Page 87 of Chasing Headlines
Leaving me behind.
And she never looked back.
A red-haired girl answered the door and let us in. Me and the bobblehead that was the only person I maybe didn't wholly distrust.
She gave us a bleary-eyed look. “Hey Antonio.”
He gave her a salute with two fingers.
“I’ll take those.” She held out her hands toward my armful of jumbled tech shit: laptop, phone, wifi repeater, streaming stick,and fitness watch. I glanced at Jimenez. He crossed his arms and took a deep breath.
“Stop being an idiot, ‘mano. Cat’s trying to help you.” He smiled at her. “Thanks, chica. We owe you one.”
A tug at the corner of her lips. “It's the job. You can sit over there while you wait to see if Hilda stops by.” Her gaze settled on me, and she cleared her throat. “Before the caffeine wears off. Again.” She wiggled her fingers at the jumble of stuff. I sighed and handed her my phone and watch. She shook her head when I tried to hand her the streaming stick.
“She said everything?—”
“That one has some safeguards on it. Would require a bit more skill than the one we're after.”
“Sure. So, where do you want this?” I held up the repeater and laptop.
She pointed at the computer. “I’ll take that first. Bring it this way. I assume you’re the infamous Cooper.”
I followed her to her desk, work area, whatever. And refrained from asking about the 'infamous' remark.
“Which device did you first open the email on?”
“My phone.”
She nodded as she plugged a bluetooth receiver into my laptop. “Did you open it on your computer later?”
I ran a hand over my hair and winced. “Yeah.”
“Preview pane on?” She sat down.
“Yeah.”
She powered on my device. “Password?” She called out over her shoulder. I got the impression she asked for it out of courtesy more than necessity.
I spelled out the alphanumeric code as she typed.
“Click anything?”
“I don’t remember. I should know better, but I might have enabled the content when it asked. The message said it was fromCoachNevins which seemed a bit off.”
“Did you report it?”
“No, I went to ask him about it, but he wasn’t around at the time. Kinda forgot after that.” My stomach twisted as it sank. “He uh took his computer to the help desk. That's why he wasn't around that day.”
“I’ll call help desk and ask. Could be something.”
“Ok.” I ran a hand through my hair and paced. My twisted-up stomach sank lower—pulling a bunch of nerves in my chest. I didn't like this. Any of it. But the red-headed chick . . . She did seem like she was trying to help.
“You can take the phone and the rest of your stuff.” Her head tilted in the direction of the door. “The MAC address of your laptop matches the asset tracker.”
“Oh.” I stopped pacing.
“You can go. I’ve got this.” Her fingers typed at a speed sprinters would admire. Commands, lines of python scripting plastered one screen. Outputs I didn't understand crawled across the other.