Chapter 10
Mack drives to a cement block, three-story building in downtown Haven.
It looks like it’s a converted apartment building or an old hotel.
There's rows of windows and a break in the shrubbery where a sign used to be.
Now, the only signage is on the front door, a tidy small script that reads Haven Security.
We have to be buzzed in--go figure--and Mack greets the stunning receptionist.
I instantly think, Mack should be with her.
She's hands-down the prettiest woman I've ever come face to face with--tall, blonde, with a runway-ready body that's she's covered in a conservative pants and a button-down short-sleeved top. The placard on her desk dubs her Heidi Stevens.
Heidi obviously was expecting us because she says, "He’s waiting for you in the conference room. Second door on the left."
I search for any spark between them, but if there is one, it's hidden. Both of them are nothing but professional. Heidi turns the full wattage of her smile on me and catches me checking her empty finger for a ring. She buzzes us through and doesn't acknowledge the awkward moment.
"Who are we meeting again?" I hurry to catch up--Mack's legs are longer than mine.
"The tech guy, Ziggy."
"OK." I'm feeling out of sorts. This whole thing got taken out of my hands--literally, ever since Mack took the computer bag from me at my house.
Ziggy Stevens is tall and lanky, with curly brown hair and a thin goatee. I think he’s mid-twenties, and he apparently favors oversized jeans and retro band t-shirts. Right now, he's wearing a faded t-shirt with a Grateful Dead emblem that's peeling up at the edges.
"Hey Mack," he says, grinning as they do some complicated guy handshake I'm glad I'll never have to learn. Finally he turns and nods my direction. "This one yours?"
"This one belongs to herself," I retort, snapping a little despite myself.
"Cool, cool," Ziggy says, sounding completely unaware that he offended me.
Mack smiles like he finds the entire thing funny as hell. I roll my eyes at him; he just grins. We follow Ziggy down a hall done in commercial grey carpeting. This place absolutely used to be a hotel. We even pass an alcove with a humming vending machine and an old ice maker.
"Come into my lair and tell me what can I do you for.
" Ziggy holds a heavy metal door open for us and we duck inside.
It's dark and at least fifteen degrees cooler in here.
It's a big room made cozy by the installation of a large bank of computer equipment along one wall.
I think they're servers--I've only seen things like it in movies, so I don't know.
The other wall is filled with black-background computer screens installed in a curve from left to right and up and down, all oriented toward the single padded chair in the center. When the door closes, it cuts off all noise but the low, calming whir of computer fans.
"Welcome to my sanctum," Ziggy says. He sits in the throne-like chair and props one ankle on the opposite knee. He puts the tips of his fingers together and peers over them. "There aren't any other chairs in here so you'll have to stand."
Mack slides the computer bag along his side and rummages in it. "I need you to get into this phone and this computer."
"Easy peasy lemon squeezy." Ziggy opens and closes his hands at Mack in a greedy gesture. "Gimme."
I'm irrationally offended on Alex's behalf. "How do you know you'll be able to get in before you've even looked at them?"
He huffs a little laugh. "Because I'm the Supreme Zigster. The Ziggiest Ziggy that ever did zig."
I shake my head and decide it's not worth the effort to ask. Mack hands over the laptop and the phone, and Ziggy plugs each in at different ends of his laminate workstation. In the low glow of the monitors, I see a half-empty Big Gulp and an open bag of spicy Cheetos.
Ziggy turns his back to us, immediately consumed by the data running on the computers on either end. He zooms himself back and forth across the plastic mat on the floor.
"I'm into the phone. It was standard security." His fingers fly across one of the six keyboards mounted below the narrow laminate desktop. "Downloading it all now."
He scoots over to the laptop side and studies the scrolling black and white readout. "Clever little monkey."
Ziggy flicks on another monitor and I feel a stupid sense of pride. Which is totally dumb--I want the guy to be able to break into Alex’s laptop if that will help us find him.
His fingers tap an endless staccato rhythm on the keyboard even as he asks, "Who owns this laptop?"
"Isn't that something you should have asked before you started hacking it?" I say, eyebrows raised.
"No," he says bluntly. "This is my job. I do the computer hacking thing, and I don't ask questions unless they become necessary."
"It's my brother's," I say, wondering why this whole thing has me irritated. I should be thankful. I should be kissing everyone's butt and thanking them profusely. I sigh--emotions are stupid.
"Have you thought of asking him the code?" Ziggy says, flicking on another monitor.
"He's missing," Mack says. It's as if he knows it will hurt me if I have to say the words aloud. It isn't super fun to hear them, either. "We're hoping that something on these devices will tell us why."
Ziggy hums as he works and I realize the tune is vaguely familiar.
It's the theme from Star Wars. Alex would love this guy.
A wave of sadness crashes over me, hard enough that I almost stumble.
It's followed quickly by a groundswell of shame that I'm being cranky toward the only people who might be able to help Alex without getting him in more trouble.
"Thanks," I say. "To both of you."
"No problemo," Ziggy says. He holds the 'o' sound way too long--it makes it sound vaguely mocking.
I glance up to find Mack studying me in the near-darkness. Inexplicably, my eyes are caught in his. I want to look away, but I also don't, which makes it really hard to do it. I can't read his expression, but something about the set of his mouth makes me think he's thoughtful. That makes two of us.
"I think I just about have it," Ziggy says.
I'm grateful he breaks the odd moment. I point my face toward the computer screens and pretend I have a clue what's going on.
All of a sudden, the scrolling data stops, then picks up at four times the pace.
"Whew." Ziggy leans so far back in his chair that he's staring at me from upside down. "That was a fun little chase."
I'm uncomfortable having his face at crotch level but I also don't want to offend the dude who just hacked my brother's computer, so I give a wince of a smile.
Mack steps forward, puts his hand on the back of the chair, and pushes Ziggy upright and turns him around. "What did you get?"
"Everything, obviously. But that's the problem with everything. There's going to be a bunch of stuff to go through."
"Can you order it by day? Focus on the last two weeks first, then go back two months and work forward, then the next earlier two months."
"Yes, indeedy. And I can just hand you the phone back so you can go through that yourselves. It's done uploading, so I have a full copy here. But if it's ok, I'd like to keep the laptop with me. Makes it way easier if I have to cross-reference something."
I look up at Mack, and realize he's waiting for me to give my permission.
"Sure," I say. "How long do you think it'll take?"
Ziggy shrugs and takes a long pull off of his Big Gulp. "Depends on what's on there. He's obviously a computer geek, so I imagine there's going to be some fun surprises."
"Thanks, Zig. We'll start with the phone. Let me know when you have the first report ready. I'll pick it up."
"Sweetness. May the Force be with you," he says, handing Mack the phone.
"And also with you."
I blink in the sun when we step out from the building even though I have my sunglasses on.
"What's the deal with Ziggy, anyway?" I ask. "What was the whole 'Force be with you' thing?"
Mack arches a dark eyebrow. "You've never seen Star Wars?"
"Yeah, and I've also been to mass."
He chuckles. "He doesn't mean any disrespect. He's got a quirky sense of humor is all."
I blow out a breath with puffed cheeks. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be a bitch. I'm just..." I flop my hands over in midair, trying to think of the right words.
"Stressed? Worried?” He shrugs. “It's understandable. Well, I understand. I doubt Zig even noticed. He doesn't get all the social cues others do."
My antennae go up. "Is he..."
"More like Alex in certain ways?" Mack shrugs. "Sure, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna label him. His genius lies in other areas. Who cares if the guy hates small talk when he can hack anything?"
"He struggled for a couple minutes with the computer," I feel the need to point out.
"A testament to Alex's abilities more than a censure of Zig." He holds up the phone. "Let's head back to your house and take a look."
"Oh, you don't have to--" I start, reaching for the phone.
Mack pulls it back and smiles. "You aren't going to use me for my hacker then ice me out right when things start to get interesting, are you?"
I roll my eyes. "I guess not."
"Great. What do you feel like for dinner? We can grab something quick on the way home. My treat."
"How are we going to carry it?" I ask, glancing over at his bike.
He waggles his eyebrows. "I have my ways."
Mack's ways were a bit surprising--when he gets the massive order of burgers, fries, and onion rings, plus two huge drinks, he puts down the kickstand, packs the bags into his saddlebags, and clips two drink holders to his handlebar for the drinks.
One of the sodas is a Diet Coke. I felt a weird swell of something in my midsection when he ordered it. Maybe it's because I dumped the last guy because we'd been dating for six months and still couldn't remember my coffee order. It wasn't even that hard--I like a plain iced latte.
Knock it off, I think to myself. This isn't a date. This is strictly...
I trail off when Mack hops back on the bike and pats my outer thigh to signal that he’s going to get moving again.
Truth is, I don't know what the heck this is.