“Blaine Warner?” Bess whispered back to Nancy. “The legal eagle from your dad’s office? Do you think she’s following you?”
“I didn’t notice anyone following me on my way here,” Nancy said. “It might just be a dinner date. Can you see who she’s with?”
“Some cute guy,” Bess said, smiling. “Curly brown hair, nice looking. I guess being a lawyer isn’t all bad.”
“I can’t believe they might have overheard our whole conversation,” Nancy said. She pulled Bess toward the restaurant exit. “Let’s just slip out, in case she didn’t notice me,” Nancy said. “I’d rather not make introductions right now.”
The two girls quietly moved toward the door of the restaurant and exited into the cool evening. They turned left to walk into the computer coffeehouse called Art.Café. There, standing right in front of them, as if he had been waiting for them, was Byron Thomas!
6
Well-Kept Secrets
“Byron!” Nancy exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, nothing,” Byron mumbled. “I, um, was just meeting a friend for coffee.”
“Oh, at the Art-Dot-Café?” Bess asked, smiling warmly at the intense young man. “That’s just where we’re going.”
“Byron, this is my friend Bess Marvin,” Nancy said. “Bess, this is Byron Thomas, the law intern at my dad’s office. Sorry to jump like that, Byron, but you did startle me.”
“Nice to meet you, Bess,” Byron said, shaking her hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I, um, just didn’t expect to see you down here.”
“Me, either,” Nancy said. “So, what’s this Art-Dot-Café like, anyway? Bess here has only heard about it on the Internet, and we were going to try it out.”
“I’m going to—um—another place, up the street,” Byron said quickly. “A few blocks away. Not here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Nancy.” He hurried up the block.
Nancy and Bess looked after him. “What was that all about?” Bess asked. “River Heights isn’t such a small town that you run into two people from your dad’s office in one night. Are they working together, maybe? Do you think they’re tailing you?”
Nancy laughed. “I can’t imagine Byron Thomas and Blaine Warner working together on anything they don’t have to. And Blaine was pretty tough on Byron today. Besides, Blaine’s still inside the restaurant, and Byron’s walking up the block. Who’s following me now?”
“Maybe Henry Yi is behind that tree,” Bess said with a grin. “Anyway, enough mystery for tonight. Let’s go get a cappuccino at Art-Dot-Café.”
The two girls entered the small coffee bar. They admired the gleaming espresso machine on the bar, and the gleaming computer monitors stationed at each of the small wrought-iron tables. The computer wires disappeared into holes in the floor, under the tables. The walls were decorated with modern paintings, and soft classical music was being played.
Small groups of two and three people gathered around each screen, laughing and talking over their steaming coffee drinks as they tapped away on their keyboards.
“This is cool,” Nancy said.
“It’s just like they said it would be on-line. It’s absolutely fabulous,” Bess said. “I can’t wait to tell my friends in the chat group that I actually came here.”
Bess and Nancy approached the coffee bar, and ordered mocha cappuccinos with extra cinnamon. When they received their frothy drinks, Bess stirred in two teaspoons of raw light brown sugar, while Nancy dusted the top of hers with cocoa powder.
“Delicious,” Nancy said, taking a sip of the chocolaty concoction. “Now, let’s find a table and you can show me a thing or two.”
“Great,” Bess said. They stood for a few minutes drinking their cappuccinos as they waited for a table to open up. Finally a young couple rose from their station and walked toward the exit. Bess and Nancy moved into the space they had vacated.
“Look,” Bess said. “The computer’s already logged on to one of the Internet services. Let’s browse around and look for some interesting chat groups.”
Nancy watched as her friend expertly scrolled through the different screens.
“Yikes,” Nancy said, as she read the names of some of the chat rooms. “Some of these groups sound scary.”
“Yeah,” Bess agreed. “Actually, you have to be really careful on-line. You shouldn’t give out your home address or phone number, or let anyone know that you’ll be out of town on a certain date. Let’s log on to my computer users’ group.”
The monitor in front of them read, “Welcome to the Computer Users’ Forum. Warning: Do not give anyone your password or billing information.” Below this it scrolled dozens of names with computer-related questions and answers following behind.
“How does this work?” Nancy asked.
“Each person is identified by a screen name, at the left,” Bess explained. “Then you type something in here, press the Enter key, and it appears for everyone to read.”
“What’s that?” Nancy asked, pointing to a strange symbol on the screen: :-)
“Ha!” Bess laughed. “Turn your head to the side and you can see what it is. It’s someone smiling. Get it?”
“That’s great,” Nancy said, laughing.
Nancy watched, fascinated, as the on-line conversation continued in front of her eyes. She read simple questions from novice computer users that even she could answer, and she read complicated questions from computer experts who used words Nancy didn’t understand at all.
“Wow,” Nancy said. “It seems like all kinds of people use this bulletin board.”
“Yeah,” Bess agreed. “It’s the best forum to learn stuff about computers, from the most basic to the most advanced. That’s why I thought we’d find someone here who could answer our questions about tracking your E-mail criminal on-line.”
“I see something repeated over and over,” Nancy observed. “What does that mean?” She pointed to a line on the screen: Refer to [email protected]
“FAQs is short for ‘frequently asked questions,’ ” Bess explained. “Most new computer users ask the same things over and over, so it’s easier to refer them to an answer sheet than reply personally to each one. The rest of the line tells people where to find the list.”
“Are only people in River Heights on-line here, or from around the country?” Nancy asked.
“Around the world,” Bess answered. “But there are local bulletin boards, too, where we can chat with people only in the neighborhood.”
“I think that would make more sense for us,” Nancy said.
“Okay,” Bess said. “I’ll post a notice in the local computer users’ newsgroup. If people around here can help us, they’ll post a response, and we can check if we got an answer when we meet in the office tomorrow night.”
“Wait a sec,” Nancy said as Bess’s hands flew over the keyboard. “Don’t give out any private information, like that the problem is in my dad’s office, or even that it’s law related. And you said we can’t give out our phone numbers. Remember that warning at the top of the screen not to give out your password.”
“I know that, Nan. Don’t worry,” Bess said. “How’s this?” she asked, showing Nancy what she was going to post.
Seeking help to track E-mail from one place to another: who sent it, who received it, was it sent in-house or from outside. Please reply
“Perfect,” Nancy said. “It doesn’t give away anything—except your E-mail address at the end, right?”
“Right,” Bess confirmed, using her mouse to move the cursor onto the Send button, and posting the note. “And even if someone can track my E-mail address, there’s no way to connect me with your dad’s firm.”
“All right, that sounds pretty safe. Show me some more of those computer thingies,” Nancy requested.
“Sure,” Bess said. “I don’t need to be on-line to do that. In fact, I printed out a list of them from my on-line computer chat guide. I have it right here.
“Uh-oh,” Bess said sudd
enly, twisting her wrist to glance at her watch. “It’s almost nine o’clock. I’ve got to run home so I can log on to my chat group, or I’ll miss the discussion.”
“Can’t you leave me the list?” Nancy asked. “I’d really like to see it.”
“I’m sorry, Nance,” Bess said. “I’m going to need to refer to it tonight. I promise I’ll bring it to the office tomorrow evening.”
“Great,” Nancy said. “I’ve got to go now, too. I promised my dad I’d be at work early tomorrow. But can’t you just relax and log on to your group here?”
“I could, but I won’t have my personal screen name or my printer. I like to download stuff sometimes and read it later. I’ve really got to run.”
Bess quickly exited the local computer users’ mail group, where she had posted the notice seeking an on-line expert to trace computer E-mail activity, and logged off the machine.
The girls sipped the last of their cappuccinos, long since cold, and started to leave the café. As they walked out, Nancy asked Bess, “Do you think someone will see that note you posted in the local computer users’ mail group and send you an answer?”
“Probably,” Bess said. “People on-line love to help one another.”
“Or hurt one another,” Nancy said, thinking of their earlier conversations about dangerous people and places on the Internet.
Blaine Warner was leaving the Sacred Cow next door at the same time the two girls were coming out of the Art.Café coffee bar. She nodded hello to Nancy, then continued up the street alone.
“That’s the woman from your dad’s office,” Bess whispered. “What happened to her date?”
“I don’t know,” Nancy said. “Maybe he couldn’t take too much of her, either, so he ran out early and left her with the check.”
The two girls laughed, and said good night. Then they walked their separate ways home.
• • •
The next day Nancy went into the office early. Since she was alone in the library, she decided to research the backgrounds, specifically any criminal cases, of her father’s clients who had recently settled claims quickly.
Nancy pulled out her list of the clients’ names and scanned the heavy red legal folders where the old cases were stored. “Let’s see . . . Bob Jamison . . . James Fox . . . Jeannette King . . . Harriet Wasser . . . here they are.”
The first thing Nancy noticed was that the files were all free of dust, even though some of the cases were several years old. Either the janitorial staff here is very thorough, Nancy thought, or someone else looked at these files recently and wiped them off.
Nancy sat down with the thick files and began to flip through the papers inside. As she read she discovered that in each case there was information from a previous criminal case that could possibly harm the client in the current case.
Bob Jamison, the contractor who had been injured falling off a ladder, had had a similar injury from an old car accident. That might cause a problem in the new case, Nancy thought. Jeannette King, the bank manager who had been going to sue for job discrimination, had been wrongly accused of stealing money when she had been a teller. Carson Drew had got her an acquittal, but Nancy thought Ms. King’s background might hurt her in the new case, and she probably didn’t want to have the old charges brought up again.
James Fox, the councilman with the get-tough-on-crime policy, had a drunken driving conviction that had come out during his previous case. He sure wouldn’t want anything like that to come out, Nancy thought. And Harriet Wasser, the landlord who had sold her building to her tenants, had been indicted for not providing heat in the middle of winter.
It sure looks as though all of these people have a reason not to want to go to court again, Nancy thought. I have to talk to them and find out why they’re so scared. Maybe someone from Williams & Brown got hold of this information and threatened them with leaking it if they didn’t settle quickly.
As Nancy sat there, looking at the files, Henry walked in. “Good morning,” he said cheerily. “What are you doing, Nancy?” he asked. “I thought you were just backing up computer files.”
“Well,” Nancy said, thinking fast, “I also have to file the paperwork connected with the cases, so I was just studying the old files to see how you like to organize stuff here.”
Henry looked at the names on the files and raised his eyebrows. “These are all the same people who are in those cases you’re cleaning off the computer, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” Nancy replied, closing the files carefully. “The new cases are all civil cases, which my father doesn’t usually handle unless he has a history with the client.”
“I’ve got to make some copies for Blaine,” Henry said, changing the subject, to Nancy’s relief. He left the law library, and Nancy put away the files on the storage shelf. Then she sat down at her computer and began the file-copying work she had started the day before. But her mind was wrapped up in the E-mail mystery.
Nancy didn’t hear Blaine Warner enter the library until Blaine was standing right behind her. “Could you make copies of these documents for me?” Blaine asked, slapping down a thick pile of court papers by Nancy’s keyboard. “It’s Henry’s job, but I can’t find him anywhere. I need them for a court appearance today.”
Nancy was irritated at having her work disturbed and at Blaine’s manner, but she picked up the stack of papers. “I just saw Henry a few minutes ago,” Nancy said. “He said he had to make some copies for you. But I’ll get them started until he shows up.” Then she headed for the copy room.
“Drop them in my office, stapled and collated,” Blaine called after Nancy.
“Yes, ma’am,” Nancy muttered. Blaine could really be annoying, she thought.
Nancy entered the copy room and sighed. Whoever had used it last had left a big mess on the machine. It must have been Henry, Nancy thought. She put down the stack of papers from Blaine on the paper supply shelf, careful to keep them in order, and then began to gather the papers from the top of the copying machine.
Once Nancy had the surface of the machine cleared, she took the first of Blaine’s documents and used the staple remover to pull out the heavy-duty staples. Then she placed the stack of papers into the document feeder.
The machine hummed and clicked, but the papers didn’t start feeding through the copier. Nancy noticed a light on the control panel and looked at the readout that gave the following operator message: “Remove original from document glass.”
Someone must have left something in the copier, Nancy thought. She removed the stack of papers from the document feeder and placed them carefully on the shelf. Then she lifted up the cover to see what was inside.
There, on the glass, was a handwritten list of all the clients whose cases had been settled early—in Henry Yi’s distinctive script!
7
Trailed!
Nancy stood open-mouthed, the incriminating list of familiar names in her hand. Then she quickly put the handwritten document back in the copying machine and made a copy for herself. She had just removed the copy from the paper tray and placed it on the shelf next to Blaine’s work, when she heard someone enter the room behind her.
“Nancy!” Henry cried, startling her. “Just the person I wanted to see.”
“Oh, Henry,” Nancy said.
“No, that’s a candy bar,” he said with a laugh. “But I assure you, I’m just as sweet. I think I left something in here before,” he continued.
“You sure did,” Nancy said, opening the cover of the copying machine. “I was making some copies for Blaine—because she couldn’t find you—and I discovered this in the copier. I recognized your handwriting; it’s so unusual. What are you doing with a list of all my father’s clients whose cases were settled early?”
Now it was Henry’s turn to be startled. Then he smiled, a little too easily, Nancy thought.
“Well, when I found out that’s what you were working on, I thought I’d do a little research, just so we’d have something to tal
k about,” Henry said smoothly. “Get to know each other a little better, you know.”
Nancy just looked at him, hands on her hips. She realized she’d better hide her copy of his list. She turned her back to Henry and restacked some papers on the shelf. She asked him, “So, what do you think?”
“About what?” Henry asked innocently. Nancy could feel him watching her back.
“The cases,” Nancy replied, turning toward him again with several sheets of blank copy paper hiding her copy of Henry’s list. “The ones that settled early. The ones on your list.” She brushed past Henry to leave the copy room. Nancy headed for the law library, where she had left her leather portfolio beside her computer station.
Henry answered as he followed her up the hallway, his original list in his hand. “Well, it’s a little odd they all settled so early, don’t you agree?” he asked nervously.
“Yes, I do,” Nancy said as she stuffed the papers into her portfolio, her back still to Henry. “And so does my father.” She turned around to look at him and noticed that his eyes were glued to her computer screen. Is he trying to look at my files again? Nancy wondered.
“I know,” Henry replied almost smugly.
Nancy looked at him. What is this guy up to? she wondered. “I don’t think you started this list after I came to work here. I think you’ve had it for some time.”
“What makes you say that?” Henry asked defensively.
Nancy didn’t have a chance to answer, because Blaine came storming into the library at that moment.
“Nancy, Henry, what are the two of you doing standing around talking again?” Blaine demanded angrily. “I stopped by the copy room, and saw all my documents sitting on the shelf, Nancy. And really, Henry, you should be doing that work, anyway. I pulled Nancy off her computer filing because I couldn’t find you.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Warner,” Henry said, putting his handwritten list under a stack of papers next to his computer. “Sorry, Nancy. I didn’t realize you were stuck with my work. I’ll get on it right away.” He quickly exited the computer room, leaving Blaine and Nancy alone.
The E-Mail Mystery (Nancy Drew Book 144) Page 4
