Andy pondered the offer; then he extended his hand. “Yeah, I guess it’s a deal, Dad.”
Jake shook on it.
“But I want you to do something for me,” Andy said.
“Anything, but what I said I wouldn’t do.”
“I want you to think about dismantling the bug-out location. I’m not asking you to do it. I’m just asking you to give it some real serious consideration.”
“It’s not happening, son.”
“Just think about it, Dad. That’s all I’m asking.”
Jake gazed out the window and said nothing. Andy gripped his father’s arm.
He’s trying to reach you. . . . Listen to him. . . .
“Please,” Andy pleaded.
Jake saw the desperation in his son’s eyes.
“Yeah, buddy,” he said. “I’ll think it over. Promise.”
The rest of the drive back to Winston was uneventful. They stopped at McDonald’s for a couple of shakes and some burgers, and made excellent time the rest of the way home. Jake kept the conversation light. They talked about music and TV shows, Andy’s classes and college, and Vines that his son found endlessly amusing. Little by little, Jake would goad Andy back into the life. He felt hopeful, because Andy’s decision put them both at risk.
The sun had nearly set when Jake turned onto the dirt road that led to the trailer a quarter mile away. The tough winter had left deep ruts in the road, and Jake imagined making a midnight dash to his bug-out location, driving right over those divots using his truck the way he intended when he bought it.
As Jake pulled into his driveway, the Tahoe’s headlights illuminated the figure of a woman sitting on the stairs at the trailer’s front door. Jake came to an abrupt stop and cut the engine, but he kept the headlights on so he could see the person clearly.
His jaw dropped.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.
Andy followed his father’s gaze, and his eyes went wide as well.
The woman sitting on the front steps smoking a cigarette didn’t look all that different from her pictures—the pictures in the memory book, the pictures seared into his consciousness. The years hadn’t aged her beyond recognition. Andy knew his mother.
He’d know her anywhere.
CHAPTER 13
Laura.
Jake shut off the Tahoe’s headlamps, but the spot over the front door shone down on Laura as if she were the focus of some play.
On the pitching mound, feelings didn’t matter, actions did. After baseball, Jake had continued to use actions to dampen his feelings. In this instant, all that changed. Emotions came at Jake so hard and so fast, he had to sit in the truck a moment to get his bearings.
Eventually Jake got out, but Andy didn’t budge. He looked weak, stunned, and could only stare openmouthed at his mother.
Jake approached Laura with caution, as if fast footsteps or a sudden movement might scare her off. The pounding of his heart drowned out all sound. Jake stopped a few feet from the front stairs and tried to relax his jaw muscles.
Laura took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke out the side of her mouth. Her head was tilted to the right, and her long, blond hair cascaded across her shoulders in a way Jake remembered and adored. It was brisk outside, and Laura was dressed for the weather in a thick green parka, jeans, and hiking boots.
Laura’s car was parked off to the side in the little pullout used to make a three-point turn. It made Jake sort of sad to see Laura driving a Chevy, a beat-up Impala, because she was always so proud of her fancy cars. Laura had left them with hope of having a better life. Up close, it was clear she had been chasing that dream ever since, and the years had been harder on her than they had been on Jake.
While Laura had smoked some in high school, she’d shelved the habit after they married, occasionally having a cigarette or two when they went out for drinks. It appeared that Laura had made it a habit once more. Jake could see where her skin had wrinkled and puffiness marred the underside of her eyes. But nothing truly dampened her beauty; and while Laura’s hair was less lustrous than he remembered, her mouth was the same as ever.
“Hi, Jake. You look good.”
Jake scratched at his head, trying to make sense of it all. His emotions went wild. He was exhilarated, dazed, and angry. He’d never experienced anything like this before. He could only imagine how Andy was feeling.
“What are you doing here, Laura?”
Laura stood and took a few steps toward him. Her eyes were like two warm pools, inviting him inside, pleading to forgive and forget.
“I’ve been thinking about you, about us,” Laura said.
She came closer. Every move—the dip of her shoulder, that playful upturn of her mouth, a slight list of her head to one side—it was all so Laura, so familiar to Jake. He could tell right away she was flirting, acting coy, and gauging his reaction to see if he, too, could pretend she had never walked away.
But he couldn’t play along. Jake folded his arms across his chest, closing himself off. Laura took another step toward him, and Jake turned his head to look back at Andy. His son was sitting inside the truck, eyes lowered. He couldn’t watch, and Jake couldn’t blame him.
“This isn’t right, Laura,” Jake said. “You shouldn’t have come around here like this. Better if you had called. Given us some warning.”
Laura was close enough to reach out and touch Jake’s shoulder. When she did, he didn’t flinch. He didn’t feel a spark, either, like he had when they first started to date in high school. Still, something was there, a little echo from the love they once had shared.
Laura said, “I didn’t want you to say no.”
It was exactly how Laura would think.
Laura peered over Jake’s shoulder at the Tahoe. “Is he in there? Is that Andy?”
Jake nodded. “He’s in there, but I’m not calling for him. If he wants to talk to you, he’ll open the door himself.”
Laura looked surprised. “He knows it’s me?” she asked.
The hopefulness in Laura’s voice again made Jake feel sorry for her. She’d missed so much of the good stuff. Andy had given Jake’s life shape and purpose, and Laura had spurned it all to chase down the hope of a better tomorrow. But what was she really chasing? An easier life? More money? Jake had never thought Laura stopped loving her son, but she did stop loving her life. For that, Andy had paid the heaviest price.
“I gave him a book of pictures,” Jake said. “You haven’t changed much, Laura. It’s still you.”
Laura gave an indifferent shrug, but her act didn’t fool Jake. She was clearly pleased by the compliment. “Has he talked about me much?” she asked.
“Your name has come up a few times.”
Laura smiled, and Jake broke away from her gaze. He couldn’t stare at her for long without seeing the past. Plenty of good memories offset the bad. Of course there were the fights, the blame and shame for the accident, dishes shattered against the kitchen wall, but time brushed clean the intensity of those memories—the good feelings that came from being in Laura’s presence were easy for Jake to recall.
At the stadium, she had been a fixture in the stands—always cheering him on, her voice carrying above the others, filling him with encouragement. In bed, Laura had been inventive and uninhibited, and her touch was not easily forgotten. In a way, Laura’s sudden arrival made Jake fully aware of his growing feelings for Ellie. Laura was the past, whereas Ellie could very well be his future.
Laura reached for another smoke, but something made her put the pack away. “How’d you know I was here?” Jake asked.
“Facebook,” Laura said.
“Facebook?”
“I’m friends with Andy.”
“Oh, shit, Laura.”
“Of course I didn’t tell him it was me. I used a picture of a girl I . . . I know.”
From the way Laura paused, Jake suspected the picture was the daughter of a man she’d been with. Maybe her own daughter—what did he
know?
“You’re going to have to tell him about the Facebook account.”
“I will,” Laura said.
There was a moment of silence that Jake wanted to fill, but he couldn’t find the words.
“Where have you been?” he finally asked.
“Around,” Laura said. “A lot of time in California. The last couple of years I’ve been living with my mom. She died a few months ago.”
Jake’s eyes became downcast. He’d always been fond of Laura’s mom and dad. However, after Laura left, they withdrew from Jake and from Andy, feeling it wouldn’t be fair to Andy to be a part of his life. He was too young to know them, and their presence would have been confusing and a reminder of his mother’s abandonment. Jake didn’t agree. Why deprive a child of his grandparents? But the decision was made and final. Laura didn’t just remove herself from the family; she took all the relationships tethered to her as well.
“I’m so sorry, Laura. Your mom was a wonderful woman.”
“My dad’s been doing okay, but he misses her.”
“Is that why you came looking for me? For us?”
Laura got a faraway look in her eyes. “I guess Mom’s passing put things in a different light.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
The silence returned.
“What do you want, Laura?”
Laura tried to swallow a sob, but her tight lips couldn’t hold it in. “I want to see my son. I want to see Andy. I want so much.” Tears pooled in her eyelids and fell freely, and her body convulsed as she gasped while weeping. “I’m so sorry. I’ve messed so much up.”
Jake took a step toward her. The instinct to comfort had not abated with the years. But he stopped and turned at the sound of a car door opening. He saw Andy approaching, hands stuffed into the pocket of his sweatshirt, eyes cast down.
Andy stopped a few feet away from Laura. “You think you can just show up here and start to cry and make me feel sorry for you? How about my tears? I don’t think you felt sorry for a single one.”
Laura brushed her eyes clear with the back of her hand.
“Please, Andy. Let’s talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Andy sprinted for the woods. Laura got ready to pursue him, but Jake lowered his arm like a barricade and held her in place.
“Where’s he’s going?” she asked.
“He wants to be alone,” Jake said.
“In the woods by himself? Aren’t you going to go after him?”
Jake couldn’t suppress a smile. “Trust me, Laura, he’ll be more than all right on his own out there. Where are you staying?”
Laura craned her neck to look back at the trailer.
“Any extra room here?”
Jake chortled. “You’re really something,” he said. “If the circumstances were different, I’d honestly be tempted. I won’t lie to you. I’ve always cared for you, and I’ve missed you. I want to know where you’ve been all these years, what happened to you. I want to know it all. But this is Andy’s home, too, and we’ve got to respect him.”
“You’re seeing somebody, aren’t you?” Laura asked.
“I am.”
“Do you love her?”
Jake thought a beat. “I do.”
And maybe soon, I’ll even tell her that myself.
Jake fished sixty dollars out of his wallet. “There’s a Motel 6 a couple miles down Route 120. I’ll give you my number. You can check in with me in the morning and we’ll see about getting you and Andy together. But it’s going to be up to him, not me, to make it happen.”
Laura nodded. She obviously wasn’t thrilled, but she took the proffered cash anyway. “Thanks, Jake. You always were a sweetheart.”
“Yeah, maybe so,” Jake said. “But you’re going to do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re going to unfriend Andy. Tonight. Find a computer and get it done. If you’re going to come back into our son’s life, you’re going to do it with honesty.”
Again Jake thought of Ellie, and he knew she deserved the same.
CHAPTER 14
Given the number of student organizations on campus and the limited amount of available space, the CB-B10 conference room, in the basement of the Cargill Building, should have been booked constantly, but it was no longer in the system. Pixie had hacked the online reservation system and deleted the windowless room from the available inventory, essentially making it disappear. Because students could no longer reserve CB-B10, and because the administrative folks knew it was not to be commissioned for classroom use, it was available to The Shire as a dedicated meeting spot. They had renamed it “Sherwood Forest,” in deference to the theme of their operation.
Cargill was not centrally located on campus. Sometimes the distance made it more practical to meet in The Quad or at one of the school’s many lunchrooms between classes. For this particular gathering, though, Andy wanted to use Sherwood Forest. The mood of the six young people seated around the solid oak conference table was somber and tense.
“This meeting will come to order,” Andy began. “Let’s take roll call.”
Solomon groaned. “Dude, you sound like such an anus when you get all formal. Can’t we skip this part and just get on with it?”
“It’s important,” Hilary said. Solomon rolled his eyes, because Hilary was always coming to Andy’s defense. “Roll call, minutes of our meetings, our charter—these things are what give our group structure,” Hilary added.
“Even French club doesn’t have roll call, and they’re uptight about everything,” Rafa said.
Andy slammed his palm hard against the table. The sound got everyone’s attention. “Hey, people, wake up! I mean it! We’re in deep shit here, if you haven’t figured it out yet. If you don’t want to do roll call, don’t do it. I don’t care. Let’s move on.”
Roll call and other formalities aside, all six members were present: Pixie (aka Troy), David (aka Dark Matter), Rafa, Solomon, Andy, and Hilary. The Shire.
“What have you got, Pixie?” Andy asked.
“Let’s start with the obvious.” Pixie pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. He was wearing his usual Western-style plaid shirt, dark jeans, and well-worn Doc Martens originals. “How many people had the private cryptographic key to unlock our specific address on the bitcoin block chain?”
Andy nodded. It was a fine question to ask. A bitcoin private key was nothing but a long string of numbers and letters; with digital currency, that was ultimately what defined ownership. You couldn’t stuff a bitcoin in your wallet, but you could use the private key to unlock the cash. Stealing the money only required getting that key.
“We all had access,” David said. In a fluid and practiced motion, he pulled his thick hair into a ponytail and tied it off with a rubber elastic. “Isn’t that the problem?”
“Did we all have access?” Pixie asked. “Who here actually used the key to look at the block chain? I didn’t.”
“Can you prove that?” Solomon asked. He popped a Twix bar into his mouth as if it were a cigar; then he fixed Pixie with a skeptical glance. “Let’s be honest here. We can’t trust each other anymore. We all had access in some way because we all knew where the key was. It’s as simple as that. Everyone here is a suspect.” He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin, as though he’d just gotten to the heart of the matter—without roll call.
“I told you the wallet would never be safe on a computer connected to the Internet!” Rafa snapped. Never one to sit still, Rafa bounded to his feet and began to bounce on his heels, leaning on the back of his chair for support. He pointed at Andy. “I told you,” he repeated.
“It was protected,” David said. “I had the best firewall running.”
“But did you set up a cloud backup service, David?” Pixie asked. “Or use Ubuntu on a machine with zero connections and zero blocks to generate the wallet-dot-dat file? Or any of the other thirteen steps I told you to follow?�
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David/Dark Matter leapt from his chair and pointed his own accusatory finger at Pixie. “Maybe you took it. Maybe you did it just to teach me a lesson.”
Pixie pushed his chair back and puffed his chest as much as he could. If his dad had been there, he’d have seen a Troy who was worthy of the tough-guy name. “You really think I have the money? Is that what you think?”
Hilary banged her fist against the conference table. It was hot and stuffy in the cramped room. She had taken off her button-down shirt to reveal the black T-shirt underneath: a graphic of the evolution of man, going from ape to biped and concluding with a modern-day human walking and texting.
“Enough! You guys are like a couple of squabbling kids. This isn’t going to help anybody,” she said.
David and Pixie held their stare-down confrontation a couple more seconds before they retreated to their respective chairs.
“The good news is that we can see the bitcoins in the ledger,” said Hilary.
“I can also see Jupiter through my telescope,” Solomon said, “but that doesn’t mean I can go there.”
“I’ve never seen you use that telescope to scope out anything except the girls in Hamilton Hall,” Rafa said.
“Hey, numbnuts, I live in Hamilton Hall,” Hilary said.
Rafa and Solomon broke eye contact and fell silent. Their body language suggested the lens of Solomon’s telescope might have once fallen on her.
“Really, guys?” Hilary said with a slightly amused expression.
“Hil, it was an accident, I swear,” Solomon said.
“Guys, can we focus here?” Andy asked. “Hilary is right. We can still see the coins on the ledger. That means we can tap the address if the owner tries to sell them.”
“Not necessarily,” Pixie countered. “If somebody tumbles the bitcoins to a clean address that we don’t know, those coins will vanish.”
“And they can do it, too,” Rafa said. “They’ll sip the coins ten or so at a time, and there’s no way to spot the transaction, especially if the tumblers split the payouts. The bitcoins will end up somewhere on the block chain that we won’t know about. Then they’ll be gone, and gone for good.”
Constant Fear Page 9
