Nothing Personal (The Kincaids)

by James, Rosalind

  “Explain.”

  “What Brandon said, about how you slept with me so I’d alibi you. That you used me.”

  “What? You do think I did it? That this is all some kind of double bluff?” Confusion, and anger, and hurt, the sharpest pain he’d felt yet that day. He took a step back, and the light turned green.

  “Alec. Wait. Listen.” She grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him into the intersection and across the street with her. “No. I mean that’s how he did it. A woman. Veronica. You look for the weakest link, right? She’s the weakest link. We need to go see her. They sent everyone home already, right?”

  “Right.”

  She had already pulled out her phone, was looking it up. “She lives in San Leandro. Come on. Let’s get your car. I’ll explain on the way.”

  A Live Goat to Catch a Tiger

  Two very long hours later, after Rae had coaxed, and explained, and been sympathetic and understanding to a point that had Alec’s teeth gritting in frustration, they were still sitting around a small dining table with a swollen-eyed, tear-streaked Veronica.

  “I’m so, so sorry,” she said again. “I should have told you, Rae. After you gave me the job, and you’ve been so good to me. But he’s a partner,” she pleaded, “and he said it was a secret. He showed me a memo from the board about the security breach, and he said he needed my help to trap Alec. That he needed Alec’s credentials so he could track what he was doing, could catch him downloading the code. That they didn’t trust anybody else here, because Alec could have got to everyone, but that he knew he could trust me. I said I had to check with you, Rae. I told him so. But he said no, because . . .” She swallowed, looked down, “because you were compromised. Because you were . . .”

  “Sleeping with Alec,” Rae finished for her.

  Veronica’s blotchy face flushed an even deeper red. “Yes,” she whispered. “Because Alec had seduced you, in order to get you to help him. But he said you didn’t realize,” she added hastily. “He never said you’d done anything wrong.”

  “So he had you install the rootkit and the keylogger, and then wipe it once you had Alec’s login and password, and the password for the code folder,” Desiree said.

  “Yes. I did it as soon as Alec came in on Friday,” she explained, still looking at Rae, avoiding Alec’s eyes, as well she might. “It was only on there for five minutes. Then, when I had what I needed, I uninstalled them and ran the program to cover up that I did it.”

  “How did you know how to do all that?” Alec asked.

  “He showed me how, a long time ago. When . . .”

  “When you did it to Michael,” Alec realized, his eyes meeting Rae’s.

  “Yes,” Veronica said. “Because Michael was stealing too. But that’s how I knew it was all right, don’t you see? Because Michael was doing it, and we caught him.”

  “DatAssure caught him, you mean,” Alec corrected her grimly. “After Rae and I got a tip and alerted them.”

  “No,” Veronica said urgently. “He explained it to me. He’s the one who figured it out, and that was why Michael was fired, because I helped catch him.”

  Alec ignored her. “We need to make that right with Michael,” he told Rae. “All this time wasted. All this time . . .”

  She nodded. “We will. Later.”

  “It was only five minutes,” Veronica repeated, as if that would make it better. “And he said we needed to. He said it was for the board.”

  “And it didn’t occur to you,” Alec couldn’t help saying, “that if the board had needed that information, they would have gone through their security consultants to get it, not the receptionist?”

  She opened her mouth, closed it again, seemed to shrink into herself. Desiree glared at him, kicked his foot under the table, and he shut up.

  “What else did he do to get you to help him?” Rae asked gently. “Veronica,” she went on as the young woman began to cry again, “you’ve been victimized. You thought you were doing the right thing, but you were lied to. That isn’t your fault. As long as you tell us the truth, you’re going to be all right. You’ll have a job. Not this job,” she went on hastily, because now Alec was kicking her foot, “but I’ll help you get something.”

  “He said . . .” The tears were flowing freely now. “That he loved me. That he was so glad he had me to help him. That after this was over, we’d be able to be together openly, not hide anymore. He’s going to take me to meet his mother,” she pleaded. “So you know he’s serious.”

  “Have you heard from him today?” Rae asked.

  “Not . . . not yet. When they told us the office was closed, to go home, I tried to call, but it went to voicemail. I thought they must have caught Alec. That it was over, and we’d be able to be together, like he said. But I haven’t heard from him after all, and I don’t know what to do.”

  The last part was a wail. Rae sat for a moment, thinking. Alec longed to tell Veronica that she might think about checking out the Society for the Aid of the Terminally Credulous, or start filling out her unemployment forms, but he sat still as well. And after a moment, Rae spoke again.

  “Do you have somebody you could go stay with for a few days?” she asked.

  “My sister.” The sobs had died to sniffles now. “In LA.”

  “I think that would be a good idea,” Rae said. “Call her right now, and tell her you’re coming to stay. Today. The first flight we can get you on.”

  Another few minutes, and the call was made, to the accompaniment of some more tears, some confused non-explanations. And Rae entering the sister’s name and number into her own phone, Alec noticed. Although he pulled her away for a few seconds during that phone call, because he had to.

  “She’s our best evidence,” he argued from the entryway, keeping his voice low. “And you’re planning to send her away? We should take her to Ron right now.”

  “I think she needs to be gone,” Rae said, glancing into the room where Veronica was still talking. “Tell you later. But I’ve got it covered, I promise. Can you trust me?”

  He hesitated a moment, but there was only one answer. “Yes. As long as you explain.”

  “Soon as we’re done,” she promised. “Wait. She’s hanging up.’

  “And now,” she told the other woman when she was standing over her again, “you pack a suitcase, and Alec will drive you to the airport and pay for your ticket.” Which Alec was not one bit thrilled to hear either, but Rae was clearly on a roll, so what the hell. “And you give us your phone. We’ll call your sister on the way and tell her which plane you’re on,” she went on hastily when Veronica began to object again, “but we don’t want to give . . . him any way to get in touch with you.”

  “But . . .”

  “Do you believe me?” Rae demanded. “That he was using you? Come on. Talk and pack.” She shepherded Veronica into the bedroom of the cheap apartment, and Alec followed, leaned against the wall.

  “Yes,” Veronica admitted, crying yet again. Alec didn’t know where women stored all those tears, but they must have an extra reservoir somewhere, because the supply seemed to be inexhaustible. But she was getting down her suitcase from the top shelf of her closet, which was progress. The influence of a will greater than her own, he guessed. Although to be fair, just about any will seemed to be greater than Veronica’s.

  “And you want to help us now, don’t you?” Rae coaxed, taking clothes from Veronica and packing them tidily into the case. “You want to clear your name, so you have a good future?”

  Veronica nodded, pulling clothes haphazardly off hangers, out of drawers, handing them to Rae

  “That’s enough,” Rae judged. “Toiletries. Bathroom. Come on.”

  “You just do what I say,” she was telling Veronica when they returned, “and everything’s going to be fine. But you can’t call him. If you do,” she said sternly, “I can’t help you, and neither can Alec. Not anymore. You could even go to jail. Do you understand?”

  “I can’t . . . I
can’t go to jail.” It was a whimper. “My parents . . .”

  “You do what I say,” Rae repeated, “and you won’t. You give me your phone, you don’t call him, you stay at your sister’s until I call you and tell you it’s all right to come home again. You listen to me, you do what I say, and you’ll be fine.”

  “You really think all that was necessary?” Alec asked when he’d parted with several hundred dollars for a last-minute ticket to LA, Rae had added Veronica’s phone to the collection of items in her purse, and they were leaving Oakland Airport’s short-term parking lot. “You think she would have talked to him again?”

  “Who knows,” Rae sighed. “And who knows what he would have done, now that she’s not useful to him any more. He must know that she wouldn’t stand up to any real questioning.”

  He glanced at her sharply. “You don’t think she’s in danger. You’re thinking he’d actually hurt her, let alone, what, kill her? I don’t believe he’s capable of that. He may be a thief, but a killer? No. I don’t believe it.”

  “Now that he’s gone this far, who knows what else he’d do? I just feel like she should be out of his reach. We don’t have enough yet. We haven’t stopped him. And if his story was good enough, she’d buy it again, and she’d tell him we were here, and that we knew.”

  “I can’t disagree with you there,” he admitted. “What would make a woman suspend rational thought like that?”

  “Looking for love.”

  There was no good answer to that one, so he left it.

  “If we’re going to stop him,” he said, “we need a plan. Or should I assume that if I listen to you and do what you say, I’ll be fine?”

  “I do have an idea,” she said. “We can’t risk him muddying the waters any more. Doing something else to implicate you, or both of us now. And meanwhile, with the alpha out there . . . No. We need to do it now, and I think I know how. Head for your place.”

  “Huh.” He moved into the right lane. Northbound, toward the Bay Bridge. “Then what?”

  “Now we know, but we don’t have the real proof, right? We don’t actually have him with his hands on the code. I think I know how to get it, but I do need your programming skills.”

  “Oh, I get to contribute? Do I get to hear the plan too?” He knew he shouldn’t be amused, because this was deadly serious. This was Desiree’s reputation on the line, and his too, in the worst possible way. But his usual optimism was already back, because they had this, and they were going to be all right. He was sure, deep-down sure, all the way to his bones.

  “You definitely get to contribute,” she said, “because you’re also going to be doing the talking. We have a few meetings to set up. I’ll tell you what I’m thinking while we drive.”

  “All right,” he said. “I’m driving. Tell me.”

  Brandon met with them reluctantly, but he met with them.

  “Joe?” Brandon sat back on his own white leather couch, his boyish face twisted with bewilderment. “First it’s you, and now it’s Joe? Are you sure?”

  “A hundred percent,” Alec said. “You know how much I hated to believe it. You know how tight we’ve been. He’s been at my house every Christmas. He’s like a brother, at least I thought he was. But I thought it through, and it was the only answer. And then I did some research of my own, I won’t tell you what, and it’s confirmed. But I need your help to prove it.”

  “Anything,” Brandon said. “I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have believed that it could have been you. But when I heard about you and Rae, that you’d hid that from us . . . it seemed like anything was possible.”

  “I shouldn’t have,” Alec said. “I should have trusted you. Well,” he amended, “I should have trusted you.” He swallowed the anger at the betrayal and went on. “We were wrong, and we need your help, because we’re both under a cloud now. We need a third party to verify this.”

  He pulled out his laptop, began pressing keys. “I’ve put a copy of the beta version onto my own drive. That’s the bait. And this is the trap.”

  “What? How?”

  “I give you access,” Alec explained. “You’re my independent witness. When he goes for it, I’ve got you to verify that I showed it to you, and that he accessed it. We can take that to the board. They’ll believe us, if you’re backing me. And once they’ve nailed him, the rest of us are off the hook. The code’s safe, Joe’s out of it, and we’re all in the clear.”

  “But how?” Brandon objected again. “How will you know he’s got it, or safeguard it once he does? And how did you get access to the beta? They shut us down.”

  Alec smiled, and the smile wasn’t a nice one. “I always say Joe’s the best, don’t I?”

  “You do. So, how?”

  “He’s not the best,” Alec told him. “I am. I hacked Joe’s accounts a long time ago. I guess I’ve never really trusted him as much as I wanted to think I did. And as for the beta . . .” He laughed. “You think I wouldn’t keep separate access to my own code? That’s what TrueCrypt is for. The file looks empty, and the partition is undetectable. But it’s all there.”

  “They wiped the servers, though,” Brandon protested. “I’m sure it’s a done deal.”

  “Separate server entirely. It’s there. Only Joe and I know, only Joe and I have access. Until now.”

  “All right. If you say so, though it still seems risky to me. The entire beta version, right out there?”

  “It won’t be out there,” Alec insisted. “I’ll intercept it. But you need a live goat to catch a tiger. Joe would spot it if the code were a fake, so it has to be real. But, all right, I didn’t want to tell you, but I will. I’ve built in a booby trap. When Joe logs in, anything he downloads will be garbage.”

  “But that means the whole thing’s garbage,” Brandon said. “That you can’t use it.”

  “No, I can use it. But Joe can’t. He uses his creds, those land mines explode. But only if it’s him.”

  “How are you going to tell him, though, so he buys it? Joe’s no dummy either.”

  “He isn’t,” Alec agreed. “That’s why I’m going to tell him it’s you.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right.” Alec shot a glance across at Rae, and she nodded. “I tell him this same story, except I tell him I’m trying to trap you, and that I’m about to give you access. And when he’s got the beta, sitting right there for him to grab, with you all set up to take the fall for it? He’s going to grab it. Whether the board thinks it’s you or me or even Rae, that doesn’t matter to him. He’s imagining himself sitting back, pretending to be all wounded and depressed that he’s having to start over. With who knows how many millions in some offshore account. Don’t worry. He’s going to take the code. I’ll call you when the trap’s set, so you can watch for it. We’ll both be watching. Double proof.”

  He began typing. “I’m sending you my credentials now.”

  “Wait,” Brandon said in alarm. “Stop.”

  Alec lifted his fingers from the keys.

  “Email?” Brandon demanded. “Are you nuts? With everything else he’s done, you think Joe couldn’t get into your email? Write it down.” He got up, grabbed a pad of paper from the kitchen table. “I’ll use it, then I’ll shred it. No electronic trace.”

  Alec had to laugh at that. It wasn’t a cheerful laugh. “Man, you’re right. What was I thinking? With everything that’s been going on . . . I’m toast.”

  He copied the information down and shoved the pad across the stone coffee table to Brandon, then backspaced over the beginnings of his email, logged off and put his laptop away.

  “And now,” he said, getting up and watching Rae doing the same, “we go tell Joe. Wish us luck.”

  Brandon was still reeling, it was clear. “I just . . . I can’t believe it’s all happening. But, yeah. Good luck.”

  Talking to Joe was tougher. The same explanation, with one crucial difference. But that was the one that mattered.

  When they finished, Alec was s
weating. He got back into his car with Rae, leaned back against the seat, and sighed.

  “Ron next,” she prompted.

  “Yeah.” He started the car, put it in gear. “Ron.”

  “How sure are you of all this?” Ron pressed, when they were sitting in front of the massive emerald-green marble fireplace, filled with a decorative floral arrangement for the summer months, in the drawing room of the venture capitalist’s Pacific Heights mansion.

  “A hundred percent,” Alec assured him.

  Ron’s eyebrows went up. “No CEO B.S.,” he warned. “You tell me a hundred percent, you better have something more than logic and deduction to back it up.”

  “Here it is,” Rae said. She pulled her phone out of her purse, set it on the inlaid wood of the coffee table, and pressed buttons for her first voice memo. Veronica’s words tumbling out through the tears, telling a story of seduction, lies, and the betrayal of a friendship.

  “I assume,” Ron said when Rae had pressed the “stop” button at last, “that you recorded those other conversations too.”

  “We did,” Rae assured him, and played them for him.

  “You know that wouldn’t be admissible in court,” Ron reminded them. “Recorded conversations without the recorded party’s consent? No.”

  “It doesn’t have to be, does it?” It was Rae who answered. “All it has to do is clear Alec with the board, and give you the background you need to monitor the trap. The trap is all the evidence you need to put him out of business, whether or not you prosecute.”

  “Which you realize we won’t,” Ron said.

  “We realize it,” Alec said. “Shareholder value in a company whose code has been compromised? Whose code has even been rumored to be compromised? That stock price just took a dive.”

  “That’s right,” Ron said. “Persona non grata in the industry, yes. Prosecuted . . . unfortunately, no.”

  “Clearing Alec’s name,” Rae said. “Preserving the value of all his hard work. That’s what matters.”

  “All our hard work,” Alec said. “Our names. Everyone’s but his. That’s it.”