Her Own Drum

by Ali Franklin

  “I don’t know,” said Grace. “All I know is I’m not going back in there.” She clenched her jaw as she stared into the darkness of the room.

  The waiter brought their drinks and two glasses of water and placed them on the table. Ryan lifted her glass of beer to her friend.

  “Here’s to being a free woman,” she said.

  Grace lifted her glass of chardonnay. They looked into each other’s eyes as they clinked their glasses and sipped.

  Ryan’s phone beeped from inside her bag. “I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching for it.

  “It’s fine,” said Grace. “It might be important.”

  Ryan pulled out the phone and glanced at the screen. “It’s Summer. She’s awake!”

  “Who?”

  “Teddy.”

  Grace raised both hands to her face as she narrowly avoided spitting out a mouthful of wine. The liquid caught in her throat and she began to cough. Ryan, who was texting as quickly as she could, half-rose from her seat and asked if Grace needed help.

  “No,” Grace stammered between coughs, “I’ll just run to the restroom.”

  Ryan called Summer and learned that Teddy had regained consciousness about half an hour earlier. After a few tests, the doctor had declared an even stronger prognosis than before; it was likely there would be no lasting neurological damage from the current that had shot through Teddy’s body.

  Summer gushed. “She’s going to be absolutely fine.”

  A few minutes later, a smiling Grace returned to the table. “What did Summer say?” she asked.

  “Teddy’s going to make a full recovery.” Then, remembering what the doctor had said that afternoon, Ryan amended her statement. “Other than the scars on her hand and foot.”

  “That is wonderful.” Grace raised her glass in a toast, then drank the remainder of her wine. She motioned to the waiter for another.

  “The doctor wants to keep her for another day or so. She should be able to go home tomorrow night or Saturday morning.”

  “Amazing.” Grace shook her head. “How in the world did she survive?”

  “The doctor said she was lucky. The current bypassed her vital organs and went out through her bare foot. If she had been wearing rubber-soled shoes, or if her hand had been a little higher up on the handle of the refrigerator, it might have been a different story.”

  Grace’s second glass of wine arrived and she wrapped both hands around it. She lifted the glass and proclaimed, “To Teddy’s great escape.” They clinked and sipped.

  Ryan rolled her shoulders, trying to relax. “Now that we know Teddy’s okay, let’s talk about something else. What’s the first thing you want to do now that you’re out?”

  “I’m doing it.” Grace smiled. “And I can’t wait to do more of it. Do you want to go out again tomorrow night?”

  “I’d love to,” Ryan said. “But if Teddy’s home I’ll probably want to take dinner over to their house.”

  “That sounds good,” Grace said. “I’d really like to talk to her about how she managed to live through an attempt on her life.”

  Ryan frowned. “She might not be ready to talk about it.”

  “I promise I won’t push her.”

  The waiter appeared and they ordered dinner: fish for Ryan and a steak for Grace.

  Ryan leaned forward. “Have you talked to your boss today?”

  “I called him on my way over here,” Grace said. “He told me I could wait until Monday to get back to work.”

  “Did he seem weird? You know, about me outing you?”

  “It didn’t come up. It’s probably the last thing on his mind, considering I was just in the county jail.” Grace laughed.

  “I really hope I didn’t damage your relationship.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine.” Grace reached across the table to take Ryan’s hand again. “Let’s talk about something other than work. Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

  “Not yet. Got anything in mind?”

  “Other than spending as much time as possible with you, I’m going to get back to my schedule. This is the last Saturday of the month, so I’ll probably spend a couple hours at a nonprofit I work with.”

  “Really? Which one?” Ryan was intrigued. She couldn’t imagine getting out of jail and thinking about volunteer work right away.

  “It’s called Hannah’s House. It’s a halfway house for women and their kids who have left abusive relationships.”

  “Some of our student organizations sponsor fundraisers for them.”

  Grace nodded. “They do. I help the House with their fund-raising website and communications. They’re running a capital campaign right now to expand the facilities. It’s an important time for them.”

  Their food arrived and the women spent the next few minutes enjoying it.

  “How was the food in the ‘pokey’?” asked Ryan.

  “Criminal.” Grace got it as soon as she said it. They both laughed.

  “That’s terrible,” Ryan said.

  “This, however,” Grace said, holding up a bite of steak, “is terrific.”

  They ate in silence for a few more minutes. When they were finished, the waiter removed their plates and asked if they had saved room for desert. They hadn’t, but neither wanted the dinner to end. So chocolate mousse it was.

  As they shared the little dish, Grace looked at Ryan. “When we talked this morning, you said you had just left the sheriff’s office. Did you get any new information about the case?”

  Ryan shook her head. “No. They told me you were released because there was another victim. I didn’t even know it was Teddy.”

  “Was it that witch Trainor?”

  Trainor. With a quick intake of breath, Ryan remembered the end of their meeting this morning and the jolt that had pulsed through her body at the touch of Maddie’s lips. Her face got warm and she reached for her water.

  Grace’s nose wrinkled. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. I just don’t want to talk about her.”

  Grace’s knuckles turned white around the handle of her spoon.

  21

  Ryan woke refreshed on Friday morning. She jumped out of bed with more energy than usual and decided to go for a run.

  As she warmed up, she replayed the previous evening in her head. Her date ended after Grace paid the bill (a pleasant surprise) and they both mentioned having an early morning the following day. They promised to call each other sometime today to talk about plans for tonight. Ryan was hoping they would have dinner at Teddy and Summer’s house to celebrate Teddy’s recovery.

  She reached the usual halfway point of her jog and decided to take advantage of the extra spring in her step to go an extra mile. As always, she was using her run to think about the day ahead and any unsolved issues in her life. Today she was wondering whether the person who tried to kill Teddy would try again — with Teddy or anyone else.

  Ryan thought about the process she had gone through to get into the ICU the day before. If Teddy was moved to a regular ward, anyone would be able to gain access to her room. The thought made her stop. She walked slowly for a moment, lifting her knees high, as she considered the possibility. Maybe she should call Maddie Trainor today to talk about her fears.

  Maddie. There was that jolt of electricity again. She shook her head and started running. Thirty minutes later she arrived back at home, where she showered and dressed. As she read the New York Times over breakfast, her phone rang.

  “Dr. McCabe, it’s Kyle Petrowski. I’ve got bad news.”

  “Damn.” She set down her tablet. “Let’s have it.”

  “The hacker is making progress. Last night he got identifying information from the employee records. Addresses, phone numbers, previous addresses and employers. Things that are on employment applications and faculty background sheets.”

  Ryan remembered the online forms she completed when she came to the college.

  “Social Security numbers?” she asked.

  �
��No, ma’am.”

  She envisioned a faceless hacker in a hoodie chipping away at the firewall from a dark basement room. In her mind, their computer defenses were like the wall of a dam, with all the individual pieces of data straining to tumble out. She shivered.

  “What’s your next move?” she asked.

  “I’ve contacted the Sheriff’s office. I have a meeting with a cyber detective this morning. We’re considering hiring a few white hats from a Dallas security firm to get in the system and look around for this guy.”

  Ryan’s head was swimming with thoughts about all the things a hacker could do with personal data from the campus population. She was responsible for the student part of that information. She sat up straighter.

  “You say only faculty records were hacked?”

  “Yes. Those files are stored separately from the student data.”

  “Have you talked with President Martinez yet?” she asked.

  “I have. You’ll be hearing from him this morning.”

  “Kyle, is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Not unless you have some mad computer skills I’m not aware of.”

  “Sorry. But keep me posted.”

  She sat at her kitchen table, staring into her now-soggy Cheerios. Mad computer skills. She was perfectly capable of managing email and searching for cat videos, but a computer scientist she was not. She squelched the budding seed of helplessness in her stomach.

  As she rinsed her dishes in the sink, she considered what she could do to help. Mad computer skills. She dried her hands and reached for her phone.

  “Well, good morning. I didn’t expect to hear from you quite so soon.”

  “Hi, Grace. I hope I’m not calling too early.”

  “I’m up. Did you hear from Teddy and Summer?”

  “I’m actually calling about something else.” Ryan hesitated, confirming internally that she wanted to talk about the college’s problem with an outsider. “You have a computer science degree, right?”

  “I have two. Why?” Ryan could practically hear Grace’s questioning look through the phone.

  “Do you think you could catch a hacker?”

  “Maybe. Has your email been hacked?”

  “No, not me personally. It’s the college.” There was a pause.

  “What’s the extent of the breach?” When Ryan didn’t answer, Grace rephrased. “What data did they get?”

  “He got directory information about staff and students sometime within the last two weeks. More recently, he got personal data about staff and faculty, like past addresses and job data.”

  “That’s serious,” said Grace. “What’s the plan of attack?”

  “Our head of IT is working on it and bringing in a detective. He may also hire some security experts from Dallas.”

  “That’s a good start. Do they have any clues about the hacker? Sometimes these guys have a signature.”

  “You’d have to ask Kyle in IT about that,” said Ryan. “If you think you could help, I’ll ask him to put you on the team as a consultant.” Ryan continued to imagine what would happen if sensitive student information fell into the wrong hands.

  “I’d be glad to help. I’ll send you my resume and your guy can check my credentials if he wants.”

  “Thank you so much.” Ryan was already starting to feel better.

  Four hours later, Ryan was pacing the well-worn track on her office carpet thinking about Cora and Teddy. Cora’s murderer was still out there and Ryan’s own best friend had been targeted. Someone had to catch this killer before someone else got hurt. She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

  She was glad that next week was only the start of summer classes. If it had been the beginning of the fall semester, an unsolved murder would have already caused hundreds of enrollment cancellations. They had to crack this case soon so everyone had time to forget about it by the time the academic year began.

  Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and smiled. “Hi, Grace. Did you hear from Kyle?”

  “I did. He set me up with access to the system and I’ve been looking for your hacker all morning.”

  “Any luck?”

  “He’s pretty smart. He hasn’t made any of the usual mistakes or left any obvious clues, but I’m still looking.”

  Ryan looked at her watch. “Do you want to take a break? It’s about time for lunch.”

  “Sure. I’ll come over to campus. It’ll be nice to get out of the house. And to see you.”

  Maddie Trainor frowned at her desk. Something just wasn’t adding up. Thanks to the electronic note on the refrigerator, they knew the attempt on Teddy Sayers’ life was linked to the death of Cora DeLuca. But there was no other evidence regarding the case. More importantly, she could find no motive for anyone to kill Cora or Teddy. She shook her head.

  She hadn’t been on the force for thirty years like Jack Prieto, but she had been in law enforcement since she graduated from college. In that time she had developed a cop’s intuition — what she called her “spidey sense.” It tingled with every move she made on this case.

  She pushed her chair back from the desk and turned to stare at her white-board. There was a large empty space where the information on Grace Loh had been attached. The expanse looked enormous. And it made her angry.

  She flipped through her notebook for what felt like the thousandth time, stopping at a page that said “RYAN MCCABE (DR/DEAN)” at the top. She remembered Ryan’s visit the day before and how her own emotions had taken over. Once she had put her hands on Ryan’s shoulders she had almost been unable to stop herself. She bit her bottom lip.

  Her eyes moved over the notebook page. She re-read the information about Abby Strimple, then flipped through the next two pages. Ryan might have been right when she had accused Maddie of letting other leads go cold after settling on Grace Loh as the prime suspect. She reached for the phone, then stopped herself. She needed more coffee. After she drove through Java Jimmy’s, she would visit Abby’s office at the college.

  Maddie liked to visit people when they weren’tt expecting her. She was convinced she got more honest information when they didn’t have time to put up their guard. She got her coffee, then parked near Van Zandt Hall and walked across the plaza to reach Rentz Hall, the administration building.

  The detective walked into the front room of the controller’s office expecting to see an administrative assistant or other employee. No one was there. She walked further into the office and saw a doorway with a nameplate that read “College Controller.” She poked her head inside.

  Abby looked up at the sound of a light knock, registered the detective’s presence, and dropped her own cup of coffee on her desk.

  Maddie’s face was expressionless. “Did I startle you?”

  “Oh,” said Abby, rising from her chair. “Let me jussst clean this up.” The coffee cup had been mostly empty and it took only a few napkins to dab up the dark liquid that had escaped. When she had restored her desk to a reasonable order, Abby straightened her blazer and looked up at her visitor.

  “What can I do for you, Detective?”

  Maddie blinked. “Have we met, Ms. Strimple?”

  “I saw your picture in the paper.”

  “Ah. Can we talk for a few minutes? In private?” she motioned to the door behind her.

  “Of course.”

  Maddie closed the door and took a seat near Abby’s desk. Abby was straightening papers and putting files in a drawer. Maddie flipped through her notebook and clicked a pen.

  “Ms. Strimple, were you a part of the capture the flag match last Monday?”

  “Yes.” Abby sat up straight, shoulders back. “President Oscar Martinez and I were on the same team. The president and I have been friends for many years.” Maddie pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.

  “Were you expecting to see Cora DeLuca play that day?”

  “Yes, she was supposed to be there.” Abby sighed and shook her head. “Poor, dear Cora.”


  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “I don’t remember. During the semester I don’t see the faculty that often. They’re only on campus when they have class. Upper administrators like me are here every day.” She emphasized the word “upper” as if there was such a thing as a lower administrator.

  Maddie made a note. She didn’t say anything for a moment, hoping Abby was the kind of person who had to fill the silence. She was.

  “We were sorority sisters in college, you know. Cora and I were dear friends.” Abby shifted in her chair and clasped her hands in her lap. “We were practically inseparable back then.”

  Maddie looked up, waiting.

  “In fact, I helped Cora get hired at Haverwood. I just called the department chair and told her I had the perfect candidate for that position. She — the department chair — was so impressed by my recommendation that she practically offered Cora the job sight unseen.”

  That wasn’t exactly the way Maddie had heard the story from Ryan. She made a note to interview the department chair.

  “Ms. Strimple, I understand you were the last one from the group to get to O’Leary’s on Monday evening.”

  “Is that right?” Abby shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

  “What took you so long to get there?”

  “Honestly, I don’t recall.” She furrowed her brow as she thought about it. “It was hot and we had all perspired a great deal. Oh, I remember now. I came here and changed my clothes.”

  Maddie flipped to a page in her notebook and read it. “Doctor McCabe said she walked to her office to get some clothes, then walked to the rec center where she showered and changed. Then she walked to O’Leary’s.” The detective looked at Abby. “You arrived after she did.”

  “Did she tell you that?” Abby stood, her hands balled into fists. “Did she say I killed Cora? I didn’t!”

  Maddie motioned for her to sit down. “Nobody said you killed Dr. DeLuca. Some of your colleagues simply noticed that you were the last one to arrive at the afterparty. Did anyone see you come to this office? Maybe a campus patrol officer?”

  “To tell you the truth, I didn’t notice anyone.” Abby sat back down.