“Some guy named Ronan dropped it off.” My brows shoot up, the motion tugging on the cut on my cheek, and I gesture for him to open it. “Huh. Is this one of the beta testing units?”
Oh my God. Dax woke up Ronan to retrieve my home Alfie unit. “Um, yes. I’m just going to run some diagnostics on it.”
Ulysses cocks his head, his brown-eyed gaze boring into me. “You sure? Look, I know Noah was out of line, but you do look tired.”
“Nothing a couple of cups of tea and some debugging won’t cure.”
The look he gives me says he knows I’m full of shit, but he doesn’t press. “Okay. You need anything else before I go try to keep Cyndi from running amok with the party planning and hiring a clown and a face painter?”
“Just some peace and quiet,” I say with a chuckle. “Cleaning up the mess I made took half the night. And I still have one bug on my plate to track down before we can declare this code shippable.”
“Whatever you say. But…” Ulysses pauses with his hand on the door handle, “you sure it was a can that did that to you? If that little creep put his hands on you—”
“Kyle didn’t do this. I swear. Now, shoo. Oh, and can you send a beta unit here?” I pass him a Post-it note with Dax’s office address on it.
“On it.” With a final frown, he slips out the door.
Lifting my home unit carefully, I cradle it in my arms. She’s been sitting in my living room for six months. Doing everything for me. Monitoring my security cameras, ordering my groceries, turning my lights off and on whenever I ask. Booking airline tickets and rental cars. Reminding me of doctor’s appointments, holidays, taxes. Heck, I depend on her to play music for me when I’m sad or lonely.
“I’m going to figure out what’s wrong with you, Alfie,” I say quietly as I plug her into my computer and launch her system diagnostics. “You’re going to be just fine.”
If only I believed that.
Three hours later, all I have to show for my work is a raging headache. I’ve gone through my entire stash of Post-it notes, and I’m no closer to finding out why the unit failed.
Every muscle in my body protests when I push to my feet. “Shit,” I hiss. Maybe I should have let Dax take me to the hospital. My shoulder throbs, and I rummage around in my briefcase for a bottle of aspirin.
The office walls feel like they’re closing in on me. I need more Post-it notes. And coffee. And to look at something besides lines and lines of letters and numbers that tell me nothing.
In the supply room, I snag two more packages of my favorite sky blue sticky notes, and I’m about to head for the coffee machine when I trip over a box on the floor and land hard on my knees. “Dammit,” I mutter. For a moment, Dax’s face flashes behind my eyes. The shock and confusion as he hit the floor. I can’t believe I didn’t think about picking up my bag. Of course he wouldn’t see it.
I admit, I kind of miss him. I felt safe around him. No one would come after me here. But unease still crawls along my spine at every unexpected noise. Every loud cheer from the bullpen. Every ding telling me about a new email message.
“Get up,” I whisper. “The sooner you figure out this mess, the sooner you can get out of here and maybe…we’ll finish what we started this morning.”
Grabbing the box, I realize what’s in it. All the junk from Kyle’s desk. Little vinyl toys, a small LEGO replica of the Starship Enterprise, his coffee mug—with a bit of mold in the bottom, ugh—and a ratty old notebook with loose pages. I can’t leave the mug to grow legs and walk out of here on its own, so I snag it with two fingers and lift it gently. But one of the notebook pages sticks to the bottom.
Proc 28t29
Access codes???
Security protocol ZetaEpsilon
Who?
Kyle’s notes don’t make any sense. We don’t have a security protocol ZetaEpsilon. Alfie’s security subroutines are named for superheroes. What access codes? Every command sent from Beacon Hill’s servers to Alfie devices relies on the most sophisticated encryption money can buy. There are no access codes.
Kyle was onto something. Something…bad. All of his rantings. Asking me how I could compromise her like that.
Could he have found something in Alfie’s code? Something I didn’t see? And then…shit. I ignored him. Over and over again. No wonder he threatened me. I have to figure this out. Throwing the moldy mug back into the box, I snatch up the notebook and clutch it to my chest.
As I round the corner, I run smack into Noah. Literally. Several of the notebook pages slip from my grasp, and Noah bends down to pick them up. Please don’t look at them.
Thank God, he’s still ticked off from earlier. “Might want to watch your step, Evianna,” he says flatly. “Oh, and we’re starting the party at 6:00 p.m. tomorrow”
I toss a quick “thanks” over my shoulder as I rush back to my office. I have to figure out what Kyle knows. Or…knew. I just hope there’s enough in this notebook to point me in the right direction.
17
