“Considering I just got home from the hospital only to find my home a shambles and my computer and cameras missing...tapping into the cloud would be a no.”
The detective frowned. “I have a laptop in my cruiser. Perhaps you could use it to tap into your data.”
Kimo’s brow twisted. “I suppose I could.” She wasn’t fond of the detective or his interviewing techniques.
“I’ll be right back. And, yes, there’s a unit on its way to process this crime scene.”
After Sykes left the house, Rex met and held Kimo’s gaze. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Still a little weak, but I’m holding my own.”
Rex’s gaze swept over her face. “You say the word when you’ve had enough, and I’ll escort the detective out.”
It was nice to have someone worry about her for once. It had been a long time since her parents died. Not that she thought of Rex as a substitute for her parents—not with his rugged good looks, broad shoulders and the strength to carry her around like she was as light as a feather.
Talk about sweeping a girl off her feet… Her pulse skittered through her veins, her body heating all over again, especially at her core.
Moments later, Detective Sykes was back with a laptop sporting a hardened case. He flipped it open and turned it toward her.
Kimo didn’t like logging into a strange computer with her username and passwords, but that’s what it would be like if she went to a library. Surely, it would be more secure on a police detective’s device.
She quickly logged onto her cloud storage and waited for all the files to appear.
And waited...
Nothing came up. No files. No photos. No documents.
“What the—” She logged off and started over, keying in her username and password.
Again, the screen remained empty of the files she’d so meticulously organized with all the photos she’d taken for the past ten years.
“This can’t be right,” she said, her heart in her throat. “Something must be wrong with my storage provider.”
“Why do you say that?” Rex came to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder at the empty screen.
“My files. My photos. They’re not here. Everything’s gone.” She looked up a phone number for the data storage company and held out her hand toward Rex. “May I borrow your cell phone?”
He laid it in her palm. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to call and see if they’re having technical difficulties that could keep me from accessing my data.” She entered the numbers and placed the call.
Five minutes later, after working with their technical support, she ended the call and stared at the empty screen, her heart sinking to the pit of her belly. “It’s gone. Ten years of work...”
Gone.
Rex laid his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back gently until she leaned into him.
“Are you certain you entered your username and password correctly?” the detective asked.
“Yes,” Kimo said. “I logged in twice, and the tech support person verified. The files are gone.”
“Does that mean the photos you took yesterday are gone as well?” the detective asked.
She nodded, stunned and heartsick. “Everything. My laptop stored a lot of the images, and my desktop had copies of everything except what I took last night.”
“And both computers are gone,” Rex said.
The detective grunted. “I guess you don’t have the proof we need that there was a shipping container filled with dead people.”
