Four #2
Sitting on her bed that evening, Norah stared at the black screen of her laptop, her stomach churning. For the past half hour, she’d been unable to boot the thing up. She felt like her computer had betrayed her, which was stupid, since it was an inanimate object. It was her fault for not making her system secure enough, for allowing Devon Leifsen to keep wiggling in through holes she’d unknowingly left open. If she couldn’t turn it on, then she couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten in, much less patch those holes.
Even knowing that, she couldn’t bring herself to boot up the laptop. With an impatient huff, she moved it off her thighs and onto the bed. Feeling like an abject failure at life, she got up and went downstairs to see Cara heading for the garage door.
Her sister paused, looking surprised. “Everything okay? Usually you don’t emerge out of your research cave this quickly.”
“Fine. Just having technical difficulties.” More mental difficulties than technical, but the technology doesn’t work if I can’t bring myself to turn it on.
“Feel free to use my laptop,” Cara said, opening the door. “I’m going out with Henry tonight.” She actually blushed a little, and Norah had to smile.
As strange as all the recent changes had been, she had to admit that Cara and Henry were objectively adorable together. Henry seemed like a really good guy now that they knew he was an FBI agent rather than a sociopathic murderer.
“Okay, thanks.” Norah realized that using Cara’s computer might be perfect. There was no way for Leifsen to tell that it was now Norah using the device, not her sister. As her brain whirred with her rapid thoughts, she realized that Cara was still hovering half in and half out of the doorway. Norah cocked her head in question. Figuring Cara might be waiting for her to say goodbye, she added, “Have fun tonight.”
Cara smiled, creating deep dimples in her cheeks. “Thanks. Molly and John just ran to pick up a few things. Will you be okay here alone until they get back?”
“Sure.” The reassurance came easily even as a cool prickle ran up her spine. The sun would be setting in just over an hour, and the thought of being in the house by herself, not wanting to turn on any lights just in case Leifsen was outside watching, was nerve-racking. Even though she knew there was a very minimal chance he was actively stalking her rather than just creeping into her laptop, she was still spooked by the whole thing. As much to reassure herself as her sister, she pulled her cell phone out of one of her hoodie pockets and a small Taser out of the other.
Giving the phone and weapon an approving nod, Cara said, “It’s good you’re smarter than me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’m not smarter,” Norah protested. “I just learned from your experiences.”
Cara blew a raspberry as she moved into the garage. “You are so smarter. Bye!”
“Bye.” The door swung closed on the word, and Norah moved to lock it behind her sister. As she heard the automatic garage door opener kick on, she moved to the alarm keypad. Another thing her sister’s experience had done was make her lose trust in the security system, especially since disarming systems was Leifsen’s thing, but she still set it on occupied—armed . Even flawed protection was better than none.
Warrant padded after her as she checked to make sure the front door was securely locked and then returned to the kitchen for Cara’s laptop. She spent more time than actually required to create a perfect square out of electrical tape and affix it over the camera. Once the lens was covered, she knew she had to take the next step. Without allowing herself to think about it, she jabbed the power button, turning it on before she could wallow in her doubts and anxiety. As it booted up, she busied herself with other tasks—getting a drink of water, scratching Warrant behind the ears, settling into a kitchen chair, lining the edge of the laptop to run perfectly parallel to the edge of the battered kitchen table, and arranging herself to allow for premium comfort. Even though she knew keeping her eyes off the screen wouldn’t help if Leifsen decided to hack Cara’s computer too, she still wouldn’t watch. The tiny illogical part of her brain was insistent that she should keep her head buried firmly in the sand if she wanted to stay safe.
When enough time passed that she was sure the computer was fully booted and she was starting to feel silly, she forced herself to focus on the screen. Logging in, she took her first full breath in what felt like an hour when she didn’t see the text box she’d been dreading. Wiping her palms against her jeans, she lifted them to the keyboard.
As soon as she dove into her usual research sites, her stomach untwisted, and she relaxed into the comforting familiarity of her job. Since Cara’s laptop wasn’t hers, she felt like it was a mask she could wear, a way of disguising her identity—albeit thinly. She saw that Chloe Ballister’s band would be playing at Dutch’s that weekend, and she added a note to the report she was preparing for Molly. It would be worth having someone there to talk to Chloe and check to see if Leifsen had tagged along.
Using the username and password she’d borrowed from one of the sheriff deputies, Norah logged into the DMV database and checked to see what vehicles were registered under Devon Leifsen’s name. When that search turned up empty, she tried his parents. They had five—two newer luxury SUVs, a vintage sports car, a utility trailer, and an older Toyota Corolla. Norah noted all the colors, models, license plates, and VINs, but she circled the information on the green Toyota. Unless it was the car they let their housekeeper drive, it had to be the one they got for their failed-to-launch adult son.
When the dreaded text box popped up in the corner of the screen, Norah jerked back as if Leifsen had reached through the monitor and slapped her.
Hey Norah!
Are you trying to avoid me? LOL
Instinctively, she moved to sever the internet connection and then shut down Cara’s computer, but she hesitated and just logged out of the DMV site instead. With late-evening sunlight still filtering through the window above the sink, she felt braver than last time, when darkness had surrounded the house. Now that she wasn’t visible through a window, safe behind locked doors and an armed security system, the urge to ask questions permeated the heavy layer of anxiety she felt.
Her hands hovered over the keys, her gaze locked on the blinking cursor. Just ask. Channeling the self-confidence she felt during her sessions with Dash, she hammered out a quick question.
Where are you?
There was a tiny pause before he responded. I can’t just TELL you. That would be too easy. What’s the fun in that?
Biting the inside corner of her lips, her brain raced as she tried to come up with the best line of questioning. Usually, she had plenty of time to develop a plan and finesse it until all the details were perfect. Thinking on her feet wasn’t her strongest skill. She finally typed one word, hoping it created the reaction she needed. Scared?
The pause before his answer was longer this time. No. LOL. I’m not the one who should be scared. You don’t even know where I am.
Norah cocked her head as her gaze ran over his words. She wasn’t the best when it came to reading people, and this format made it even harder to judge his emotional state. Had she made him defensive? She wondered at the sudden lack of exclamation points and happy faces. As she considered his answer again, more words appeared in the text box.
I know exactly where you are. Are YOU scared?
Swallowing down the sudden lurch of panic his question caused, Norah hurried to type, not wanting her hesitation to read as fear. Not really. Why would I be scared of some dude who hides behind a computer?
Her heart hammered from the confrontational words she’d just typed, and she forced down a semihysterical laugh. Leave it to her to be more afraid of arguing with Leifsen online than the possibility of him breaking in and killing her.
The longer the pause continued, the faster her breathing got until her brain was buzzing with too much oxygen. When his response finally appeared on the screen, she had to blink a few times before she was able to read it through the black spots dotting her vision.
What are you saying, pretty Norah? That you WANT to meet me? Want a more intimate repeat of our date last night?
Her heart skipped before taking off again, even faster than before. Her eyes shot to the small kitchen window, but all she could see was a square of the dusky blue sky. It reassured her that there was no way for him to see her, and she pressed the tape a little harder against the covered camera lens underneath.
Realizing she’d never responded, she typed, Sorry. Got interrupted. She paused for a second, trying to think of how to answer his earlier question in a way that was least likely to get her killed but at the same time would annoy him enough to make him careless and maybe let some helpful information slip. Nothing immediately came to mind, and she frowned, wishing one of her sisters were there to help. Giving up, she ignored his previous question and asked another of her own. Why are you so interested in me anyway?
Because you’re just like me.
She frowned at the line. Why would he think she was a creepy stalking hacker? Why would you say that?
It’s true. We’re both too brilliant to bother with the rest of the peons.
They’re not peons. Norah knew it was futile to argue, but she couldn’t stop her fingers from flying over the keys. Why would you think we’re better than everyone else? She couldn’t imagine having that kind of misplaced confidence.
Because we are. It’s obvious. You’re trying to fit in, but you don’t see how we’re miles above all those cockroaches.
Annoyance flared as she read his words, and she quickly wrote, You better not be calling my sisters cockroaches. How are you any better than them…specifically?
We’re on a higher cerebral plane. Have you read Plato? The allegory of the cave?
Norah hoped he couldn’t see or hear her, because she rolled her eyes and muttered, “A higher cerebral plane? Please.” Feeling like she finally might be able to get some useful information out of him, she played along. Sure.
Everyone else is a prisoner, staring at shadows, but the two of us…we’ve managed to break our chains and turn around. We see the truth.
With a snort, Norah paused to think of a leading response rather than telling him that she could barely muddle through life as one of those shadow-watching peons he was so disdainful of. She was pretty sure if she suddenly knew the secrets of the universe, she would hide under her bed with Warrant and a bag of peanut M&Ms and never come out.
Don’t you have any family or friends who are enlightened like us? she finally typed, not thrilled with her response but knowing she couldn’t delay any longer without seeming like she was working too hard. She didn’t want to have a philosophical discussion with him about what was “the truth.” She wanted to figure out where he was so she could send Molly after his stalking ass.
You’re not paying attention, Norah. I already told you you’re the only one.
What about Chloe? she asked, holding her breath, hoping he wouldn’t say anything incriminating about her potential friend.
She’s hot…but still a cockroach like the rest of them. We’re the only ones, Norah. That’s why we belong together.
Norah’s stomach churned as her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. Before she could type a response, he beat her to it.
I know you can’t see it yet, but I’m patient. I’ll help you realize the truth.
She knew she wouldn’t be able to get any location details out of him, but maybe if she made him mad, he’d slip. If he came after her, as terrifying as that would be, it would bring him out into the open and give her sisters the opportunity to catch him. It was obvious he wanted her to be with him, and as scared as she was, she was willing to act as bait if that would get him back into jail where he belonged.
With shaking fingers, she typed, The truth is you’re a stalker and a peon, just like the rest of us. Quit hacking my computer. Bye.
After disconnecting the internet, she closed Cara’s laptop with a decisive click. Just as she usually did after ending a conversation with Devon Leifsen, she stared at the top of the computer. This time though, she was able to mute her panic enough to be able to think things through. She had no idea if what she’d just done would be helpful in bringing Leifsen in or if she’d just made things a hundred times harder for her and her sisters. Blowing out a puff of breath, she sat back in her chair and moved her gaze to the window. Her thoughts still churned as she stared blindly at the darkening sky.
Warrant, who’d made himself comfortable under the table, groaned and rolled over onto his back. Absently using one foot to rub the dog’s belly, Norah made herself take a long breath and release it slowly. Although her stomach was still twisted into a knot and her heart continued to pound too quickly, she felt a little calmer.
Glancing down at Warrant, who was wallowing in the bliss of her tummy rub, Norah gave an amused snort that sounded too loud in the quiet house. “It’d be nice to be able to hide under that table with you. All day tomorrow too.” At least then she could avoid her coffee date. Warrant thumped his tail at her words, making her smile again.
Maybe not all day tomorrow , a sly thought interjected, and she felt her face heat at the truth of it. There was no way she was going to miss her time with Dash.
She was looking forward to their training session a little too much.