Geektastic

by Mary Frame

  She hauls both of us back to her bedroom and throws black clothes at us.

  It doesn’t work out well. Reese is tall and thin and I’m average height but have a lot more . . . girth. Taylor falls somewhere in between.

  But we sure do have a lot of fun sorting through Chad and Taylor’s closet.

  In the end, Reese is wearing black leggings that are more like capris on her and a black cape that must’ve belonged to a Halloween costume. Taylor has on a black cowboy hat and sweats and a T-shirt, and I’m wearing one of Chad’s giant hoodies and jeans.

  I crack up laughing when I catch our reflection on the mirrored closet door.

  Reese grins at me. “This is the best girls’ night.”

  We grab some flashlights and head out the front door.

  Taylor brings a flask for the road, passing it around while we tromp down the street. The end of every block has a streetlight, but otherwise we have only the moon to guide us. Hopefully we won’t need to call anyone for help, because I left my purse behind. Taylor insisted since it’s bright and blingy and would have ruined the whole look.

  Reese and Taylor are trying to guess about Jude’s mysterious ways and what we could possibly be searching for.

  “Maybe it’s an artifact or some kind of historical relic,” Reese says.

  Taylor snorts. “Like a Blue Falls version of Indiana Jones? I doubt it. I bet it’s something dirty. Is it a secret dildo?” Taylor nudges me with an arm, laughing.

  “Oh, I’ve got it!” Reese cuts into the laughter. “Pirate treasure!”

  “We’re landlocked. How could it be pirate anything?” I ask.

  “The pirates could have moved it up here, you know. It’s not like the ocean is far.”

  “Maybe it’s a horcrux!” Taylor shouts.

  Reese gasps. “Yes!”

  “No.” I shake my head.

  Taylor hooks her arm with mine. “Well, you won’t tell us so we’re improvising.”

  We’re nearly to the alley now so I stop at the entrance and Taylor and Reese stumble into each other behind me. “It’s down here.” I hand Taylor my flashlight. “Here. You guys stay down here and keep an eye out.”

  “You can’t go down there alone,” Taylor says. “At least bring Reese with you just in case. I’ll flash the light if anyone is coming. I’m safer here than you are down there.” She grimaces into the darkness of the alley.

  I nod and Reese and I make our way toward the shed. We reach the small white building and stop in front of the door. It’s a standard knob with a cylinder lock, no padlocks or anything that would cause me any trouble.

  “You gonna pick the lock?” Reese asks in a loud whisper.

  Something shuffles inside the dark, windowless shed.

  “Shhh!” I wave my hand at Reese and we both stare at the shed in silence, our fast breaths the only sound carrying through the night air.

  Did I imagine it?

  A small thump sounds from the other side.

  What if it’s a bad guy? Wait. Why would they be hanging out in a shed? What if it’s a killer dog?

  Hell, maybe it’s nothing but my own overactive imagination and too much wine.

  My heart is racing. My hands start shaking and I have to take a deep breath before sticking the pins into the lock and twisting, waiting for the tumblers to fall.

  Then they do and I jerk my head toward Reese. “I got it.”

  She flashes her light to Taylor.

  Then I open the door.

  A figure jumps out, landing right on top of me, and Reese and I go falling to the ground, the shed person on top of us.

  It’s not a dog or a bad guy. It’s a she. A small, blonde . . .

  Grace?

  She’s screaming and kicking and flailing, tiny fists flying, and I struggle to pin her limbs down.

  One arm hits Reese in the boob and another strikes me on the side of the face, a sharp pain shooting through my head.

  I guess that’s one way to sober up quickly.

  We are a mess of bodies but I’m bigger and stronger so I manage to get her down and under control by basically sitting on her, but she’s still squirming and bucking and fighting for her life.

  And she really, really stinks. Like body odor and dirt and old potatoes.

  I’m a little shocked and a little out of breath from trying to pin the wildcat down, but I’m sure it’s her.

  She’s a petite blonde who looks nothing like Beast, not that I can tell under the dirt smudging her face, exactly like Jude said and who else could it be?

  “Grace! Stop!” I finally manage to get out.

  At the sound of her name, she finally stills. “Who are you?” Eyes blink up at me.

  Now I’m grinning. “I’m a friend of Jude’s. And Beast. Can we stop fighting now?”

  She nods.

  Relieved we’re no longer in a battle to the death, I swing off of her and then help her stand. Now that she’s not trying to kill me, I realize how tiny her hand is in mine. She’s bundled up in dark black clothes.

  “Where’s Beast? Jude?” she asks.

  “They’re here. I mean, they’re in town. They’re at home . . . We’ll take you there now. Why were you in that shed?” My brain is whirring. Dammit, why didn’t I bring my phone?

  She blows out a breath, sending long blonde hair flying out of her face. “How do you think? It’s not like I locked myself in there.”

  I look over at Reese, who’s on her butt on the ground a few feet away, mouth open, eyes wide. Taylor is standing next to her, panting. She must’ve run down from the head of the alley.

  Someone locked her in there during the Turkey Parade. I glance over at the shed. Someone was keeping her here, clearly. This is the scene of a crime. We might need proof of that later. But it’s not like I can fingerprint the place or get an imaginary CSI tech to test for DNA on their lunch break. So, what can I do?

  “We gotta get Grace out of here. But . . . we should get pictures of the inside of this shed.” Then at least we’ll have some photographic evidence in case whoever it was shows back up—which they will eventually—and cleans up all the physical evidence.

  Taylor steps up. “I can run home and grab my phone and come right back.”

  I shake my head. “No. Not alone. And we need to get to Jude’s. But pictures will be important.” I grimace in the direction of the dark hovel.

  Grace’s head cocks and she considers me. “That’s smart.”

  “How did you end up here?” I can’t help but ask.

  Her eyes meet mine. “I’ll explain everything after a shower.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.

  —Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

  Jude

  It’s my favorite part of Two Weeks Notice, when Sandra Bullock finally gets her man and orders dinner for two. Fitz is missing it because he’s in the bathroom. I’m about to call out to him when the front door slams open.

  “Beast? Jude?” Annabel’s voice is high and unnatural and I’m at the front door before my brain can register my feet moving.

  “Are you okay?” My eyes run over her in a state of semipanic, taking in her figure, which seems to be intact, though it’s outfitted all in black with an oversize sweater. Her hair is disheveled and a pink mark blooms on the side of her face. I reach for her without thought, bracing her cheek. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  Her gaze shifts to the side.

  “Well, shit, Judas Priest. Is this the reception I get? More concerned about your girlfriend? She’s fine. I didn’t punch her in the face that hard.” The voice is tired and proud and familiar.

  My eyes swing over in shock. “Grace?”

  Before I can translate my emotions into action, Beast is there. I’m unceremoniously swept out of the way—along with everyone else—by Beast’s giant arm. I get pushed into Annabel and Reese and Taylor as we all bump against the wall.

  Beas
t has Grace up in his arms, his head buried in her small neck while her feet dangle in the air. She grips his massive shoulders, patting him on the back with small motions.

  His giant shoulders shake and he’s not making a sound and it’s still the most emotional thing I’ve ever witnessed.

  “Beast. I’m fine.” Grace kicks her feet a little as they dangle over the linoleum. “I love you, too. I missed you, too, but for the love of all that is holy, please put me down.”

  Grace is dressed oddly, in worn and dirty clothes, which I suppose is to be expected, but the rest of the group in the entry is just as odd. They’re all in black and is that a cape on Reese?

  I find my voice and put a hand on Grace’s shoulder. “You’ve got some explaining to do, young lady.”

  She eyes me from her perch. Beast has not put her down yet. Not sure how long till he will. He’s still shaking.

  “Am I missing something?” Fitz asks from down the hall. “Reese? Annabel? Why are y’all dressed like that?”

  Reese slides out from our midst over to Fitz and murmurs into his ear.

  “Beast, if you must, you can sit outside the door while I’m cleaning up, but I stink to high heaven and this is making me real uncomfortable.”

  He immediately releases her and steps back, keeping two giant paws on her shoulders.

  “You might need to disinfect yourself just for being in my proximity.” She wrinkles her nose and then her eyes run over the rest of us. “I’ll explain everything after I’ve washed my hair ten times. Jude, you got some clothes I could wear?”

  “I have some clothes in my room,” Reese puts in. “They might be a little on the big side but they’ll fit better than Jude’s.”

  Grace eyes Reese, then Annabel. “How many ladies you needin’ nowadays, Judas?”

  “Oh, Jude isn’t my boyfriend,” Reese interjects. “Fitz is my boyfriend, and while I do live here with Jude and Beast, I used to live here with Fitz but, well, it was a whole thing.”

  “Seems like we got a lot of catching up to do.” She puts her hands over Beast’s, who is still holding her by the shoulders like he’ll never let her go. But Grace knows exactly how to make him feel useful. “Make me some food? I’m starved.”

  Beast grips her one more time, his fingers flexing, and then he moves into the kitchen and the sounds of dishes clanking and cupboards slamming soon follow.

  Reese is already heading down the hall and motioning for Grace to follow. “I’ll show you the bathroom and get you some clean clothes.”

  Grace stops by me and smiles, gripping my arm for a second before turning to the ladies still standing in the entry. “Thank you. All of you.”

  Then she’s down the hall, following Reese, and I turn to Annabel and Taylor.

  “How the hell did this all happen?”

  While Grace is in the shower, Annabel gives me a quick rundown of their evening. We send Fitz and Taylor and Reese off to get pictures of the shed and then drop Taylor off at home before Chad gets off work. She agrees to keep things quiet, and they whisper something that sounds like “women airy,” but I can’t be sure.

  A half hour later, everyone is back in the living room. Grace is all scrubbed up and wearing baggy sweat pants and one of Reese’s T-shirts that reads I like big books and I cannot lie.

  We’re sitting in the living room because it’s the only place with enough seating for all of us. Grace is digging into a giant bowl of Beast’s famous jambalaya.

  Everyone is sitting, except Beast and I. Beast is standing behind Grace, his arms crossed over his chest, watching over her like he’ll kill anyone who gets within a five-foot radius. He even glared at Fitz when he handed her a napkin and a glass of water.

  I’m pacing back and forth, holding Mr. Bojangles in my arms to help me think.

  “Start at the beginning. Before you left Valdosta. What happened?”

  Grace takes a bite of her food and chews carefully. “You know I was working on the trap and track program.”

  “What’s that?” Fitz asks.

  “It’s a hidden code that basically detects any intrusions and then traces the path back to the source.”

  “Like a breach detection system?” Reese asks.

  “Sort of. Although BDSs are able to find and detect breaches, they don’t do anything other than notify the user of a threat. Once a breach is found, work must be done to eliminate the problem, and BDSs don’t trace breaches back to the origin because it’s often too convoluted to be an automated process. My software is better.” The words are spoken without ego, just matter-of-fact.

  “What made you come to Blue Falls?” Annabel asks.

  “I was testing my code on a system and someone found me.”

  “You got made?” I ask, surprised.

  “They were good,” she contends. “But I’m better. They tried to steal my code but only got half of it before I was able to shut it down. I tracked them to Blue Falls but quickly ran into a dead end. They were using a computer at the university.”

  Beast grunts and I know what he’s thinking so I ask for him. “And that made you hightail it all the way here and send us on a wild goose chase after you? Why didn’t you tell us right away so we could help?”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “I didn’t want y’all to get too involved.” She looks up at Beast. “I didn’t want you to be associated with me and then potentially in danger. And that wasn’t the only reason. I mean, yes, I needed to get back my stolen property. I didn’t want the thief to be figuring out the rest of my code and trying to pass it off as their own. But the more I dug, the more I found. One of the IPs I tracked back went through the sheriff’s office.”

  “So? It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen law enforcement dealing in something shifty.”

  “Well, when I kept pulling at the thread, there was even more odd activity. A large chunk of money being filtered through the university was coming from someone associated with the Cornbread Mafia.”

  “The Cornbread what?” Reese asks.

  “Southern-style mobsters,” I answer. “Started out as petty drug dealers, but they have been increasingly dipping their toes into cybercrime as a way to make money.” I turn back to Grace. “You think the mob is involved?” That would kick things up a notch.

  “Could be. I think this hacker maybe sold, or is trying to sell, my code to them. They already paid for something with a large price tag from what I can gather.”

  “Why would the mafia need code that detects breaches in systems? Seems like they’d want to make the breaches instead, right?” Annabel asks.

  “My guess is they want the code to take down their competition. They’ve been engaging in digital warfare with other up-and-coming groups, trying to protect their turf. Just like they would a rival drug dealer stealing their block IRL.”

  “So, whoever stole this code from you, they could be in a lot of trouble if they don’t deliver the whole thing.”

  She nods. “And the FBI were already here, poking around, which makes me think there are more players in this game than we can see. If the mob or even the FBI gets ahold of my code from this person . . . things could spin out of control. I have to get it back.”

  I rub my beard. “I get it.” Grace is her work. It’s her life. It’s what’s kept her and Beast alive. It gives her purpose. I don’t like it, but I get it. And her code in the hands of the mob could lead to bigger problems. The mafia is getting more and more into cybercrime, and data like this could affect a lot of lives beyond this room.

  “I couldn’t destroy what he stole remotely, so I had to come here. But then I needed help sorting some things, because there was a bit of a pyramid scheme combined with a real lack of tech locally, and it was hampering my abilities to pursue leads.”

  “Which is why you had us come up behind you to help,” I add.

  “I needed help, so thanks.” She smiles, one cheek dimpling like she’s thirteen again. “Anyway, whoever this person is, they figured out I was on their
tail right quick. And then a few days ago, someone put a notification out on Nextdoor how they would be out of town for a week and asked their neighbors to keep an eye out.”

  “And you just had to break in and use their place to crash.” A chuckle falls out of me. No wonder she got made.

  Grace is sheepish. “I needed a place to regroup for a few days. I don’t know how they caught me.”

  “You would if you’d been going to the township meetings,” Annabel puts in.

  Grace lifts her brows.

  “This is a small town. People talk. There have been reports of someone going into houses and making sandwiches.”

  Grace turns a soft hue of pink. “Didn’t think I left a trail. I’m better at covering virtual tracks than physical ones, apparently.”

  “So then what happened?” I ask.

  “Someone broke in while I was sleeping. I didn’t even see them. I was sleeping and then I woke up groggy with my hands tied behind my back. I got drugged.”

  Beast slams his foot against the hardwood floor.

  “Stop throwin’ a fit, ya big lug. I’m still alive. They couldn’t kill me quite yet since they might need me to get into my computer. I’m surprised they didn’t try to make me unlock it for them. Probably didn’t want me to know who they were. Or maybe they didn’t have time for a long, drawn-out interrogation session. They didn’t stop by often or stay long. I never saw a face at all. They were careful.” She leans her head back over the couch to look at him. “I think I was out of it for a few days. But then . . . it was a big guy, all covered up, but it felt like he had padding or something under his clothes. He put me in that shed and drugged me again so I slept through most of it. When I woke up, I even had food and water. It was like camping. Except grosser because I had to pee in a bucket. And I think the shed was soundproofed so my yelling and screaming got me a whole lotta nothing.”

  Beast shifts behind her, his fists clenching and unclenching, and I am inclined to agree with his nonverbal assessment of the situation. Even Mr. Bojangles squirms in my arms and I set him down. He sashays a figure eight through my legs and then hops over to Annabel, settling himself into her lap. I understand the urge.