* * *
Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains. Jen rubbed her eyes and snapped to a sitting position. The digital clock displayed 10:37 am. She had set her iPad alarm, but it hadn’t gone off. Where was it?
She hobbled to the dresser and searched around the nightstand. Her laptop was also missing. It and the iPad belonged to the company. She grabbed her crutches and stepped down the hallway to the kitchen. Empty. She opened the door to the garage. The white Camry sat there, but the SUV was gone.
Jen’s hands shook as she put in her contact lenses. Her eyes were still too irritated to wear them overnight. She should have asked Dave to take her home yesterday, especially after he went on the rant about the nanny. But by the time they returned from Santa Cruz, Dave was late to his Marketing meeting. She’d gone to bed before he returned, afraid to meet him in the hallway.
“I’m Into You” belted from her cell. The number from her apartment. She answered it.
“Jen?” Sherry’s voice drawled, sounding tired. “I know you told me not to bother you, but Saturday a bunch of people came from work and took all your things.”
“Thanks for calling. I got everything including the cell. Did you change my ringtone?”
“I don’t even like that kind of music.” Sherry smacked on her gum.
Prickles scratched the back of Jen’s scalp. Something wasn’t right. Jen hadn’t told Sherry what the ringtone was. In fact, she had never given Sherry her cell phone number.
“Jen, you still there?” Sherry said. “I’m wondering if you’re ditching this place. I can’t afford the rent on my own.”
Jen propped her crutch on the counter and opened the refrigerator. “You should look around. I’m planning on moving my sister in with me once she gets her driver’s license.”
There was silence for a moment. “Well, sure. You’re the one with the lease. But I wanted to ask you, since you aren’t going to be around, can I invite a friend over for Thanksgiving?”
Jen poured herself a glass of nonfat milk. “Wait, how do you know I’m not coming back for Thanksgiving?”
“Your coworkers packed your clothes,” Sherry said. “They said your boss wanted to keep an eye on you.”
Great, just great. He sure wasn’t keeping a good eye on her right now. What if the thugs returned? Jen looked at the replacement windows. Dave hadn’t even removed the stickers.
“Well?” Sherry asked. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, right,” Jen said. “Don’t leave a mess.”
“We won’t. I owe you a turkey casserole.”
“Sure, I’ll look forward to it.” She put the milk back and closed the fridge door. “By the way, do you have an email address?”
“Email? You mean on a computer?”
“Yes.” Jen sipped the milk. “You do know how to set up an account, right?”
“Uh… I’m an old waitress at a country western bar. I still remember when telephones had dials. Listen, honey, I’ll try not to call you too much. Bye.”
Sherry hung up. Well, that sounded suspicious. She wasn’t that old. But then she didn’t own a computer. Possibly Dave was being overly paranoid. Some old flame he couldn’t remember was giving him a hard time. Jen wasn’t about to join the growing list of star-struck females.
She called Praveena’s cell. It went to voicemail.
“Hi, Praveena, it’s Jen. I’m stuck at the castle of the Beast. He’s taken my laptop and iPad, and I can’t log in. Can you come at lunch and bust me out of here?” She clicked off the phone.
Her thoughts returned to Santa Cruz. She’d forget the tender scene right before he went ballistic about the stupid nanny. The familiar ache returned. Abby was gone without a trace. And it was her fault.
Jen checked herself in the mirror. The plastic surgery had done wonders, erased her acne scars, straightened her nose and defined her cheekbones. She picked at the tiny mole on the side of her jaw. She should have had it removed, but her mother had always called it her special beauty mark. What if he recognized her? Panicking sparks jittered around her waist. She had to leave before he returned.
She called Praveena again.
Praveena answered on the first ring. “Jen, have you heard?”
“No, what?”
“Jewell fired Greta. The builds were all broken last night. The database crashed, and the transactional system deadlocked. The event routing ran out of threads, and auto-update thrashed all the test machines. We have to reimage all of them by hand.”
Jen dropped her crutch and slumped into the sofa. Greta was her boss and mentor. If Dave had fired her, it meant she was no longer protected.
“Jen, are you there?” Praveena’s voice piped through the phone, sounding worried.
“Am I fired too?”
“I don’t think so. Lisa and Bruce are coming to take you to work. Jewell says nobody goes home until the software is stabilized and uploaded in time for Black Friday. Why’s he keeping you at his house, and why are you calling him the Beast?”
The story was too long. How could she tell anyone about the blood under the car? Or that she had been with Rey the night he died? Or that Dave had kissed her like she was the last woman alive?
A half-truth would have to suffice. “I was attacked this weekend. He thinks there are gangsters after me. They stole a USB flash with corrupt code.”
“Hey, Jen, I gotta go. Wei wants me to review code with him.” Click.
Wow, did she miss the punch line or something?
Jen tucked her cell phone into her purse and waited for Lisa. The landline rang and rang and rang. She let the call go to the answering machine. The computerized voice said, “We’ve had your daughter for six years. Now it’s time to pay up. No police. Follow the directions exactly or—”
Chills sprinkled over Jen’s shoulders. She picked up the receiver from the cradle. “Or you’ll what?”
The line went silent. Jen held her breath.
“Who are you?” the voice said.
Jen calmed her breathing. There was no way they had Abby without the police finding them. She settled on the couch. “Whatever you’re trying to do, it isn’t working. I don’t believe you have the baby.”
“Baby? She’s six years old now, and yes, I know where she is.”
Jen’s entire body stiffened. “Where?”
“Why should I talk to the hired help?” The computerized voice cackled. “Put me through to Mr. Jewell.”
Something about the voice raised Jen’s hackles. A metallic acid bubbled to her throat. She swallowed deeply, took a silent breath and relaxed her vocal cords. “How do I know you’re the kidnapper?”
“I didn’t say I was the kidnapper. But I know what happened.”
Jen tapped her good foot on the coffee table, her heart beating off rhythm. “Tell me who kidnapped Abby Jewell, or be a good citizen and go to the police.”
The voice cleared its computer-altered throat. “Why should I? You’re the nanny. You go to the police.”
How could he know she was the nanny? Unless Rey told him.
“I’m going to call the police.” Jen bluffed.
An electronic laugh emitted from the phone. “Sure you will, nanny. I’ve already left my calling card on your stomach. You should have played nice with Rey.”
Sweat popped over Jen’s nose. She squeezed her fingers around the receiver. She had played nice with Rey and look what happened. Now she’d make her own demands. “Give me Abby Jewell, and I’ll get you what you want. How do I know you really have her?”
“You’re not in a position to call the shots. Have you ever wondered how you got your job at Shopahol? Sweetie, I won’t blow your cover as long as you cooperate.”
“Sure…” Jen exhaled into the receiver. What did any of this have to do with her getting the job? An itch traveled through her inner ear. Maybe she took the job because she wanted to keep in touch with Dave, to do anything she could to atone for her big mistake. Or maybe she was plain stupid
. Tears wet her eyes.
“Good. Remember, we know what you did.” The line clicked.
Shit, shit, shit. Jen couldn’t stop shaking. Time ticked, seconds and then minutes, but the phone stayed silent. If she could only go back to that horrid day. She grabbed a crutch and stumbled to the kitchen and found the jasmine tea in the back corner of the cabinet needing a lazy-susan. The same tea she had served her visitor six years ago.
Chapter 16
Dave reached for a cup of cold coffee. Running engineering 24/7 was exhausting.
“The catering truck is here with dinner.” Lisa dropped a bundle of envelopes on his desk. “Here’s your mail.”
Without looking up from the test reports, Dave said, “Didn’t I tell you to sort through them first?”
“There’s a padded envelope marked URGENT on the front. If it’s an anthrax bomb, let me get out of here before you trigger it.” Lisa laughed at her own joke and sashayed back to her desk. At least someone was on meds around here.
Dave picked up the envelope. Big bold letters were slashed across the tan bubble pack with a skull-and-crossbones scribbled next to his name. David “Pirate” Jewell.
He tore the package open. A memory stick dropped out. A note read. “Surprise, surprise, surprise. We really do have your little girl after all. Follow the instructions exactly. No police, or we hurt her. We’re watching your every move.”
Dave looked over his shoulder and spied Lisa leaning against the doorframe. How long had she been there?
“Lisa! When did this come in?”
Lisa smacked her bubblegum. “No idea. It was left at the front door. No carrier labels as far as I can see.”
He waved her back to her desk and shut the door. After drawing the shades, he put the memory stick into his computer. A slideshow started with pictures of a five or six-year-old girl playing in the park, petting a goat at a zoo, riding a tricycle, opening presents and blowing candles from a birthday cake.
Dave rubbed his face and blew out a breath. He couldn’t tell if the girl was Abby or not. The girl’s skin was fair, not brown like Jocelyn’s. Her round eyes had a slight slant. She had straight dark-brown hair and she looked happy. Happy and well cared for. He flipped through all the pictures. Not one showed another person. The background could be any park in America. The goats in any petting zoo. The cakes and presents, the Christmas tree, generic.
An ache seized his heart. Had the kidnappers sold her to an American couple? Maybe Jocelyn’s parents were innocent after all. He had accused them and hounded them until her entire family cut off contact with him. Yet an anonymous tip had said a man took a baby girl to the Philippines. What should he do?
He zipped up the pictures and emailed them to Phil, his attorney. This was the first break he got in the case. He needed to talk to someone, bounce off ideas. But right now, he couldn’t take Lisa’s jokes or his therapist’s calming voice. He clicked Jen’s avatar on the instant messaging app.
* * *
Jen tied her hair with the elastic band that kept slipping. “Lester, we’re ready for another build. Wei checked in the fix to the deadlock problem. Can you start it?”
“Hey, dinner’s here,” Satish said. “Wanna go over to Big Chill? I can help you with your laptop.”
“Sure, can you grab an outlet? The battery’s low and I have to take care of a few things.” Jen handed him the laptop, picked up her crutches, and headed toward the women’s room.
“Wait,” Satish said. The pinging of the instant message app sounded from her laptop. “Jewell wants you in his office.”
“Tell him I’ll be right there.” She hopped toward the women’s room. She couldn’t remember the last time she went. A misconfiguration by Lester corrupted the latest branch, and she had just finished labeling the approved check-ins.
After washing her hands, she headed for Dave’s office. Consternation threaded through her nerves. Had he discovered her identity? Lisa was not at her desk, so she knocked on his door.
He opened it and let her in, shutting the door behind her. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was rumpled and standing at odd angles. He pointed to his monitor, seemingly too exhausted to speak. A slideshow of a small girl played in a loop.
Jen dropped her crutches and sank into a chair in front of the desk. She stared at the rolling pictures. “They have her?”
“It came in the mail today.”
“Oh God, is it Abby?” A chill seized her chest, and she clapped her hand over her mouth.
“I don’t know.”
“What do they want? Is there a ransom note?”
Dave slumped in the chair next to her. “No, they said to follow the instructions. But they didn’t give any.”
Jen’s mouth went dry. They wanted the code, that’s why. “Do you think it’s related to the calls you’ve been getting?”
“Maybe. At least she looks well.” He wiped his eyes. “If that’s Abby…”
Jen picked up the envelope. “Are you going to call the police?”
“I can’t. They said they’re watching me and will hurt her if I do.”
Jen looked around. The shades were drawn and the door was closed. “What do we do now?”
“If they really have her, I’d do anything to have her back. I keep thinking. The damn nanny leaves the key in the door. That could be accidental. But why would she turn off the nanny cam?”
“Maybe it was broken?”
Dave stared at Jen. “It worked fine the next day. I watched her mope around the house crying and hugging Abby’s dolls. Silly, sentimental loser.”
Prickles skittered over Jen’s shoulders. He really hated the nanny. But who could blame him?
She had to buy time and get Abby back before he recognized her. Or maybe she should disappear, run away and join a band. Yeah, that would make her a real loser.
“Do you believe they have her?” Jen clicked through the rest of the pictures. “Anyone can download pictures off Facebook and create a slideshow.”
“Would you call their bluff?” He rubbed his stubble. The scratching sound gave her chills.
“No.”
He heaved a sigh. “I wish I could question the nanny. She knew Abby as well as anyone. Maybe she would recognize her.”
She’d help any way she could. If only it were as simple as trading her life for Abby’s. But real life didn’t work that way. Jen reached for his laptop. “Mind if I take a look at the memory stick?”
“Go ahead.” He folded his arms over his desk and put his head down.
Not sure he wanted her comfort, Jen tucked the memory stick and envelope under her arm, picked up her crutches, and shut the door behind her.
* * *
Jen sat in the cubicle, reading the note. We’re watching your every move. So that’s how they knew she was at Dave’s house Saturday evening. But who? The only people who knew she was there were her roommate and the people at work.
The engineer who sat across from her knocked on the cubicle frame. “I signed for a package for you.”
She thanked him and tore it open. It contained a prepaid cell and a note. Remember, no police, or the girl dies. Do exactly as I say.
Crap. Her heartbeat thundered. She was in deep now. They were serious.
She tucked the phone in her jacket pocket and took the elevator to the lab to read the memory stick on the unencrypted LINUX system. Thankfully no one else was around. The slideshow played across the screen. Could this be Abby? She closed her eyes to picture baby Abby, but could not superimpose the baby’s features onto the child. She’d demand better proof—DNA. After copying the files over the network to her online photo album, she removed the memory stick and went back to her cubicle.
Satish brought a boxed dinner. “Missed you, so I thought I’d snag you one.”
She took the box and her laptop from him. “Thanks.”
He flashed his white even teeth and propped himself on the credenza. “Rough weekend? Was it as bad as Nick the SnotOgler wrote in his
blog? He interviewed the neighbor who says they carved up your stomach.”
Satish had such a nose for gossip, Jen was surprised he didn’t have Booger status on OgleNet, the internet’s premiere gossip site. Thankfully, Olga the TurdOgler lived in New York City.
“They hurt me, but I’ll be fine.” Jen examined the dinner. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. “Thanks for bringing this.”
“No problem,” he said. “So what were you doing at Jewell’s house in the first place? Do you and him have a thing going?”
JLo sang from her cell. Christy’s number. Jen shook her head and waved Satish away.
“I need a favor,” Christy said. “Can you go to Mami’s storage unit and find my birth certificate?”
Jen sighed. “Oh, honey. I’m kind of stuck until next Monday. We have to camp at work until the Black Friday launch and make sure the code keeps working through Cyber Monday.”
“But Jen, I’m almost seventeen and I don’t even have my permit. When will you have time to teach me how to drive?”
The prepaid cell phone rang the default chiming ringtone. Jen clapped her hand over her jacket pocket. Crap. She had to stop the ringing. “Christy, I have to go. Soon, okay?”
She clicked Christy off and hit the receive button on the prepaid. “Hello?”
A nasal voice said, “I don’t have to warn you again. No broken builds. I want all the mobile phone code, Android, iPhone, Mobile Windows, Blackberry, everything.”
Jen glanced around. Two engineers debated code changes in the next cube. “Give me a minute to go somewhere private.”
She grabbed her crutches and hobbled onto a balcony. “You won’t get anything until I have proof.”
“Didn’t you see the pictures? Go ask your boss.”
“Pictures schmictures. You could have downloaded them from Facebook. I want DNA. Until then, no code.”
Broken Build: Silicon Valley Romantic Suspense Page 13
