“Lock up, would you?” Stacy called out to her brother as she grabbed me by the hand and led me upstairs.
“Yeah,” he said back without looking up from his video game.
“I didn’t mean to wreck the party,” I said, climbing the stairs behind her.
“It was getting late anyway,” Stacy said as we arrived on the second floor and went to her room.
For a girl’s room, it was stark. A queen-sized bed with a pink comforter blanket lay under a window that had a blind but no drapes. Centered on the opposite wall was a simple white dresser. A shaded lamp and a jewelry box rested on top. There weren’t any pictures or decorations on the wall.
The two of them had only moved to Seattle six months before, and Stacy had told me she hadn’t had time to settle in yet. Several packing boxes were stacked in the corner, still sealed with tape.
She pointed to my clothes. “Now, get out of those wet things.” No sooner than she said it, she pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the bed. She slid her skirt down her long, tanned legs. I couldn’t peel my eyes away. She had a very athletic physique—three days a week, she worked out at the gym around the corner.
In nothing but her bra and panties, Stacy reached into her closet and pulled out a light robe. She wrapped herself in it and, with her back to me, wriggled out of her undergarments.
She motioned to me with her hand again. “Hurry up, would you? I’ll throw everything in the dryer for morning.” A moment later, she gave me a half-smile and shook her head. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before, you know.”
Despite feeling suddenly self-conscious, I began to peel the shirt away from my skin. It was then that I realized how chilled I was from being out in the rainy night. Gooseflesh covered my entire body.
Stacy disappeared out of the room for half a minute while I got undressed, and when she came back in, she had a thick terrycloth robe in her hand. She tossed it to me. “It’s Chuck’s,” she said. “He won’t mind.”
I was grateful for it. I pulled it tight around me and within a few moments I started to warm up. Soon after that, my teeth stopped chattering.
“Want some decaf?” Stacy asked. “Herbal tea? It’ll help you sleep.”
“No thanks.” I crooked my head to the side. “And thanks for letting me stay. I just needed some company, I guess.”
She gave me a big grin. “And you thought of me first?”
“Well, yeah. Of course.”
Throwing her arms around my neck, she planted a kiss on my lips. “You’re so sweet, it’s almost unbelievable.” Taking a step back, she said, “I’m going to go wash this makeup off. Don’t want to go to bed looking like a zombie or something.” She gave me a peck on the cheek. “Be right back.”
With light steps, she disappeared into the en suite and closed the door behind her.
The main bathroom was down the hall, and I made my way to it. After using the facilities, I turned the hot water on in the sink and waited until steam began to rise before washing my face and neck. I borrowed some mouthwash to swish and rinse, bemoaning the lack of a toothbrush.
Before leaving the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror.
My thick glasses made me look funny; I had always thought so, and had hated them from the time I started wearing them. When I was a kid, I had startling migraines whenever I went outside. An eye doctor said I had photophobia due to cataracts—uncommon for someone my age, but not unheard of. He said it was operable, but my mother couldn’t afford the procedure; her company’s health benefits didn’t cover eye care. Instead, I got glasses. As I grew older, my vision got worse, and the glasses got thicker. Whenever I went outside, I wore clip-on sunglasses; sometimes on bright days, even those didn’t help.
The eye doctor who examined me in prison said that I would probably have to do something in the next ten years or so, or else I would risk blindness.
There was a time in my life when I didn’t care about the future. But now that I was seeing Stacy…
We were still kind of a new thing, but I had started to experience an unfamiliar feeling: hope.
I combed my hair with my fingers and tried to make myself look less ragged.
When I returned to Stacy’s room, she was still in the bathroom. I slipped into the bed after hanging the robe on the top corner of the closet door.
We’d had sex before, but our intimacy was still new enough that I quite often found myself nervous and uncertain about it. I wasn’t sure if we were going to do it tonight, but I could feel myself growing aroused at the thought.
The anticipation was enough to make me forget about everything that happened earlier in the evening. Maybe a part of me wanted to forget…
I moved to the far side of the bed to make room for when she came out, and tried to position myself to appear both casual as well as enticing.
After several long minutes of waiting, however, I rested my head on the pillow.
Before Stacy returned from the en suite, exhaustion overtook me, and I fell asleep.
Chapter Three
One moment I was fast asleep, and the next I was wide awake. For the span of a heartbeat, I had no recollection of where I was.
Opening my eyes, I saw the glow of an unfamiliar alarm clock as the time rolled over from one fifty-nine to two o’clock. My heart skipped a beat from disorientation, then I remembered that I had slept over at Stacy’s house, and I took a deep breath.
I could feel the heat from a body lying next to me, and heard the sound of gentle snoring. Stacy was on her side, her back to me, and in the dim light, I could make out the feminine curves of her body under her thin nightshirt.
Gingerly, so I wouldn’t wake her, I eased out of the bed and reached for the robe.
I wrapped it around me, and softly padded out of the room and down the stairs.
Thirsty, I intended to make my way to the kitchen for a glass of water or milk, but I saw there were still lights on in the living room, and changed direction.
Poking my head through the doorway of the hall, I saw Chuck sitting on the sofa. He still held a gaming controller in his hands, and moved his arms erratically. I couldn’t hear any sound from the television, but I saw that he had a headset on.
Tall and thin, he was more awkward than lanky. Chuck had the same curly black hair as his sister, and though it was nearly as long as Stacy’s, he wore it in a ponytail. It made him look like a throwback to the hippie movement.
He jerked suddenly when he noticed me there, and he quickly replaced his startled look with a wide grin. Taking off the headset, he put it and the controller on the coffee table.
“Hey, Richard,” he said. “Can’t sleep?”
“I guess.” I took a step inside the room. “What are you playing?”
“Just a racing game. Wanna try?”
I shook my head. “I’ve never really liked video games,” I said. “They give me a headache.”
“Right.” Chuck gave me a little nod and pointed to his eyes. “The flashing lights.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s gotta suck.”
In the few times I had been over, Chuck had never seemed abashed or apologetic about his forward manner. He didn’t go out of his way to offend anyone with his comments or remarks, but it didn’t seem to bother him if someone took it the wrong way. If they took offense, it was their problem, not his. In a way, it made me feel a little more relaxed around him.
I let out a dry laugh. “Sometimes it does suck.”
Giving me a wry smile, Chuck got off the sofa. “I was just going to grab another beer. Want one?”
“Thanks, but no. I should probably head back upstairs. Six o’clock comes pretty early.”
“Work,” Chuck said as he edged past me on the way to the kitchen. “Ugh.” After a moment, he gave me a sidelong glance. “You’re at Worldwind Avionics, right?”
“Yeah.” Then I added in a lower voice, “My mother got me the job after I—” I wasn’t sure how comfortabl
e I was talking to him about my time away. “It’s just temporary until I can find something better.”
“I think Stacy mentioned something about you being a janitor there?”
“I’m on the maintenance staff, actually. Move things around, change light bulbs, odd jobs like that. It’s honest work,” I said, perhaps a little too defensively.
Chuck pulled a beer out of the fridge and popped the cap. He took a swig and held his hands up. “Hey, I’ve done crappier jobs than that. If it keeps your fridge stocked with beer, what’s the difference?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
Conversationally, he asked, “So, what’s the big plan? I mean, have you thought about what you’re going to do with the rest of your life?” When I shot him an alarmed look, he shrugged and lifted one eyebrow. “Hey, you’re dating my baby sister and everything. Just looking out for her, you know. You and I never really sat down and talked.”
“Well,” I said, drawing my words out. “When I was a kid, I always wanted to be a pilot. But that was a stupid phase or something.”
“Why didn’t you go for it?” Chuck took another swig of beer. “Because of your eyes again?”
“That and I’m afraid of flying.”
Chuck spat out a mouthful of beer and laughed. Then he saw that I was serious.
“Really?” he asked.
I lifted my shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. “I get the sweats when I think about being in a plane.”
He pointed his finger to punctuate his statement. “Dude, you work at an airport. How whacked is that?”
Starting to get uneasy with the conversation focused on me, I said, “So, what about you?”
It occurred to me that I didn’t know what Chuck did for a living. I didn’t recall Stacy mentioning much about it. Whatever it was, he either did shift work, or made his own schedule. It was a weeknight, and he was up playing video games until the small hours.
He made a puzzled face. “I have no problem with heights.”
I blinked, not understanding his answer right away. Then I said, “No. I meant, what do you do? For work?”
Eyes brightening, he smiled. “Let me show you.”
With that, he quickly walked past me to the door leading into the basement of the condo. I hadn’t been down there, and never guessed that it was used for more than a storage or laundry room.
Half the room was filled with metal shelving containing computer towers, printers and monitors. Several laptops rested on two workbenches, and there was one low-backed office chair on a thick plastic floor mat. All the machines were on, and the screens flickered with rolling text.
I was never much of a technology junkie, so I had no idea what I was looking at. “Are you a web designer or something?”
Chuck laughed. “Not a chance. Tried that once; wanted to throttle every last one of my clients.”
Glancing at several monitors one at a time, I couldn’t interpret what I was looking at. “Stock market?” I asked, pointing to a column of words that changed every few seconds.
“Good guess. Close, but not really.” He sat in the chair and rolled up to one of the laptops. Whipping his finger along the touchpad, he brought up a new screen for me to look at.
There were dozens of subject lines that, at first, made no sense to me: “Requested Docs”, “Updated Specs”, “Sell Sheet”, “Communication Approval Form”, “Contact for Certification Board”, “Shipment Delay Notification”, and many more.
“Email headers,” Chuck said, gesturing to the screen. “Look. Let me open one for you.”
* * *
Subject: Upcoming Teleconference.
As we continue to increase momentum on the agreements with Xi’an Industries, the management team would like to have a regional conference call with all production heads to go over the new procedures and manufacturing guidelines sent over from the Chinese Safety Commission. It is mandatory that all shift supervisors attend.
* * *
“Are you a hacker or something?” I asked, blurting it out. Immediately, I chastised myself, not because of the possibility that Chuck might take it as an insult, but because I had forgotten the most important lesson I learned in prison: keep your mouth shut.
He shot me a sharp look. “You cool?”
I composed myself and spoke in a casual voice. “Yeah.” I wasn’t a rat.
“Hacker crap is for pimply teenagers and spammers. I consider myself more of an internet Samurai, a web warrior, an online outlaw.”
Clearly, he was proud of himself, and wanted me to appreciate what he could do, though I wasn’t certain I understood what that was exactly. “This isn’t a credit card thing, is it?” I asked, mostly being polite. I really didn’t want to know any more about what Chuck was doing than I already did.
“Are you kidding?” he said, smiling. “That’s for amateurs. No, what I’m doing is levels beyond that. I’m data mining, sure, but why bother Joe Ordinary, or scam Grandma and Grandpa out of their Social Security? Too easy to get caught with that. And you’d get crucified if you went to trial. No, we live in an information age, and information is king.”
I wasn’t following, and it must have shown in my face.
Chuck pointed to the email message. “These guys are expanding their market territory and increasing production. Maybe that’s information their competition would like to know? Or their suppliers? Or stockholders.”
I found myself asking, “You mean, insider trading?”
Putting his hand on his chest, Chuck said, “I don’t invest anything personally. There’s too much of a paper trail. And too much risk…” He made a face. Then he said, “But I have a few contacts who would be happy to pay big bucks for a head start on the markets.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Swiveling in his chair to face me, he sized me up. “Didn’t you read that email?” He jerked his thumb to the laptop screen.
“Sort of.”
“Look closer. Look who it’s from.”
I leaned over and, despite the glare from the screen, which hurt my eyes, I read the sender’s name: David Matheson, VP Worldwind Avionics.
I stared at Chuck. “My mother is his secretary—I mean, administrative assistant—whatever. He’s the one who got me my job.” I couldn’t process the fact that my new girlfriend’s brother had hacked into my mother’s boss’s emails.
“I figured,” he said.
I took a step back and narrowed my eyes. “Is this a setup or something?”
“Nah, man. Chill,” Chuck said, putting up his hands.
“Is Stace in on this?”
He shook his head. “There’s nothing to be ‘in’ on. She thinks I still design websites and write code for shopping cart programs,” he said, pointing at the laptop screen. “What, you thought I wouldn’t check up on you? That’s what led me to Worldwind.”
With a chuckle, he turned back to his laptop. After punching in a few commands, another window popped up. It was a copy of my release papers from the Department of Corrections.
I felt a sudden anger at the invasion of my privacy, and I could feel myself flush from the emotion.
As if sensing the change in my mood, Chuck said, “You’ve got nothing to worry about, man. We’re cool. That’s why I brought you down here. I know about you; now you know about me. It’s only fair, right? All our cards on the table and all that.”
I wasn’t convinced, but I said, “Yeah, I guess,” anyway.
Chuck turned back to me. “Stacy likes you.”
I felt a different kind of heat rise in my cheeks. “I like her, too.”
“Just want to be straight with you.” There was a grave quality to Chuck’s words. “She and I are all we have. Our folks died when we were kids, and we don’t have any other living relatives. The state tried to send us off to different foster homes. We fought them, and stuck together. We watch each other’s back.”
“I get you,” I said.
Then Chuck smiled w
ide. “Hey, look at me, getting all serious and shit. Just give me the Big Brother of the Year award right now, right?”
He laughed, and I felt my anger fade.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s getting late, and if I don’t get some sleep, I’m going to be hurting tomorrow.”
“No problem,” Chuck said.
Before I could turn around to leave, he spoke again. His words had a casualness to them that I thought was forced. “I can’t always get what I need through the web, you know?”
I paused and shook my head. “Not really.”
“Well, if someone’s computer is hooked up to a router or something with an internet connection, then it’s just a matter of time before I can get into their system.” He turned back to his laptop. “But if they have something on a stand-alone machine with an independent connection, well, the info might as well be on the moon.”
“I’m not really sure what you mean,” I said.
“It’s a funny thing.” He spun around in his chair to face me, and folded his hands across his stomach. “I started looking in on Worldwind just because I was checking up on you, but a couple of days ago, I came across a posting on one of my job boards. Seems your company is working on something new, and security is very tight. The client wants to know what’s going on behind closed doors, and he’s offering some hard-core bucks to find out. I’m talking life-changing money, if you know what I mean. That’s why I’ve been digging.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know anything about what they do there, besides build jets. I just run errands.”
A half-smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, but you might have an idea where they would keep this information.”
I was feeling more than a little defensive. “How would I know that?”
“Maybe there’s a secured filing room or an office. There would be locks on the door, probably electronic or something. Security cameras. Maybe it’s even guarded.”
My stomach tightened. I did know of an area in the administration building that was off-limits: the adjoining offices of the president and vice-president of the company. Although I could go nearly everywhere in the Worldwind compound, I knew my key card wouldn’t allow me into that part of the building. As an ex-con, I couldn’t be bonded. I had the lowest possible security clearance.
The Complete Book Of Fallen Angels Page 23
