by Gilian Baker
Blogging is Murder
A Jade Blackwell Mystery
By Gilian Baker
Copyright © 2017 by Gilian Baker. All rights reserved.
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Blogging is Murder: A Jade Blackwell Mystery
First Edition.
Acknowledgements
It would be impossible to thank everyone who’s made a contribution to my writing; however, this book would not exist without the support of the following people. I humbly bow to you all.
To my mom, Sue Aguilar, who was brave enough to read my first draft and still encouraged me to continue. To my dad, Jack Baker, from whom I got my yarn-spinning genes. I hope to one day be as proficient at telling tall tales as you.
To my friends who listened to endless ramblings about plot and characterization and the burdens of authorship—you know who you are: Liz, Myra, Ansel and Renee. Thanks to the crew at Mythos PR, specifically, Ryan Stabile (publicist and cheerleader extraordinaire and Elliot Next (book cover and logo designer) who’ve made the experience of getting my first manuscript out into the world less harrowing. To NaTyra Green for her proofreading expertize.
And most of all, to my husband, who has been my safe haven since I was sixteen years old. I wouldn’t be who I am today without your constant, undying love and support. And to our daughter, fellow writing geek and scholar. Thanks for brainstorming with me and for continually telling me I could do it when I was ready to give up.
Chapter One
“What on earth is going on?” Liz burst into tears.
“I don’t know where to start.” She wiped her eyes with a napkin.
“Well, try. You’re scaring me! Are the kids alright? Is Ron?”
“No, no. They’re fine… for now.”
Liz’s robust figure sat slumped in her chair at our usual table at the local tea house, Tea & Sympathy. Her usual coiffured hair and carefully applied makeup were absent today, and it looked suspiciously as though she’d slept in the clothes she was wearing.
“What the heck does that mean?” It came out louder than I’d meant, which caused the few other customers to look our way with obvious curiosity.
Liz Collins, a fellow blogger, and I had been good friends for several years now, ever since we’d met at a women’s internet marketing conference held in Denver. Even though we were in different phases of our lives, we’d immediately hit it off. We marveled that even though we’d lived in the same quiet little town, we’d never met before the conference. Since then, we’d been each other’s support system through the ups and downs of life as bloggers.
Liz took a deep breath, and the details of the catastrophe started tumbling out of her mouth. “You remember a while back when I told you I was getting strange emails from a fan of The Wise Housewife? Well, it’s gotten worse. She started sharing weird stuff in blog comments and on my social media channels. I mean, it’s gotten strange.”
“But I thought you’d handled that with a couple of response emails. You haven’t mentioned it since, so I thought it was dealt with.”
“I thought it was too. Or at least I talked myself into believing it was. But then it gradually all started in again, but worse.”
I scrunched up my forehead. “How do you mean ‘worse’?”
“Well, I’d already changed the comment setting on the blog to ‘moderate’ so I was able to just delete the remarks she left that I didn’t want everyone to see. But to encourage interaction, I had very few privacy settings in place on my social media accounts, and she started making bizarre comments there.”
She trailed off as Millie Harris, the octogenarian who owns Tea & Sympathy, energetically moved towards us with her notepad out.
Millie offered up one of her genuine smiles. “I haven’t seen you in here for ages, ladies! I guess your businesses and families keep you plenty busy.”
I smiled back while Liz attempted one though it looked more like a grimace. “Oh, they do, Millie. But you know we come in every chance we get. Can I get a pot of Earl Grey, please?”
“Of course, Jade. How about you, Liz? Would you like more chamomile or maybe some of your favorite shortbread to go with your cuppa? I just made it fresh this morning,” she sang.
“No thanks, Millie.” Liz stared at her teacup with an unfocused gaze like she’d never seen it before. She picked it up, took an obligatory sip and set it back on the table. “This pot is still plenty, and I’m trying to cut back on my sugar intake.”
“Alrighty, then. I’ll be back in a few. Jade, how about you? Can I tempt you with some shortbread?”
“Of course! I’m not worried about my sugar intake, though I guess I should be.” We both chuckled, and Millie moved off towards the kitchen at a surprisingly clipped pace.
“I didn’t really want shortbread, but I figured it would keep her happy so she’d leave us in peace for a while.” I put on a sheepish grin. Liz, of course, saw through my excuse, but was too dazed to mention it.
“Okay, go on. You obviously have more to tell, otherwise you wouldn’t be so upset. Did you sleep at all last night? You look like ten miles of dirt road, no offense.”
“No, not a wink. And neither did Ron. We stayed up late into the night discussing this… nightmare. We didn’t want to talk about it in front of the kids.”
“Okay. Spill it!”
She took another deep breath, willing herself to go on. “Well, I kept trying different things to control the situation… got help from my website hosting service and the social media companies, and it would stop it for a while. And then she—her name’s Connie, that’s her name—would find a way around the new security measures, and be right back at it.”
Millie came over with my pot of tea and shortbread on the fine bone china she used. I suddenly realized how hungry I was.
“Thanks, Millie. We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
“My pleasure. I’ll leave you girls to chat.” She continued to stand there. She wasn’t leaving until I fully appreciated her skills in the kitchen.
I picked up my fork and cut off a sizable chunk of shortbread. As I raised it to my lips, I could smell the sweet, spiciness of vanilla and cinnamon. After taking a bite, I moaned out loud. “You’ve outdone yourself, Millie! I wish I could bake like you.”
Millie turned to speak over her shoulder. “Oh, you could dear, if you tried. But busy women like you keep my mad money rolling in.” She cackled to herself and continued back to the kitchen.
I sure hoped I had that much energy when I was her age, I thought, smiling over at Liz. Liz tried to smile back.
Glancing over at Liz’s bleak expression, I came back to the reality of the serious situation. “Go on.”
“Well, she hacked into the admin controls on my social media accounts! I suddenly started seeing social media updates that claimed to be posted by me, but they weren’t.”
“You’re kidding. That is spooky.”
“No kidding. This lady is nuts! I contacted each social media company and had a ban put on any updates that were coming from her IP address. Again, that worked for a while, but it started happening again a couple of weeks later. Then, I started seeing actual posts on my blog from someone else, but authored by me. She’s actually managed to hack into my blog admin panel so she can control the whole blog.” This last part came out a little st
rangled, but I couldn’t blame her.
“Oh, my gosh, Liz. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? How long has this been going on?”
She soothed her dry throat by taking a sip of tea before answering. “It started a few months ago, when I first mentioned it to you, and then it escalated. Before all this she was sweet. I don’t know. It’s like some evil being has taken over her mind, and now she’s fixated on me and my business. I’ve started getting private messages from other fans asking me if everything’s okay. They can hear that the tone of my updates and posts has changed. Everything she writes vacillates from sickeningly sweet to outright weird.”
“So what are you going to do? What does Ron think?”
She was forgetting to breathe while talking, and so took another gigantic breath. “Well, last night we decided to bring the sheriff in because she showed up on our doorstep.”
“What?”
“Yeah, that’s why we were so freaked out. But we didn’t want to make a scene in front of the kids, so we decided to go to the sheriff station today to see what Ross recommended. He’s never dealt with cyber-crime, but that’s not surprising, in such a rural area. You know even though he tries to stay up with current issues in law enforcement, theory is one thing, but dealing with something new is altogether different.”
Ross Lawson was our local sheriff and an all-around good guy. He was a hometown boy, who my husband Christian and I had grown up. He might not have handled this type of situation before, but he’d do his best to help, no doubt about it.
“So, what did he say?”
“First, we made an official complaint. I have to print out all of the correspondence from my hosting and the social media companies. I also need to copy the updates from the blog and social media that I claim Connie has added, so that there is proof in our file. Oh, my gosh, Jade. I have a file at the sheriff’s office.” She dropped her head into her hands as I grabbed for her tea cup before she tipped it over.
Reaching over the table, I patted her arm, making the usual comforting noises while she cried. Though I was comforting her, I was inwardly totally wigging out! How could someone do that to her? She was the kindest, most generous person I’d ever met. Why would someone decide to invade her life like that? The lady was crazy. That was all there was to it. Why else would someone go to the trouble of hacking online accounts? Were mine safe? I needed to take immediate action when I got home.
I stopped patting. “Wait a minute. This Connie woman showed up on your doorstep last night. How on earth did she find out where you lived?”
Her red face looked up, her eyes peeking at me through her eyelashes. “My physical address is still on my accounts. You know that legally you have to have an address listed on the emails that you send to your subscribers.”
I nodded knowingly, with a sinking feeling of what was coming next.
“I always meant to get a P.O. Box, Jade, but it always got pushed back on the priority list. I mean, with all the other stuff you have to do as a blogger, it just didn’t seem that important, even though I’d read other people’s stories about similar situations. I guess in the back of my mind I just didn’t believe anyone would do it to me.”
She paused long enough to blow her nose loud enough to make several patrons turn and look. “I’m not some huge celebrity, although the blog is gaining popularity. Whenever I thought about it, I figured I’d wait till I had more followers, then it would be worth the added expense and effort.”
Liz was being modest. Her blog, The Wise Housewife, was a big success. It catered to women who chose to stay at home and raise their children instead of working outside the home. The blog supplied them with thrifty recipes, home remedies for common ailments, unique ways to economize and homemade cleaning recipes. There was a growing faction of families choosing to live on one income so their children wouldn’t be raised by a stranger. Liz had tapped into that market, being one of those women herself.
“Oh, Liz. Don’t blame yourself. I’ve been doing exactly the same thing. In fact, we’ve all heard those stories. But in every case, those savvy online entrepreneurs didn’t take action until someone came to their house either.” I made a mental note to hit the post office PDQ to get the P.O. Box I’d been procrastinating.
“Part of me knows that, and Ron doesn’t blame me, but I keep thinking about the kids. I should have been protecting my family, Jade. But something else always seemed more urgent.”
“I know.” I patted her arm again. “What else did Ross suggest?”
“We started the process to get a restraining order against her so if she shows up again, they can do something. The online stuff is less cut and dried. The law’s having a hard time keeping up with technology. But Ross promised to research the situation. There’s got to be some kind of laws for stealing identities, and that is what she has done… but we aren’t sure what the legal definition of ‘identity theft’ is. A lot will depend on that.”
“Well, you know I’ll do whatever I can to help. Just give me a call.”
Liz blew her nose again, this time with barely a sound and gave me a more genuine smile. “I know, Jade. And I feel better just talking about it. I just feel so helpless.”
“I know. But now that you have Ross involved, you have the law on your side.”
“Yes.” Her tone was uncertain, and I didn’t blame her. The law often seems to afford more rights to the criminals than to the victims.
Liz looked at her watch and sniffed. “Oh, man. I’ve gotta get going. School lets out soon.” She looked up at me with wet, hazel eyes. “Thanks so much for dropping everything to meet me, Jade. I know you must have a hundred other things on your plate today.”
“Don’t be silly, Liz! Family and friends always come first.” As the words came out of my mouth, my mind went to my huge to-do list that had just gotten longer… now I needed to add “keep people from hacking my life” to it.
Chapter Two
I drove home swerving around switchbacks like a race car driver, convinced that in the scant time I’d been away, someone had hacked into my business accounts. I was so lost in thought it was only when the smell of venison roast wafted towards me I realized I’d forgotten to pick up the super-nut fudge brownies and French bread from Tea & Sympathy. Shoot! I had been planning to serve them with supper.
Tucked back up in the sanctity of my home office, I realized I’d let my imagination run wild. It was unlikely that Internet trolls had chosen the exact time I’d left the house to take over my blog. Smiling at my foolishness, I felt my toes relax—they were no longer digging into the southwestern print rug that dressed up my office floor.
This was one of my favorite rooms in the log home Christian had built for us twelve years ago. It had a big bay window that faced east, so I got to watch the sunrise as I worked. He had even built in a window seat after I’d begged long enough. There’s nothing better than curling up there to ponder while sipping a hot cup of strong English Breakfast.
The room was large enough to accommodate my enormous oak desk, complete with plenty of cubbyholes and drawers, and my comfy chair-and-a half with matching ottoman. That’s where I did my most serious writing. Our cats, Tommy and Tuppence, were hard at work napping on said cozy chair. If they could talk, I’m sure they’d claim to be dreaming up brilliant new blog topics.
I spent the next several hours changing passwords to complicated combinations of random numbers, letters and symbols after subscribing to a password manager program. Next, I added two-step authentication and any other security measures available to my social media and other online accounts.
Feeling smug at my progress, I even tackled our personal financial accounts. I didn’t have access to Blackwell Contraction, the family business Christian had inherited from his dad, so I emailed his assistant and asked her to take care of it.
Christian, my childhood sweetheart and husband of twenty-four years, took great pride in his work. Though he was no business man himself, he had a team of folks who were, ma
king it possible for us to weather the economic storms of the last several years. His integrity and strong work ethic ensured that our daughter Penelope, or Ellie as she preferred, could go to college without accruing huge student debt.
It had also provided me with the financial cushion to start my online business when I was sick to death of academic life. I’d started with Professor’s Pen, a ghostwriting service for online entrepreneurs. After I’d gotten a few steady clients, I’d added A Writerz Block, a blog that provides tips to writers looking for online work as another branch of my business. Without Christian’s hard work, our lives would’ve been very different.
Thinking of him made me check my clock. It was later than I thought—a constant issue when you work from home. When you don’t punch a time clock and when only you’re responsible for your income, you lose track of time. Content with my progress on the security home front, I shut everything down for the day and headed downstairs to the kitchen.
Stirring the pot of roast and veggies, I realized I still hadn’t gotten crusty French bread out of the back porch freezer. Looking up close I spied little ice crystals, but it wasn’t too bad. I’d keep mum and hope Christian was so hungry he wouldn’t notice if it was a tiny bit freezer burned.
Once the bread was warming, I worked on a salad while mulling over further cyber-security. I wondered what the state and federal laws for cyber-threats was. Did small businesses have protection under them? Before starting my business a few years ago, I’d done perfunctory research, but since then, I’d turned everything over to my lawyer and accountant. Now I wanted to know enough to keep me and my family safe from the issues Liz was dealing with. Tomorrow I’d contact Gabrielle Langdon, our lawyer, to set up a meeting to discuss what was what.
I was setting the salad on the table when Christian dragged himself through the door. His dark, curly hair was full of sawdust and his clothes were grimy. He mumbled a hello and walked right past me. When I heard the shower start, I turned the oven off, so the bread wasn’t dried out and hard and freezer burnt.
