by I. O. Adler
“Thanks. I’ll be ready to catch them.”
Deputy Jerry followed Peter out the exit.
Nora remained visibly shaken. “You think they’re going to report us drinking?”
“Report me, you mean. Yeah, he will. But relax. I’ll tell the manager it’s my flask. But it doesn’t matter. Seems like this place isn’t what I’m looking for in a career after all.”
She unplugged her laptop and slid it into her bag. Checked the phone and saw a voicemail from Jenna waiting. At the very least, her sister had also been harassed by whoever was pretending to be their mom. The last thing either of them needed was for Peter to start barging into their lives.
She pulled on her hoodie.
It was time to see her in person and get answers. While neither of Jenna’s two boys were old enough to engage in such shenanigans, maybe Jenna had let some of Mom’s property go, including any of her devices or computers. Because someone had gotten into their mom’s identity and wasn’t being shy about letting the daughters of Sylvia Vincent know about the crime.
Chapter Three
Carmen had to park in the striped red zone in front of the garbage dumpster. Her sister Jenna’s townhouse lay just beyond the covered carports and the lights were still on.
She had texted her sister that she was coming over, but even as she had gotten onto the highway for the fifteen-minute drive she realized she should have finished her shift, dialed back her knee-jerk responses to Peter, and done what her dad had always told her.
“Play it cool.”
The life philosophy which had taken Dad places, she thought sourly. She dismissed the memories before she could get even angrier.
Jenna answered the door wearing purple sweats and gave Carmen a hug as she let her in. “I thought you were at work, Car.”
“I was. But this shouldn’t wait. You have Mom’s stuff in the spare room?”
“Yeah. But it’ll take time to go through everything. It’s just a prank, isn’t it? Something that we could do tomorrow?”
“The boys asleep?”
“Sent them to bed. But no, they’ll come out if we start banging around.”
“All I want is to get Mom’s phone and tablet. Change her passwords and that’ll put a stop to this. But I have to ask…did Zach or Landon play with either of the devices?”
“They’re eight and five. And the boxes are all sealed. I’ve checked.”
“Show me.”
The cluttered spare bedroom had a dozen boxes from the Johnson Space Center that contained their mother’s personal effects from her apartment. The phone and tablet were both inside one of the boxes. Neither had power. Once plugged in, both devices wanted to check for updates that didn’t exist.
Carmen began searching for networks on the tablet. “Is the public net up?”
“Pretty slow. We couldn’t watch anything tonight not on DVD.”
“That’s what happens when more than five people log on at the same time. Give me a sec.”
With her own phone she searched for a local meshnet. Found one. Only three bars of signal, but it was open and let her on without a password. Not secure by any means. Once she turned her phone into a hotspot, she got the tablet connected.
The email app chugged and didn’t appear to be doing anything.
Jenna chewed on a thumbnail. “It’s not working. Why isn’t it working?”
“Might take more than a few minutes to download two years’ worth of messages. The boys have school?”
“Yeah. They’re both so smart. Like it more than I ever did. Landon got his first homework and he was so happy.”
“My little nerd. I miss them.”
“Wish you had time to come by more.”
“I know. Night work means day sleep. And Dad.”
“But it’s okay for you to be away from your job now?”
“I got to take a few hours off tonight for a family emergency.”
The device continued to balk until finally the number count on the inbox began to tick upwards. But Carmen was interested in the messages sent. And there the messages were, with Jenna and her as the sole recipients.
It didn’t tell her much except someone had accessed the account. A mirrored device. Had to be. She went into the settings and changed the PINs and password. A two-factor authentication prompt appeared a moment later on her mother’s phone from the email provider. She confirmed the password change.
That took care of the emails. But what about the text messages? She wanted to bite her thumbnail but knew how much she hated it when her sister persisted in the childish habit.
How had the hackers sent text messages from her mom’s phone?
Texts via the internet were simple enough. It meant she would have to change the password on the mobile account as well. Ten minutes later, after slogging through more long wait times, it was finished.
Jenna nibbled on an index fingernail. “That’s it?”
“I wish. I think we’re just getting started. We need to do this with her bank, her credit cards, her brokerage, and anyplace else where she ever did business online.”
Her sister’s eyes were downcast. “I’m sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
“I should have done this two years ago.”
Carmen waved off the comment. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve had your hands full. I should have stepped up and done more. I love you.”
“You’ve always been so good to us. Even going to church with Zach and Landon when I wasn’t up for it.”
“Those couple of times? You know I’d do anything for you and the boys. Speaking of which, did you say anything to Peter about me?”
Jenna wrinkled her nose. “Peter? No, why?”
“It’s nothing. But he stopped by work to ask questions. Then he started aggressively asking me out. Weird.”
“He always was. I can call him if you want. I didn’t say anything, didn’t hint anything…I’m not even sure the last time we talked. At church he sits with his dad and barely says a word to me when he comes over to visit with the boys. I’m okay with that.”
Carmen swiped through the pages of apps on her mom’s phone and knew there was more to be done. But she stifled a yawn.
Her sister looked at her with unmasked concern. “You look exhausted. Take the phone and tablet home with you if you want.”
“Nah. I think it’s crisis averted. At least no one will be texting or emailing pretending to be Mom. The accounts shouldn’t even be up. We need to stop autopay on everything. Her Visa’s still drafting off the brokerage account. We can tackle it this weekend, okay?”
“We never talk much about her. We didn’t even have a funeral. There’s just all…this.” Jenna gestured to the walls of boxes. “But you never give up. On me or her.”
The air in the townhouse was suddenly too hot. “We’ll work more on this soon. Remember when Mom was going to leave, during that interview with that Sacramento TV weatherman? She said when she came back she’d be the queen of Mars.”
“I remember.”
They hugged their goodbye and Carmen was out the door. But Jenna’s last words lingered. Had her sister forgotten that Carmen hadn’t even said goodbye when their mother departed the last time for Texas and had flaked on their final visit over teleconference with Mom before launch day?
She considered returning to the water treatment plant. Leaving had been rash. If Peter or the deputy talked to her manager, it would be their word versus hers and her workmate Nora’s. She had her own bills to pay.
But there was something about the messages from whoever was pretending to be their mother that continued to bother her. She knew she should at least go home and get some rest. But instead she drove around the corner to where she could still access the meshnet and logged in.
Chapter Four
A little past three in the morning the network went to sleep. Carmen had been nodding off in the driver’s seat of her subcompact, the laptop propped open on the gear
shift knob, the car windows damp with condensation. She searched again for the network but the signal was gone.
Time to go home, check on Dad’s nighttime nurse, and climb into bed. The previous day’s lingering problems could be untangled once she got up at noon. She might still salvage her job. Seeing Jenna had felt good.
But the fake message from her mother continued to haunt her.
Why “help me”?
This went beyond someone trying to steal a dead astronaut’s identity. The ruse reeked of malice.
Carmen could take it, but she worried about Jenna. Her sister remained fragile after her husband abandoned her not six months after the disaster. Left her and ran off with one of Jenna’s Bible fellowship youth counselors, no less. Carmen had tirelessly continued trying to uncover the truth of their mother’s fate, but she had managed to support Jenna and the boys by being there daily while also juggling her own work and their dad’s care.
The last thing Jenna needed was to have her sister’s delicately balanced world knocked off track by some prank.
Following the Big Wipe they had endured a few months of reporters looking for a story. As if there wasn’t enough anguish in the world. Jenna had consented to several interviews about their loss; Carmen had never returned a single phone call or message to any reporter. But the news had been full of griefbait stories back then, and eventually the Vincent girls had been forgotten and left alone.
Carmen put the keys in the ignition. Her phone rang. It was a number she didn’t recognize. She waited for a moment, saw the voicemail light up, and was surprised she could retrieve the message so easily.
“Hello, Jenna Vincent. This is Agent Barrett with the Department of Homeland Security. I apologize for the late call, but I need to talk to you to ask you a few questions. At your convenience, could you call me at this number?”
Carmen felt a chill run down her spine. Stared at the number. Turned on her laptop and desperately tried to find any signal where she could do a quick search, but there were no networks showing. She knew she could go back inside her sister’s place, try a legit search, but none of the darknet databases would be available that could instantly tell her whose phone had just called her.
A car approached.
She snapped shut the laptop and scooched down. The bright lights illuminated the inside of her car as the vehicle crawled past. The car lingered at the nearest stop sign before turning a corner and vanishing.
She forced herself to take a breath.
Play it cool.
It could be anyone calling her. She definitely wasn’t going to call back. Peter. It had to be. This was going too far, beyond harassment. But playing it cool meant not being stupid or rash. She would tackle this in the morning and make Peter pay for trying to scare her and her sister.
Dishes sat stacked in the sink. A pot with cold crusted oatmeal remained on the stove.
Carmen walked softly through the kitchen and found her father on the recliner asleep, a thin blanket tucked around him, his oxygen tube around his nose but hanging loose. She found herself waiting for him to take a breath. Finally he let out a raspy exhalation.
A stack of books teetered on a tiny side table and he had a hardback lying page down on his lap.
Carmen used the dust jacket as a marker and closed the book, setting it aside. Then she covered him with a thicker blanket and turned the light off.
The bed in the spare bedroom remained made up. No nurse. She returned to the kitchen to inspect the pill tracker. Her father’s evening meds had been taken. She considered the dishes but instead headed for her bedroom and went to sleep.
Her head felt thick the next morning and it took several bleary moments to realize that the previous night’s events had actually happened. But before she could begin to tackle her to-do list, which included checking on Jenna and finding Peter so she could rip him to shreds for harassing them, she needed coffee and to get her father squared away.
If the night nurse, Stephanie, had flaked out, she would have to be replaced. Too bad. Carmen had liked the woman. She knew her medicine and could be firm with Carmen’s dad.
She found her father on his walker in the kitchen.
He was wearing his green bathrobe and was stirring a pot of oatmeal. His tousled thin gray hair dangled about his dark scalp and wrinkled face. “Good morning, baby.”
She kissed his grizzled cheek. “That pot wasn’t clean.”
“Still isn’t. Wasn’t done with it. Besides, those burnt remnants are flavor crystals.”
“Dad, it’s gross.” But there would be no arguing the point with him. She took a dish from the cupboard and began to prepare a bowl of cold cereal for herself. “So what happened to Stephanie?”
“Fired her.”
“What happened?”
He didn’t look up from his pot. “She was trying to take over when I was fixing supper.”
“She was doing her job.”
“Which I manage to do just fine. I took my meds. I made my potatoes. Don’t need no stranger butting in.”
Carmen set the box of muesli down and forced herself to speak calmly. “She was here to make sure you don’t fall. You know that. You need help going to bed, going bathroom…I can’t do it all by myself. We agreed to have help.”
He kept stirring. “Well, this one didn’t work out.”
She placed her bowl down on the kitchen table, shoving a pile of mail aside. She got the milk and poured it over the cereal before putting the jug back and slamming the refrigerator door. The coffee pot was on but almost empty. She poured the last of it into a cup, not even wanting to look at her father as she maneuvered around him. His oatmeal had turned into a thick steamy paste at the bottom of the pot.
“You’ll burn it.”
She turned the stove off, took the pot and spooned the oatmeal into a second bowl. This she set down next to hers before shoving the pot in amidst the rest of the dishes and filling it with water so it could soak. Her dad hadn’t moved, so she hurried him along and ignored his complaints as she got him seated. Didn’t wait for him as she began to eat her own cereal, which had grown soggy.
A white business card sat on top of one of the mail stacks.
Raymond Barrett, US Department of Homeland Security, Emergency Preparedness and Response. The card had a government logo to one side and both an office and mobile phone number.
“Dad, what’s this?”
Her father was just starting on his oatmeal. “Cop came by this morning. Was asking for you.”
“Cop? What cop? I didn’t hear the door.”
“You must have been asleep. Don’t matter none. I didn’t answer any questions and I certainly didn’t let him in.”
She set her spoon down. “What was he asking about?”
“I didn’t query him, baby. He wanted you is all I know and shoved his card through the mail slot when I told him I couldn’t help him.”
She suddenly wasn’t hungry. “What did he look like?”
“With my eyes? White man. That’s all I could see. You in trouble again?”
“I’m fine, Dad. Look, I’m going to call the care agency. See if they can send someone else over this evening. Then I’ve got to go check on some things. Promise me that whoever they send, you’ll be nice to them.”
“Can’t promise nothing. But I’ll try. Besides, I know that you’ll be there to care for me.”
Chapter Five
Her sister wasn’t answering the phone.
Carmen examined the card left by the Homeland Security agent. It was too good of a ruse. Did Peter have a fed as a contact? Or did one of his deputy friends? While making a card look this good couldn’t be that hard, it was too elaborate for a mouth breather like Peter. Yet if he was willing to go this far she didn’t want to underestimate him.
She had seen how Peter had ordered Deputy Jerry around. And the old-boy network of cops and the Peace Patrol might have nothing else on its agenda besides harassing her and her family.
Jen
na needed to be warned. Now if only she would pick up.
She sent a text sans emoticons. Call me.
Checking in with her boss at the sanitation district to explain her departure from work could wait. Carmen’s heart was thumping and she could barely see straight as she sped across town.
Peter Vogel lived down on Reservoir Road. She parked across the entry to the carport of his flat-roof duplex. His oversized blue Ford pickup was around the side. As she set the brake and stopped the engine a river of doubt flooded her mind. What if this Agent Barrett was real? What if someone else was pretending to be her mom?
But no, Peter was at the center of it all. It was the only answer that made sense after his visit to her work.
She pounded on the door. Waited a beat and pounded again. The sun-bleached wood rattled with each strike of her fist. She began slapping with the palm of her hand.
“Don’t you dare hide from me!”
Peter opened the door. He wore sweats and a Sacramento Kings tank top. His blond spiky hair was askew and his eyes squinted.
She held the agent’s card up in his face. “Who is this?”
“What?”
“I asked who is this? Who did you send to bother me and my dad? You know he’s sick. Sending a cop there so you can pressure me into going out with you? Are you serious?”
He was shaking his head as he tried to look at the card. “Carmen? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t send anyone to your house. And I don’t know anyone at Homeland Security.”
“Then who does? Did you tell one of the deputies to call them or impersonate them?”
“No! I didn’t do that. We stopped by your work last night because your name did show up on a list, but that was from the sheriff’s desk.”
She searched his darting eyes for any sign of a smirk. But he appeared genuinely befuddled.
Carmen fought to keep her voice calm and even. “Promise me this isn’t you, and that you aren’t sending messages to me and Jenna pretending to be our mom.”
