The Second Shooter

by E. A. Briginshaw

  “Just call me Scott. I hope you know how to fix this because I need the rooms allocated by next week.”

  David had designed the roommate matching program, but he wasn’t really a techie. Although he had figured out the questions to ask the applicants and fine-tuned the algorithm to find the best matches for roommates, he had contracted someone else to do the programming.

  “Let’s try re-booting the server,” David said.

  “Yeah, I thought about giving it a good swift kick with my boot,” Scott said under his breath.

  David laughed. “If it doesn’t work, I’ve got someone that I can call.”

  They watched as the computer started up again. When it did, David logged in to the application. This time, no error message appeared. “It was probably just caused by all of the changes in the network configuration.” David navigated to the screen that showed the assigned roommates.

  “Could you print that out for me?” Scott asked. “I’m more of a pen-and-paper kind of guy.”

  “Sure,” David said. He clicked on the printer icon and the report started coming out of the printer on the credenza beside Scott’s desk.

  Scott scanned the report. “Some of these students won’t be coming here after all – said they decided to go somewhere else. How do I delete them from our system and assign their room to someone else?”

  David showed him how to delete those students from the system. “Now we just run the matching program again. It’ll fill the vacancies using the most suitable roommates from those on the waiting list.”

  The program filled in a few of the vacancies with names, but there were still a few that had “TBD” listed.

  “So what am I supposed to do with a TBD?” Scott asked.

  “That means To Be Determined. It means they haven’t completed the comprehensive questionnaire yet. You should contact them to have them complete the survey and then the system will match them up with the best fit.”

  “Are you sure this is all worth it?” Scott knew that this meant he had a few more things added to his to-do list.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty important. An incompatible roommate can mess up a student’s whole year. Some of our surveys have indicated it has caused some students to fail a term or drop out of school altogether.” David remembered using those exact same words when he had pitched his system to the universities. “Let me know when you get those surveys back and I’ll come and help you match them up.”

  David glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to head off to soccer practice right now, but feel free to call me if you have any problems.”

  “You can count on it,” Scott said.

  * * *

  Alex sailed a corner-kick into the box and David easily headed it into the empty net. Alex was normally a defender and was rarely given the opportunity to take corner kicks, but they were just playing around before the practice began on Alumni Field. Alex Bujaczek had been David’s best friend all through high school and it was no coincidence they had chosen to go to the same university. They had intentionally applied to the same universities.

  Both of them had played for the Under-19 Canadian national soccer team and they were sure bets to make the university squad. However, they were also hoping to make the Canadian national team, which was less of a certainty. They knew the scouts would be watching players from all of the universities to select the most promising prospects.

  “David,” the coach yelled from the sideline. “Alex,” he yelled again. “I need to speak to both of you.”

  They sprinted over to the sidelines. “What’s up coach?” David asked.

  “The national team has requested that I release both of you to play in a friendly match against the U.S. in a couple of weeks. I said I would on the provision that none of their activities interfere with any of our league games. Is that okay with you?”

  “That’s great,” they both answered in unison.

  The coach turned his focus to Alex. “I also said your release is dependent on the condition of your leg. How’s it feeling?”

  Alex had hurt the ACL of his right leg at the end of last season. The doctors had indicated it was a strain and not a tear, so they were hoping he could avoid surgery.

  “It feels great,” Alex said.

  David knew Alex wasn’t telling the whole truth. Although Alex could make it through a practice without showing any ill effects, David also knew he had to ice his knee after every practice to reduce the swelling. It was still pretty tender.

  “Okay,” the coach said. “But remember, the priority right now is our own game against McMaster. After that game, I’ll release both of you to play with the national team, but you have to be back here the following week to play against York.”

  * * *

  It was almost ten before Henry made it into the Chicago office of Richards, Blackwood and McTavish. He gently tapped on the open door of Sharon Robertson, the Systems Manager for the Chicago office. Henry relied on her to keep things running smoothly. Lawyers weren’t known to be the most patient people in the world when computer problems arose.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today,” Sharon said. “What’s going on?”

  “Yeah, I only decided at the last minute to come to Chicago.” He didn’t share the fact that that it was his feelings of loneliness that had been the deciding factor in scheduling his trip. “What’s the scuttlebutt about the merger around here?”

  Henry’s firm of Richards, Blackwood and Thornton had merged with the Chicago firm of McTavish & Company over a year ago. Now there were rumours of a further expansion with a New York City firm.

  “Well, a few weeks ago, everyone was talking about it,” Sharon said, “but now no one is talking. There’s a lot of closed-door meetings and whispering in the hallways.”

  “That probably means they’re getting serious,” Henry said. “We’re not hearing anything in Toronto. Do you know anything about their software systems?”

  “Not much, other than they say they’ve got the best legal software in the country.”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “Every law firm says that. I’ll start digging to see what I can find out. I’ll probably be here for a few days this week.”

  “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” Sharon said.

  Henry headed into a small meeting room down the hall. He didn’t have, nor need, a regular office in Chicago, so he normally just reserved one of the meeting rooms to use during his visits. He glanced at his watch and decided to call Laura.

  “Chicago Tribune – Laura Walsh speaking.”

  “Hi, it’s just me,” Henry said.

  “Oh – hi. They just told me I had a call on this line but didn’t say who it was. I’ve got someone on hold on the other line. What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I just never got to say goodbye before you left for work this morning, so I thought I’d call.”

  “That’s because you fell asleep right after our little rendezvous.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  “Look, I’ve got someone on hold so I’ve got to go. I’ll see you back at the condo later tonight, okay? I’ll probably be quite late.”

  “Okay,” Henry said. “Love you,” he continued, but heard the click of the phone before he got the last words out.

  * * *

  “Hi Todd, sorry about that,” Laura said when she switched back to the caller she had on hold. “We should probably stop calling each other at the office or else we’ll both be in trouble.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Have you got a cell phone you can use that can’t be traced?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got one that I use when I want to talk to someone off the record.” She gave Todd the number.

  “Okay,” Todd said. I’ll pick up a burner phone and text the number to your cell.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Oh, you probably shouldn’t come by the condo anymore. Henry’s in town and getting a bit suspicious about what we’re up to.”

  “You’re not g
oing to tell him, are you?”

  “No, it’s probably best to keep this between us.”

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Laura received a text on her cell phone. The message consisted of just a phone number, but she knew who it was from.

  “Hi, it’s me,” she said when she called the number. “Did you find anything out?”

  “A little bit,” Todd said. “The documents they accidently released had to do with the Kennedy assassination.”

  “Who cares about that anymore?”

  “Well, apparently the Secret Service and the CIA do for starters. They’re tracing everyone who downloaded the documents using their IP address and then using whatever means they have to get them back. There’s no shortage of money, guns and lawyers involved in this one.”

  “What’s in the documents that they’re so afraid of?”

  “I have no idea, but we’ve been told to stay out of their way. You can’t use any of this in your story. This is just background info to get you pointed in the right direction.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Laura said. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

  Laura spent the rest of the afternoon and evening reviewing old information about the Kennedy assassination. Although it had happened about fifteen years before she was born, she knew it was a major event that affected the entire nation, and probably the whole world. It was almost midnight before she made it home.

  “Long day?” Henry asked when she came through the door of her condo.

  “Incredibly long,” Laura said. “I just want to crash.”

  So much for spending some quality time together, Henry thought to himself. “Making any progress on your story?”

  “A little, but not much.” Laura slumped onto the couch. “How was your day?”

  Henry started telling her about the potential merger with the New York firm. “There’s a chance I might have to go to New York to gather some info on their computer systems. Any chance you could get away to join me? Maybe we could go to a show on Broadway or just see the sights.”

  He didn’t get a response. He looked over to see Laura had already fallen asleep. He gently placed a blanket over her, kissed her on the forehead and then headed off to bed himself. When he awoke in the morning, she was already gone.

  *** Chapter 6 ***

  David was surprised to see a blond girl wearing very short shorts and a pink “I Love New York” T-shirt standing there when he opened the door.

  “You David Shaw?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “The buildin’ manager said I had to come see you to fill in some stupid questionnaire.” She maneuvered her way around David and into his room. “So let’s get this over with.”

  She was only about five feet tall and about a hundred pounds, but she looked like she could handle herself in any situation. She smelled like apples, which David assumed was her shampoo. Whatever it was, he had an overwhelming desire to smell her neck. He found his eyes drifting down to her breasts which were stretching the material of her shirt to the limit.

  “You like my T-shirt?” she asked. “I bought a bunch just before I left home, but I think they shrunk when I washed them. You don’t think it’s too small, do-ya?”

  David could feel himself blushing. “No, I think it looks great.”

  “I’m Heather, Heather Low, but my friends call me Bronx.” That made perfect sense. She had a very thick Bronx accent. “Don’t know what questionnaire the buildin’ manager wants me to complete ‘cause I did one when I sent my application.”

  “You probably just completed the basic form,” David said. “There’s a more detailed one that asks a bunch of questions to help us match you with the best possible roommate.”

  “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

  “You can use my computer,” David said. Once he logged in, he found her name on the waiting list and clicked on the button to start the questionnaire. “Okay, have a seat.”

  “You have a roommate?” she asked. “I betcha you and I would be a good match. Then I wouldn’t have to complete this stupid questionnaire.”

  Is she hitting on me? He wasn’t used to such assertive girls. “Sorry, but I already have a roommate – my older brother.”

  He watched as she started the questionnaire. In fact, he found it impossible not to watch her. He noticed that she was registered in Business & Economics and wondered if she’d be in any of his classes.

  “I already answered this question!” she said after a few minutes.

  David could tell she was getting frustrated. “Some of the questions may appear like they’re the same, but they’re really not. The questions adapt based on some of your previous answers to try to drill down on your real personality by presenting different scenarios.”

  “Wha-da-ya’ mean?”

  “Let me explain,” David said. “Up here you indicated you’d prefer a roommate that was neat and tidy.”

  “Yeah, who wouldn’t?”

  “You’d be surprised. Now the question down here asks whether it would bother you if your roommate didn’t make her bed every day.”

  “Well, you don’t have to be fanatical about it.”

  “That’s my point. That really bothers some people. Further down, it asks whether it would bother you if your roommate played music while they studied.”

  “No,” she said.

  “But would it bother you if they were blasting rap music at two in the morning?”

  “I hate that shit,” she said.

  She completed several more questions while David watched. “These questions are stupid. I thought it would just ask stuff like if I prefer to wear jammies or a night-gown to bed.” She looked directly at David. “Neither, in case you’re interested. Don’t wear nuthin to bed.”

  Okay, she was definitely hitting on him. David felt his face flush. “I have a girlfriend – back in my home town.” He thought of Ashley, the girl he had been going out with in the last year of high school.

  “Is it serious?”

  “Yes, but we’re not engaged or anything.”

  “You sleepin’ togetha?”

  David could not believe how bold this girl was. “I don’t see where that’s any of your business.”

  She winked at him. “That would be a no then, wouldn’t it? If she hasn’t sealed the deal, then I consider you fair game.”

  David had to get up and walk away. He knew he was in way over his head.

  “Done,” she said a few minutes later. “When will I know who my roommate is?”

  “The building manager should be able to tell you once he runs the matching program, probably later today.” David led her to the door.

  “Can’t you just click somethin’ and run it now? Hate to get stuck with some preppie bitch.” She reached out and traced the WLU logo on the front of David’s shirt. “Maybe you could tweak it so I get the roomie I really want.”

  “Are all girls from New York like you?”

  “Only those of us from the Bronx – and I’m one of the shy ones.”

  David found her anything but shy. “Well, Bronx seems like a really good nickname for you.”

  “What’s your nickname?” she asked.

  “Don’t have one.”

  “Well, we can’t have that. How ‘bout I call you Crush since I have a bit of a crush on you?”

  “I don’t think so,” David said.

  “Oh, I know,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “I got the perfect handle for you.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Goliath,” she said as she walked away.

  * * *

  After she left, David sat on his bed in total shock for several minutes. Was she his new contact? She couldn’t be. She didn’t seem the type. But it couldn’t just be a coincidence that she had called him Goliath, could it?

  David pulled his laptop from the hidden compartment in his soccer bag. He was hoping there would be a new message telling him what to do.

 
“Welcome, Goliath,” appeared on the screen after he had logged in.

  “Retrieve instructions,” he typed into the computer.

  There was a new message. It was from a contact David had never heard of before called the Black Knight.

  “Watch out for the second shooter,” was all that the message said.

  David had no idea what it meant.

  *** Chapter 7 ***

  Laura hung up the phone after her conversation with another one of her insiders in the government. She headed into her editor’s office to give him an update. “We’re finally getting somewhere on this story.”

  “It’s about time,” her editor said without looking up. Lou fit the stereotypical image of an old-school newspaper editor. He was balding, in his early fifties, and overweight, which was not surprising since he rarely left his desk and all of his meals came in one kind of fast-food bag or another. He usually washed it down with a few quick gulps from a water bottle that sat on his desk, but everyone knew it was something other than water inside. “What have you got?”

  “My source says they accidently released some of the documents related to the Kennedy assassination.”

  “We already knew that,” he growled. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

  “Well, apparently some of them were ones the President had indicated should remain classified.”

  “What’s in the documents?”

  “He wouldn’t say, but he did say it would prove there was a conspiracy in the assassination. Said it would prove there was a second shooter.”

  Lou stopped typing and looked up at Laura. “Will he go on record with that?”

  Laura knew they always lived in fear of being scooped on a big story by the TV stations or some online blogger. But they were journalists and had higher standards. They weren’t always first, but they had to get it right. “No,” she said reluctantly. “I can’t use his name. If I do, he said he’d deny everything.”

  “Then you better find another source.”