by E. C. Myers
Ariel’s roommate, Lauren Johnson, was a tall, friendly black woman with long braids down her back. She brought out a tray with four glasses of water and set it on the coffee table in front of the couch where Max, Penny, and Risse were seated. Lauren sat in a chair across from them.
“Thanks for talking with us.” Penny leaned forward, arms resting on her knees.
Lauren intertwined her fingers nervously. “I want to know what happened to Ari.”
“Why are you so certain it wasn’t an accident? Did you see it happen?” Max asked.
“No, I was visiting my boyfriend in L.A. When Gawain phoned me with the news, I knew she’d been murdered. Ariel had been worried something might happen to her. She was afraid of disappearing.”
Max exchanged looks with Penny and Risse.
“What did she say?” Penny asked.
“That she had made a mistake and thought she was mixed up in something dangerous. She felt like she was being followed. That was the week before she died.” Lauren rubbed absently at her right ear and looked lost in thought. “I know that isn’t anything like proof, but if you’d seen how scared she was . . . . She was acting strange. Strange even for her. She was my girl, but she just wasn’t right sometimes. Ari got all worked up over cell phones.”
“What about cell phones?” Risse said, pausing whatever she was doing on her own phone.
“She was paranoid. She claimed someone was listening to us, watching us through them. We fought because one day she put both our phones in the refrigerator. I told her she could do whatever she wanted with her stuff, but don’t mess with my phone,” Lauren said.
“I know how you feel,” Penny said, looking at her sister.
“I thought she’d gone off the deep end,” Lauren said.
“She may have been right about someone monitoring her,” Max said. “Edward Snowden used to ask people to put their phones in the refrigerator to block them from picking up sound.”
“Really?” Lauren stared at her phone on the coffee table. For a moment, Max considered putting their own phones in the refrigerator.
“Um. The papers said Ariel was a systems administrator. Where did she work?” Risse asked.
Lauren rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know.”
“She didn’t tell you?” Penny asked.
“All I knew was she did something with computers.”
“That’s true of most of the people in the Bay Area,” Max said.
“She usually worked from home, but sometimes she took the train into the city. I figured she was sworn to secrecy or something so I didn’t pry. The company must have been in an office building, because she had a badge. I saw it clipped to her bag once. But most of the time she sat in front of the TV with her laptop all day and all night.”
Was Ariel a hacker too? Was that the connection? She’d gotten Evan’s attention somehow, but he hadn’t linked her to any of the members of Dramatis Personai. The only handle unaccounted for had been 0MN1, and Max had spoken to him a couple of days ago online.
“It was kind of annoying at first, having her around all the damn time. But it was also kind of comforting.” Lauren sniffed. “I miss her.”
“I’m sorry. I know how hard it is . . . . We just lost a close friend too.” Max glanced at Penny.
Lauren pressed a hand to her mouth and nodded.
“I hate to ask, but is Ariel’s laptop still around?” Max asked.
Lauren’s eyes widened. “No, and that’s another weird thing. I rushed home the morning after she died and found the back door unlocked. She never once left it open in two years. We’ve had some break-ins in the area, so we were both careful.”
“Was anything missing?” Penny asked.
“Nothing of mine. The only thing of Ari’s that I’m sure was missing was her laptop. It was usually right here on the coffee table or on her desk, and it wasn’t with her when she died. Her badge from her mystery job was also gone; I looked for it specifically when I was packing up her things. I tried to tell her parents when they came for her stuff, but they didn’t want to hear it. I can’t blame them.”
Max suppressed a groan. It was too much to hope that her things would still be there after half a year.
“Maybe it was just a robbery,” Risse said.
“On the same night she died? Only in Ari’s room?” Lauren shook her head, braids swinging out. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
The night Evan died, his house was raided too, Max thought.
“Can we see her old room?” Max asked.
“There’s a guy living there now. I still have to make the rent, y’know?” Lauren scowled. “Not that he ever pays it on time. Musicians.”
“It still might be helpful to see where she lived. Maybe she left something behind.”
“I guess so. He’s hardly ever home.” She stood. “But just fair warning: Peyton is such a dude. No offense, Max.”
The room looked like it had just been ransacked. Crumpled clothes were all over the floor and draped over the desk chair. A bong rested by a twin mattress on the floor. Dirty plates were piled up in a cardboard box under the window.
“I put those there whenever he leaves dishes in the sink too long. I don’t think he’s noticed,” Lauren said.
Penny waved her hand in front of her nose. “It smells like a gym in here.”
Risse was already poking around the outlet where the coaxial cable and phone lines emerged from the wall.
“Listen, don’t touch any of his stuff, okay? I shouldn’t let you in here without his permission.” Lauren wrung her hands.
“No problem. I don’t want to touch any of this crap,” Penny said.
She checked between the desk and the wall while Max prodded the floor with his right foot, checking for loose floorboards.
“I don’t think you’ll find anything of Ari’s. I had the room professionally cleaned before Peyton moved in. I shouldn’t have bothered,” Lauren said.
Risse checked the closet, paying extra attention to the ceiling. She ran her fingers up the inside of the doorjamb.
Max dragged over the desk chair and stood on it to peer inside the air vent.
“You guys are something,” Lauren said.
“Did you discuss your concerns about Ariel’s death with anyone else?” Max asked. His voice echoed in the empty air duct. The chair wobbled on uneven legs and he grabbed for the wall to regain his balance.
“The cops, but they laughed and told me to leave the investigation to professionals. I thought about going to journalists, but I never did.”
“Worried they wouldn’t believe you?” Max asked.
Lauren steadied Max’s chair. “I . . . was afraid they would. I realized that if Ari was murdered, it might be a bad idea to let her killer know that I knew. Is that terrible?”
“You have to watch out for yourself first,” Penny said, somewhat critically. She probed under the desk drawer with her finger then pulled it open. Pens rolled around inside it with a hollow sound. She looked at the drawer curiously.
Max hopped down from the chair and carried it back over to the desk.
Penny rapped the inside of the drawer. She wrestled with it for a moment before she freed it from its rollers.
“Hey!” Lauren said.
Penny looked around at the mess, shrugged, and dumped the contents onto the floor: three pens, a CD case, a strip of condoms, and three pennies. She turned the drawer back over and rested it on top of the desk. She felt around inside of it for a moment.
“Got something,” Penny said.
“Really?” Lauren asked.
Something clicked and Penny pulled up a thin wooden square. “False bottom.”
Max leaned over. “What’s in it?”
Penny sighed. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?!” Risse said. “Why have
a false bottom if you don’t hide anything in it?”
Max looked at the narrow space. It could easily fit SD cards, DVDs, papers, pictures, or any other flat storage medium.
“Someone got here first,” he said. Someone who thought just like they did.
“Crap,” Penny said.
“You think Ari was killed for whatever she was hiding?” Lauren asked.
“We’re only guessing right now, but her death may be linked to five other deaths,” Max said.
“Five?” Lauren leaned against the wall by the desk. “How is that possible?”
“We’re trying to figure that out.”
“This is about that guy on the news! The computer hacker that killed himself at the debate.” Lauren stared at Max and he saw the moment she realized who he was.
Max exchanged a glance with Penny. She was restoring the desk to the way she found it.
“He was your friend?” Lauren asked.
“My best friend,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Max looked around the room hopelessly. “Lauren, did Ariel give you anything before she died? Maybe a USB drive or an SD card?”
“Nothing like that.” Lauren pushed her mouth to the side as she thought. “I almost forgot. She did give me something just before I left for L.A.”
She led them back to the kitchen and pointed at a picture on the stainless steel refrigerator door: a printout of a photo of Lauren and Ariel posing outside the Chinese Theatre.
“That’s a nice picture,” Max said.
“No, the magnet. I completely forgot about it as soon as she gave it to me. I didn’t discover it in my purse until a couple of months ago,” Lauren said.
The silver magnet holding up the photo was shaped like a rectangular jigsaw puzzle piece. It had two tabs on the left and right edges and slots cut into the top and bottom. The letter A was laser-etched in the center.
Max pulled the magnet free to study it more closely.
It was an eighth of an inch thick. The metal was smooth and cool and oddly concave, curving slightly outward. He turned it over but there were no other markings on the back. He passed it to Penny, who turned it over and over curiously.
“Does this have any significance to you, Lauren?” Max asked.
“It reminds me of her. She used to carry it around, like a lucky charm,” Lauren said.
Risse looked at it quickly then handed it back to Max.
Max weighed it in his palm. “Could we borrow it?”
She hesitated. “Can it help you figure out what happened to her?”
“I don’t know yet, but it might be important.”
“Okay. I hope it helps.” Lauren took back the picture that Max offered.
Max slipped the metal puzzle piece into his left pocket and curled his fingers around it.
“Me too,” he said.
16
Max, Penny, and Risse walked back to their car in silence. Max kept looking around, expecting someone to jump out at them from behind a tree at any moment. The deeper he got into this, the less safe the world seemed to be.
Penny had promised to accompany him only as far as San Jose. Now that they were pretty sure Ariel had indeed been murdered, he couldn’t blame her and Risse if they wanted to get out. He was already wanted, so he had no choice but to keep going. Maybe once he revealed the truth, whatever it was, to the world, the Feds would lose interest in him—or no longer be able to touch him.
Max pulled his laptop out and put it on top of the hood to start the ignition.
“So . . . ” he began.
“I think now it’s time to download that torrent file,” Penny said.
Max smiled. “Yeah. But where should we go?”
She checked her phone. “The perfect place is nearby. Start the car. I’m driving.”
“Why is this a good idea again?” Max asked as he followed Penny and Risse into the mall. They stood in front of the ground level entrance and watched the crowd of weekend shoppers bustling by.
“Crowds are your friend. It’s easier to blend in,” Penny said.
“I’m not going to blend in wearing this.” Max adjusted the black eyepatch she had given him in the car. He was wearing Risse’s glasses over it, and he was reasonably certain that he looked ridiculous.
“That’s going to make sure you blend in as far as the security cameras are concerned. Facial recognition algorithms measure the distance between your eyes and your other features. That patch makes you invisible to them. Especially if you tilt your head more,” Penny said.
“Aaaarrrr,” Risse said.
“Thanks,” Max said.
“We should split up. I’m going upstairs to Everything Electronic. Computer stores are great for wired internet with an anonymous IP address, as long as we’re in and out fast. I’ll download Evan’s file while you find a new outfit with Risse. May I suggest a blouse with puffy sleeves and a tricorn hat?” Penny said.
“Ha-ha. Okay, we’ll find you in the computer store when we’re done,” Max said.
“Be careful.” Penny headed for the escalator.
Risse towed Max over to ThrifTee, where she picked out a faded “I Want YOU” T-shirt, where Uncle Sam was wearing glasses like Max’s.
“Is this supposed to be ironic?” Max asked.
“Of course it is. It’s hipster. But more importantly, and even more ironically, shirts like this confuse the hell out of Panjea’s photo tagging. It focuses on the face printed on the front of your shirt instead of your own.”
“Sold,” Max said.
He accepted the reversible black-and-white hoodie she found for him too. He only resisted when she tried to get him to change his sneakers for purple Dr. Martens.
“I can’t run in those,” Max said.
“How about a mismatched pair of sneakers?” she asked. “That would look cool.”
“I’m not giving up my shoes. These are already broken in,” Max said.
“Fine. But if you get caught because they track you down by your footprints or something, I’m going to say I told you so. At least roll up the cuffs of your jeans.”
Max rolled up the left cuff and sighed.
“The other one too.”
He shook his fist in mock fury.
Max carried his old clothes out in a brown paper bag and went with Risse to Everything Electronic. Penny was typing at a desktop computer at the end of a row of six display models. She cracked up when she saw Max.
“What?” he said. “You don’t like my new threads?”
“Now you look like a patriotic pirate.” Penny tugged at the sleeve of his hoodie, which he was currently wearing black-side-out. “This is nice, though.”
“How’s it going here?” he asked.
She resumed typing. Her yellow computer glasses dangled from the blouse under her unzipped pink parka. A lock of blond hair was sticking out of her knit cap. She twitched her nose whenever her hair tickled it. He was tempted to brush her hair out of the way, but it was kind of cute when she scrunched up her face like that.
“The download finished ten minutes ago.” She showed him the thumb drive on a chain around her neck then tucked it back into her blouse. “I’m catching up on current events. I have good news and bad news.”
Max took a deep breath. “Bad news first.”
She lowered her voice. “They’re stepping up the search for you. You’re wanted for murder.”
“Murder?” Max whispered. “Who did I supposedly kill?”
“Evan.” Penny showed him an article on CNN. He skimmed it, fighting mounting panic. Withholding information that could help the federal investigation was bad, but being suspected of murder. . . .
The article mentioned that Bradley Stein had issued a missing persons report for Max when he didn’t come home afte
r school on Wednesday:
“He never misses soccer practice,” Mr. Stein said. “He’s a good boy and I’m worried that something may have happened to him. I just want him to know that I trust him and I love him, no matter what, and I hope he can come home soon.”
Max teared up.
It had been smart of his dad to file that report, so it wouldn’t seem like he knew Max had gone on the run.
“This is stupid. There are over four hundred witnesses to his suicide,” Max said.
“According to print*is*dead, the FBI are considering the possibility that Evan’s video was prerecorded,” Penny said.
Max noticed a chat window open with Dramatis Personai in another tab. Penny had been busy.
“Then someone would have had to post the video for Evan,” Max said.
“Someone who was there when he died?” Risse asked.
“Or he wrote a script to post the video for him,” he said.
“Dramatis Personai got hold of a scan of the police report. It says that Evan died that afternoon, a few hours before the debate began,” Risse said.
Max opened tab after tab of news stories. The New York Times was running a series of interviews with kids from their class, as well as stories about Max’s short soccer career and his friendship with Evan. They moved fast.
“Where are they getting this stuff?” Max asked. “I know Evan was alive just before eight p.m. because he sent me that text.”
“Like you said, anything can be automated. Max, where were you before the debate?” Penny asked.
“Seriously? I did soccer drills then went for a five-mile run.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah.”
“You could have killed him and set the video to play during the debate to serve as your own alibi. Which would be really clever.”
“Penny!”
“I’m just saying: With the FBI choosing what information makes it to the public, and the media using it to paint a picture, they can make it look like anything they want.”
“They could even fake a police report about his time of death,” Max said. “Where did they find his body?”
Risse was typing at the computer next to them. She was also talking to Dramatis Personai. “Apparently 0MN1 and a couple of others analyzed the public portion of Evan’s video. They enhanced the footage and turned down the contrast enough to see some empty book shelves behind him and part of a sign.”
