Chapter 43 Before
BEFORE
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS, Hope,” Ash says as their faces come up on the screens of their new phones.
“Right?” Hope says grimly. She glances over her shoulder, a gesture that causes the other two to do the same.
“Are we sure this is safe?” Caro asks.
“It should be,” Hope says. “But we’ll have to keep it that way.
We can only talk about this on these phones, when we can’t be overheard by anyone, and when we’re not in our houses or our cars.
” She’s in a grassy meadow. Caro is in a park, and Ash is at the elementary school Claire attends near their home.
“Ash, are you at your kids’ school?” Hope asks. She sneezes. Her allergies are terrible at this time of year, but she wanted to be able to see in all directions.
“Yeah,” Ash says. “I don’t think anyone can overhear me, though. I’m standing in the athletic field.” She’s near an industrial-strength metal garbage can. It smells awful, and there’s a popped kickball on top.
“Is someone you know going to drive past and wonder why you’re standing outside of your car in the athletic field, though?” Caro asks.
“I don’t think so,” Ash says. “I’m by a trash can, and I’m acting like I’m going through it.”
“Is it possible that might raise more questions?” Caro says diplomatically.
“No, I’m going to say I think I threw away my kid’s retainer in here if anyone asks,” Ash says. “Plus there’s a parents’ meeting in the school in an hour I have to go to. I didn’t know how long this would take, so I wanted to be able to talk for every possible minute.”
“I love you, Ash,” Hope says, laughing. And then, on a dime, she bursts into tears. “I love you both so much, and I’m so sorry this is happening.”
“Oh, Hope,” Ash says, alarmed. This is the first time they’ve seen Hope cry outside of her movies. “It’s okay. It isn’t your fault.”
“Occam’s razor,” Hope says.
“What?” Ash is confused.
“The simplest explanation is the most likely one,” Caro says.
“Oh, right.” Ash has heard of this.
Hope sneezes again. “I’m the most likely person to get stalked because of my stupid job, and so I’m the most likely person to have brought this on us.”
“No,” Ash says fiercely. “Whoever is doing this brought this on us. No one else. Not you or me or Caro.”
Hope wipes her eyes. “Thanks, Ash.”
“How did you figure out this was happening?” Ash asks. “Do you have a background in hacking? Cybersecurity? Are you a tech expert?” Then she snorts with laughter. “Sorry,” she says. “I know they aren’t called tech experts. And I know this isn’t funny.”
“It’s fine,” Caro says. “We have to laugh or we’re going to scream. This is creepy as hell.”
Ash cocks her head. “And, Hope, you kind of are a tech expert. Look at SpyFi.” She’s referencing a popular high-tech heist movie that Hope filmed several years ago, the one where both her black leather catsuit and sarcastic one-liners went viral in all the best ways.
“You had to know what some of that jargon meant.”
“Actually,” Hope says, “I didn’t. But we did have this brilliant hacker as a consultant on that film. And she’s the one who’s helping me figure this out.” Her voice is steady. She’s back in control.
“Thank goodness,” Ash says. “What’s her name?”
“Actually, I’m not sure she is a girl,” Hope says. “None of us ever met her in person. We were only allowed to talk to her a few times, at night, and she—or he, or they—always used voice-changing software. But she does go by the code name Jane Marple. So that’s why I keep saying she.”
“Well, that feels a little on the nose,” Ash says. A brown paper lunch bag blows past behind her.
“She told me she uses a different name for each job,” Hope says. “We got this one for obvious reasons.”
“I also hope it means she’s, like, eighty-five,” Ash says. “I hope she knits like Jane Marple, too.”
“And you trust her?” Caro asks.
“More than I trust anyone else for this,” Hope says.
“How does she think it happened?”
“Someone logged on to the initial meeting without anyone else knowing,” Hope says. “They didn’t reveal they were there, and none of us noticed it.”
“The bookstore person,” Ash says. “The liaison. And all the people who work at the bookstore. That has to be where the breach happened, right? That makes the most sense.”
“Well,” Hope says, “that did seem likely. But I paid Jane to go to San Francisco, and she checked out a few things, like which employee physically set up the call that night and which computer they used. She also hacked into their system. She doesn’t think that’s where it came in.”
“Hacking into their system is for sure not legal,” Caro says.
“It for sure isn’t,” Hope agrees. “Anyway, she also managed to hack the employees’ personal computers, and there’s nothing there, though she admits she’d have to burglarize their individual apartments to be sure, and that’s not her specialty.”
“Right,” Caro said. “And also illegal.”
“So when we find who’s been watching us, what are we going to do to them?” Ash asks. The others stare at her. A wind ruffles her long, loose hair, but her expression is steel. “What?” she says. “These are our lives that are being spied on. Our friendship. Our families.”
“You’re turning out to be kind of a hardass,” Hope says, admiration in her tone. “Now I kind of feel like I should hire someone to break into their apartments. How much do you think that would cost?”
“Hope,” Caro says. “How much money have you spent on this already?”
“An unholy amount,” Hope says.
“I’m sorry,” Caro says. “And thank you.”
“Me too,” Ash says. “When did you realize that someone was watching us?”
“About two weeks ago,” Hope says.
“Why did you wait so long to tell us?”
“I wanted to be sure, and I wanted to figure out the best way for us to talk,” Hope says. “We still need to communicate on our regular phones and keep having our meetings on our regular computers, unless we want them to know that we’re on to them.”
“Which we don’t want to do until we know who they are, right?” Ash asks.
“That’s my thought,” Hope says. “But, of course, we all need to make the decision.”
“It would probably be a hard thing to get the police or the FBI to investigate because they haven’t made any threats, right?” Caro asks. “They’re just lurking?”
“Exactly,” Hope says. “Though we can try. But again, then whoever it is will know.”
“How could you tell it was happening?”
“Like I said, it was about two weeks ago,” Hope says.
“It was the call where we talked about the murder mystery where the husband takes his new wife to Palm Springs.” The others nod.
“I was the last to leave. When you all exited, there was still a user on for a split second. It had a jargony, made-up name—LikeMe Host—and I thought, wait a minute, that’s not right. ”
“You must have a stalker again,” Ash says. “Who else would do this?”
“And we trust Jane?” Caro asks again.
“I mean, as much as I can,” Hope says. “But she doesn’t know about these phones. If you want, I can also send her out to have a look at your stuff.”
“No, thank you,” Ash says immediately.
“Why not?” Caro asks. “Maybe we could also figure out who she is somehow.”
“We don’t have to make that call right now,” Hope says.
“I wanted to get you thinking about all of this. Put you in the loop. We can talk and text as much as we want on these phones. But you’ve got to keep them secure.
” She stands up, the view of the trees behind her shifting.
“I want both of you to go and open a post office box. Don’t tell anyone about it.
Text me the PO numbers, and I’ll send you each a new phone every week. ”
“Hope, that’s too much,” Ash says. “How will we ever pay you back?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Hope says. “Don’t worry about that part for now.” She’s walking, and a bird flits by in the background behind her. “Right now, I need you both to think—hard—about the people in your lives who might want to stalk you or spy on you or hurt you.”
“Done,” Ash says. “There is literally no one in my life who would want to do those things.”
“Me either,” says Caro.
“I hate to say this,” Hope says, “but don’t be so sure.”