Chapter 13
Marley behaved so much better when Cody wasn’t around. Dressed in black leggings and a green tee, Savannah walked at a fast
clip down Tupelo Street in Nova Cambridge. Lacy moss draped on oak trees swayed in the light breeze, sweet with the scent
of roses blooming along the sidewalk. The fragrance brought a stab of pain, reminding her of the overwhelming odor from the
floral arrangements at Jess’s funeral. Would she ever be able to enjoy their smell again?
She hurried past the flowers and sighed with relief when the aroma of freshly mown grass replaced their scent. The click-clack of a train’s wheels on the rails four blocks south reached them, and Marley paused to stare that way.
“It’s a train,” she reassured him as she stopped to catch her breath.
She glanced around and realized she was nearly to the intersection with Pecan Street.
Erik’s house was a block away, and she obeyed an impulse to walk past it.
There it was. The single-story home looked bereft even with mossy oak trees shading it.
Weeds poked through the mulch in the flower bed under the picture window, and the grass could use a trim.
This place was the site where Simon confronted his father for the first time.
Had he been back since he discovered Erik was suing for custody?
She’d tried to keep Simon too busy to wander, but the boy had a mind of his own. She approached the house cautiously, but
Erik’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and he didn’t seem to be home. She stared at the house from the sidewalk. A glint of red
caught her eye, and she stepped into the grass to see what it was. A small red double-decker bus key ring lay in the vegetation,
and she scooped it up. Simon had one like it, and she clutched it in her fist.
Her intuition had been correct. She should have thought of it sooner. When he first came to town, Simon had constantly been
jetting off in pursuit of his father. Of course he would be spying on him.
She sighed and tucked the key ring in her fanny pack beside her phone. She would need to have a conversation with her nephew.
There could be serious trouble if Erik caught him. Taking stock of her surroundings, she decided to walk to University Grounds
to grab an iced peppermint mocha and maybe an acai bowl.
Marley willingly fell into step beside her, and Savannah’s sneakers slapped the pavement as she got into the rhythm of a jog.
The exercise allowed her to push away her worry for now. She had to talk to Michael and see if they could come up with a solution
that worked for both of them. Surely he would see reason. A fight wasn’t in anyone’s best interests—least of all Simon’s.
She slowed when she reached the coffee shop and spotted Nora’s car in the lot. A smile curved her lips at the thought of seeing Nora. She would have advice on how to approach Michael. Though he and Nora weren’t close, she might have heard what he hoped to gain by taking custody of Simon.
A reedy voice floated her way, and she spotted Helen Willard on the porch with Nora. They stood beside a table that held two
cups. This might be Savannah’s opportunity to talk to Helen. Though the tiny woman held no love for the Legares, she might
be persuaded to help avoid a battle that would only hurt all of them. And her son listened to her.
As Savannah ascended the steps, she caught a phrase from Nora. “. . . get real ugly.”
Helen replied, “No one will ever know.”
The phrases implied something unpleasant or nefarious, and Savannah struggled to put on a passive expression when Helen’s
brown eyes widened at the sight of her. “Hello, Helen.” She smiled at her friend. “Nora, I was just thinking about calling
you.”
Color surged up Nora’s neck and lodged in her cheeks. “Savannah.” Her voice was flustered.
Helen didn’t reply to Savannah’s greeting but instead brushed past her with a smug expression. She clung to the railing with
a frail, liver-spotted hand as she went down the steps. Savannah knew better than to try to stop her.
Savannah climbed the steps with Marley, who went to sniff Nora’s sandals. “Everything okay?” She pulled out a chair at the
table and settled in it.
“F-fine. Everything is fine.” Nora made no eye contact as she bent to rub Marley’s ears. “I probably should be going.”
Savannah hesitated for an instant. Should she push for more information?
Lack of trust had been a sore spot between them recently.
Her fingers went to her bracelet—and she had her answer.
The bracelet had been a gift from Nora, and it spelled best friends in Morse code.
There was no need to press for more information.
Nora wouldn’t keep something important from her. “You have
a minute?”
“Just a few. I need to get back to work.” Nora perched on the chair opposite Savannah’s. “How’s the house coming along?”
Was she afraid of what Savannah might ask? “It’s progressing. We should have it ready before the wedding.” She leaned forward.
“You’ve probably heard this, but Michael is suing for custody of Simon—and Erik has agreed to give up his rights.”
Nora’s eyes widened, but she didn’t appear to be all that shocked. “I’m sorry, Savannah. I know that’s very upsetting when
Jess wanted you to raise her son.”
“Exactly—Jess was his daughter. Wouldn’t he want to follow her wishes? Do you think he’d listen if I approached him about
shared custody?”
Nora took a quick sip of her coffee. “I don’t have much to do with Uncle Michael, but he owns a trucking company and is used
to negotiations. I don’t know how he’ll react when this is family. He’s fiercely protective of Mimi. I—I wouldn’t get your
hopes up.”
Savannah sighed and sank against the back of the seat. “I was afraid you’d say that. I have to try, though.”
What choice did she have when she was hemmed in by laws that didn’t allow for following a mother’s wishes?
“Forty-six.” Hez frowned at the floor he had just finished polishing.
The living room in his new house had forty-six different kinds of wood inlaid in striking geometric patterns.
He hadn’t even heard of most of them—like bloodwood, ipe, pink ivory, and zebrawood.
Movers damaged a couple of pieces, and it took over a week and two visits to the TGU biology department just to figure out what kind of wood to order and where to find it.
Then he’d discovered that the exotic woods needed a special polish that had to be ordered from Japan.
But the floor was done now—and it was worth it. The afternoon sun slanting in through the prismed windows gave the room a
magical feeling as it brought out the different hues and patterns in the wood, which complemented and enhanced the geometry
of the design. He imagined slow dancing here with Savannah as the sun set and the stars came out. He’d put together the perfect
old-school playlist for their first Valentine’s Day together. It had lots of the Righteous Brothers, some Johnny Mathis, and
a few songs by Frank Sinatra. Did he still have that somewhere?
His phone rang. Bruno. All thoughts of romance vanished as Hez took the call. “Hey, Bruno. What’s up?”
“Weird stuff. Someone went after a copy of the Hornbrook database.”
“Oh.” Hez thought for a moment. “Why is that weird?”
“Because it’s obviously a copy. I mean, the file name is literally ‘Hornbrook.Sucks.Copy.94.’ If they’re going to go after
one copy, they should go after all copies simultaneously. They’re not doing that. They’re not even trying.”
Hez frowned. “That, uh, seems like a pretty easy file to find.”
“Yeah, it’s supposed to be.” Bruno’s voice held the patient tone of a teacher explaining something to a slightly slow student.
“I put a couple copies basically in plain sight, if you know where to look. We want Hornbrook to know that we really do have
a database of all his illegal videos.”
“Oh. Isn’t there a risk that someone other than Hornbrook will stumble across a copy of that database?”
“Yep, but all the copies are encrypted, and my encryption is very tough to break. So if they find a copy, all they’ll get
is a big encrypted file, a couple of basically harmless unencrypted videos from our Hornbrook collection to prove the encrypted
file is real, and a really good deepfake video of Hornbrook singing Taylor Swift’s greatest hits.”
Hez laughed. “Remind me never to make you mad.”
“Never make me mad.”
“Thanks. So when you say someone ‘went after’ the copy, what exactly did they do?”
“They accessed the unencrypted files, tried to access the encrypted file, and then downloaded everything. And they weren’t
trying very hard to cover their tracks.”
“Huh.” Hez tugged at his lower lip. “Why would Hornbrook do that?”
“That’s an excellent question. And here’s another: Why would he use an American?
I’m pretty sure Hornbrook has contacts in Russia, and they have lots of good, cheap hackers.
Russia also has totally corrupt cybercops, so a well-connected hacker has nothin’ to worry about.
But this particular hacker came in through an American portal and downloaded the database to an American URL. ”
An unnerving thought popped into Hez’s brain. “A guy like Hornbrook probably made some enemies in New York. Maybe one of them
somehow heard about the database.”
Bruno groaned. “That’s what I was wondering. I think there’s another player in our little game.”