three one-hundred-dollar bills from the hidden fold behind the change slot. She had planned to deposit it in her account in the morning. Instead she put it on the coffee table.
Dan threw in two hundred forty. âWeâre still short sixty.â
âIâve got sixty,â Mark said.
âAl, where did you get three hundred dollars? Youâre always cash poor,â Dan said.
âBirthday money from Charlotte and Oliver,â she answered.
âIâll pay you guys back,â Mark vowed. âI promise.â
âNo, thatâs not how it works,â Dan argued. âNext month it could be Al needing some help . . . or me. We donât keep tabs.â
Allison nodded in agreement. âAre we done here? Iâve got to go.â
âWhere?â Dan asked.
She quickly explained about the seminar and once again headed to the door.
âGot your pepper spray?â Dan called.
âYes.â
âKeys?â
âYes.â
âCell phone in case you get in trouble?â
âYes.â
âSwitchblade?â
She laughed. âI donât have a switchblade . . . and no, Iâm not getting one.â
âI was just making sure you were listening to me. Be careful.â
As she was closing the door behind her, she could hear him still calling to her, âAnd donât forget . . . be aware of your surroundings.â
Dan was a worrier. He was the loving big brother she never had. She wasnât forgetting about her cousin, Will. He just didnât qualify. She had grown up with him, and he could have taken on a brotherly role in her life, but that had never happened. The only person he worried about was himself, and he certainly wasnât loving.
She heard someone call her name from the other side of the street, and just as she turned to wave to one of her professors, her phone rang. She was in a great mood until she saw who was calling. It was her aunt, who never called unless there was a problem. Allison didnât want to answer and considered letting it go to voice mail, but from experience she knew her aunt wouldnât give up. She also knew that, with each call, her aunt would become more and more belligerent. Allison decided to get it over with and talk to her now.
âHello.â
âHello, Allison. How are you?â As usual her auntâs voice was rigid. The only time Allison had ever heard any affection in the womanâs tone was when she was talking to her son.
âIâm good,â she replied. She reached the end of her block and stopped on the corner to let traffic pass before she crossed the street. The streetlights were just beginning to flicker on as dusk settled over the city.
âAre you keeping warm?â
âYes.â
âYouâre not eating too much, are you? You know you have to stay away from carbs.â
Allison sighed. Her aunt was never going to change. âNo, Iâm not eating too much.â
âWeâve been told youâre the perfect size and weight.â
Allison gritted her teeth. It was amazing she hadnât developed an eating disorder. While she was in high school, it was salads every night. Her aunt was constantly counting Allisonâs calories. The pressure was nerve-racking. âYes, I know.â
âAre you keeping warm? We canât afford for you to get sick.â
Sheâd already asked that question. Her aunt was rattled. Allison could hear the tension in her voice. Trying to rush her to explain the problem never worked, though. God knew, Allison had tried to speed up the process in the past. It just made her aunt more nervous and prolonged the silly chitchat until she finally circled around to the reason for her call.
âYes, Iâm keeping warm,â Allison repeated.
âIâm sorry. What were you saying? Your uncleâs talking to me at the same time, and I . . .â
âYes?â Allison stopped there.
âHave you spoken to Giovanni lately?â
âYes. I talk to him every week. Why?â
âWeâre going to need you to do a couple more modeling jobs as soon as possible. Youâll have to put school on hold for now.â
Again? Oh, hell no. âAunt Jane, itâs almost the middle of the semester. I canât just quit again. I only need a few hours to graduate. How many times do you think the Jesuits will take me back? What happened?â
It was Will, of course. It was always Will. Allison didnât dare ask what he had done now, because her aunt would get her back up. When it came to Will, his mother and father lived in Looney Tune Land. Nothing was ever his fault.
âWill could go to jail,â her aunt blurted, her voice shaking with emotion. âYes, you heard me. Jail.â
âWhy?â
âFor something he didnât even do,â she said. âHe didnât steal anything. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and when the police came, he tried to tell them that, but they wouldnât listen to him. Now they want to charge him with resisting arrest, too. Heâs the victim here, and his attorney will prove heâs innocent. But thereâs an issue with the lawyerâs retainer. . . .â
âAunt Jane, I canâtââ
âThis is an emergency. Your uncle and I are tapped out.â
She heard her uncle say, âTell her to stop arguing and do what sheâs told. The decisionâs been made.â
Allison could feel a slow burn coming on. She had reached the sidewalk in front of the auditorium and was now pacing back and forth. Students were passing her on their way into the building. She stopped pacing for a second and noticed a man in a heavy overcoat with the collar turned up standing at the top of the steps. He was watching her. Danâs warning to be aware of her surroundings made her take notice, and she walked away from the steps as she continued to listen to her auntâs argument.
âYour uncleâs right. Weâve made the decision. Just remember, family comes first, and Will needs you. Donât be ungrateful after all weâve done for you and your sisterââ
She interrupted. âAunt Jane, itâs okay. I donât need to quit my classes. Iâve already talked to Giovanni, and Iâm doing a shoot during break, which is coming up soon.â
She waited while the information was relayed to her uncle.
âOh, thatâs wonderful,â her aunt said with a huge sigh of relief. âIâm sure the lawyer will wait, knowing the check will be coming. Your uncle will talk to him.â
In their minds the problem had been solved, and Will would on
ce again get a free pass. They really believed, with the right lawyer and enough money, they could get their son out of anything. And thus far theyâd been right. They had somehow convinced themselves that Will was a victim. All he needed was enough love and support, and everything would be fine. Allison tried to care about her cousin, but she couldnât understand his parentsâ irrational devotion. They had added so many colors to the truth they had actually painted a new reality.
Allisonâs statement about talking to Giovanni wasnât a total lie. She had spoken with him just last week, but she didnât have any work scheduled. She could call him tomorrow and grovel, she supposed, unless he really did have something for her. He had become not only her employer, but also what she imagined a father should be. She had gained his complete loyalty when she agreed to work exclusively for him. He called her his muse and often asserted that she was giving up the chance to be a top model by staying in Boston instead of moving to New York. She disagreed. She was neither tall enough nor thin enough, and she was already too old by the fashion worldâs standards. There was also the fact that she didnât have the extra drive it would take to succeed. Besides, her ambitions were taking her in an entirely different direction.
Allison ended the call and, putting her relativesâ problems aside, hurried up the steps. Heavy snow had started to fall, and the chill in the air was biting.
There was a seat on the aisle three rows from the stage. She unzipped her vest, removed her scarf, sat back, and then remembered to turn her phone to mute.
Jordan was standing near the podium talking with the moderator. It would be easy to be envious of her, Allison thought. Jordan seemed to have it all. Not only was she brilliant; she was also very beautiful, with long auburn hair, sparkling eyes, and an infectious laugh. The moderator looked enthralled. Jordan spotted Allison and waved to her.
After a brief introduction, Jordan spoke for thirty minutes about her experience as a software developer and her current project creating programs to simplify computer learning. Allison hung on every word. Then came the questions. Some of the computer science majors were a bit condescending, no doubt trying to impress Jordan with their knowledge. Her answers were given so patiently and with such a sweet smile Allison wondered if any of the questioners realized they had just been taken down by an expert.
When the lecture was officially over, most of the audience began to file out, but a few diehards stayed behind to continue the discussion. After twenty minutes of back-and-forth, a couple of students asked more complex questions that piqued Allisonâs interest. She listened intently to Jordanâs expert answers and was spurred by her own curiosity to raise her hand. Jordan turned and pointed in her direction. âYes? Your question?â
Allison straightened in her chair and raised her voice. âI was wondering if you ever considered using Cobar to write your code for that particular program.â
All eyes were on her now. A few people exchanged puzzled glances. Cobar was an obscure programming language unknown to most of them.
Jordan stopped to think for a minute. âThatâs a really interesting idea,â she answered. âWhy would you think it would fit this application?â
Allison explained her reasoning, and before long the two women were engaged in a lively dialogue. At first, the other audience members who had remained behind tried to keep up with the conversation by asking for clarification, but it soon became apparent that most of them were lost. As the questions became more detailedâwith Jordan asking Allison most of themâthe dwindling audience began to lose interest, and one by one they exited the auditorium, leaving just Jordan, Allison, and a small band of fewer than a dozen students.
Becoming aware that most people had left, Allison glanced around at the empty chairs and spotted someone standing at the back of the auditorium. He was the same man sheâd noticed outside on the steps. He was occupied, texting on his phone. He obviously wasnât interested in the discussion, and yet he wasnât leaving. He looked up, and for the briefest of seconds their eyes met. She could have sworn he smiled at her. She was certain she had never seen him before. She definitely would have remembered a man as fine-looking as that.
The moderator finally stopped the question-and-answer period by stepping forward and thanking Jordan for participating in the forum. Those still in the auditorium showed their appreciation with a round of applause. As she waited in her seat for Jordan to say good-bye to the moderator, Allison noticed a message on her phone from Dan. He was at the library and wanted her to text him when she was ready to walk home. Heâd walk with her. She smiled when she read it. Dan was such a worrywart, but she was secretly grateful he considered himself her protector.
Allison quickly slipped her phone back into her pocket and made her way to the stage to say hello to Jordan, who was just coming down the steps.
âWas I as boring as I thought I was?â Jordan asked.
The moderator had turned out the stage lights and was locking up the auditorium.
âNo, you werenât boring at all. How come some of those computer science boys were so condescending?â
âBeats me,â Jordan answered. âYou put them to shame tonight,â she added, grinning.
Allison texted Dan as they made their way to the exit. She looked around for the mysterious stranger who had been watching from the back of the auditorium, but he had disappeared.
The two friends didnât have much time to catch up while they waited on the steps outside, because Dan appeared almost immediately. He and Allison walked Jordan to her car and then backtracked toward their house. On their walk home she told Dan about her programming discussion with Jordan during the seminar.
âYou do realize Iâm an econ major, and everything youâve just said sounds like gibberish to me.â
She laughed. âSorry. I guess I was getting a little technical, wasnât I?â After a minute she said, âI was showing off tonight. I shouldnât have done that.â
âWhy not? Thereâs nothing wrong with letting people know how smart you are.â
She disagreed. âI donât want to draw attention. It could get me into trouble.â
âWhat kind of trouble could you get into? Itâs not like you broke the law or anything,â he said, and then teasing her with a raised eyebrow and an exaggerated look of suspicion, he added, âOr did you?â
âNo, of course not,â she laughed, averting her eyes.
If he only knew.
FOUR
Over spring break Allison planned to get ahead of her classwork, but her aunt and uncle demanded that she take on another modeling assignment because the attorneyâs bill had grown to staggering heights. She knew she could refuse. She was over eighteen, and they had no legal control over her, but saying no simply wasnât worth the barrage of calls and constant harassment. She wouldnât put it past them to follow her into class and make a scene to get what they wanted. It was always easierâand inevitableâto give in.
Keeping Will out of jail was becoming more and more difficult. He had been ordered by one judge to attend anger management classes. Allison hoped more than anything that these would help, but she had her doubts.
Fortunately Giovanni was ready to photograph the catalog for his new line and was overjoyed that Allison would be available. The photos were shot along the beautifully rugged coast of Maine, and for two weeks Allison posed, as a team of hairstylists, makeup artists, and dressers hovered around her, primping and preening. On the day she returned home to Boston, Jordan called.
âIâm so glad youâre back,â Jordan said.
Allison could hear the eagerness in her voice. âWhatâs going on?â
âHow would you like to visit the FBIâs new office building with me this afternoon?â
Allison immediately declined. The last few weeks had been exhausting and she wanted a day to recuperate, but when Jordan mentioned they would be visiting the new cyber center, she reconsidered.
>
âAgent Jim Phillips is a friend of Noahâs and mine,â Jordan explained. âNoahâs worked with him in the past, and weâve known him a long time. Heâs head of the cyber task force in Boston. I hear the facility is state-of-the-art, and Iâm dying to see it. He just called me and asked if Iâd like to come and tour it today. He knew who you were and told me I could bring you along, too. What do you say?â
âHow does he know about me?â Allison asked suspiciously.
âNoah, Iâm guessing,â Jordan answered. âMy poor husband has heard us talking codes and viruses and programs for hours on end. He probably mentioned you to Phillips. So, do you want to go or not?â
âAbsolutely. Iâm in.â
She hadnât unpacked from her trip yet and went to her closet to find something to wear. She didnât think her usual uniform, jeans and a T-shirt, would be appropriate, so she chose a skirt and a silk blouse with a pair of nude heels.
When Jordan came to pick her up, Allisonâs two housemates were shooting hoops in the driveway. They stopped to watch her walk down the sidewalk and whistled in appreciation.
âWhere you goinâ, Al? Must be someplace special for you to put on a skirt in the middle of the afternoon,â Mark called out in a singsong tease.
She smiled and waved to them as she got in the car.
The ride took a long while. Jordanâs GPS led them onto three different highways before they exited into an old industrial area. Allison wasnât even sure they were still in Boston. They turned a corner and ended up on a long, winding road that seemed to be heading to the middle of nowhere. There werenât any houses or other commercial properties around, just thick trees on either side. The branches draped over them like an umbrella.
âWhy would the bureau put an office all the way out here?â Allison asked.
Jordan was just as puzzled. âI donât know. When I told Noah we were going there today, he warned me it was in a remote area. I wish he could have come with us, but he had to leave for Florida this morning.â
They pulled up to a gate in a tall chain-link fence, and the GPS announced that they had reached their destination. Beyond the fence was a modern three-story building, all tinted glass and steel. There werenât any signs indicating it was an FBI office.