Broken Build (41 page)

She sniffed and held out her hands. “Arrest me.”

He stirred his latte and shook his head. “I have to have grounds other than a cockamamie story you cooked up.” He tapped the table with his long fingers. “Why are you so eager to be arrested?”

Her chest heaved and nausea bubbled in her gut. “I didn’t kill anyone, not Rodrigo, not Rey, and definitely not Jocelyn. If I’m arrested, the real killer will relax and you can catch him.”

He held up his hand. “Whoa, slow down. Jocelyn?”

The room spun as Jen tried to slow her breathing. “Read the poem ‘Ghost Ride’… chop shop… white car.”

Mathews patted her shoulder. “I’ll take Rey’s stick and have a discussion with the D.A.”

“I’ll cooperate to the fullest.” She dabbed her eyes with a napkin and put the copied stick in her purse.

He took her left hand and looked at the ring. “You love him, don’t you?”

“Yes. More than anything. Find his daughter. Please.”

The detective stood to leave. “I’ll let you have another evening with him. See you tomorrow morning.”

She turned her ring upside down and tucked the diamond into her palm. She’d have to return it before they arrested her. But for now, she’d treasure it secretly.

* * *

Jen stepped into her apartment and locked the door behind her. She turned on the lights. It looked just the way she’d left it. Her jacket was on the floor, and the locker key lay on the carpet near the bed.

Her phone beeped with a text message from Praveena:
Lester’s having trouble with labeling the auto-update fixes. Can you take a look?

Jen slumped into a chair at the kitchen table and booted her laptop. What now? Last time anyone tried auto-update it had wedged all the servers. She tapped a message to her group, letting them know she was on it. Soon, she was busy with patches, labels, and preparing the build system to link in the new changes.

Her stomach growled. It was close to nine and she’d forgotten to eat. Leaving her laptop open, Jen rummaged through the cabinets for oatmeal and peanut butter.

The lock clicked and the apartment door opened. Jen’s breath caught in her throat. Patty Brown, Sherry’s friend, stepped in, followed by Bruce and Emily, Vera’s six-year-old niece.

Jen looked from one to the other. “W-what are you doing here? Where’s Sherry?”

And what was Emily doing with them?

Bruce approached her; his hefty frame blocked the exit from the kitchen. His eyes narrowed and he tackled her, twisting her arm behind her back. Pain shot through her elbow and up to her shoulders.

“Bruce, what are you doing?” Jen shouted. He was her coworker. Why was he with Patty?

Adrenaline spiked painfully through her limbs, but she couldn’t get loose. He wrapped her wrists with plastic cable ties and Velcro-strapped her to a chair. Patty stood over her, sneering as if she smelled a skunk.

“What’s going on?” Jen struggled against the bonds, looking at Emily who sucked on a lollipop. “Why do you have her here?”

Patty slapped Jen’s face. “Where’s the memory stick?”

Jen’s cheek stung and she opened her mouth to scream, but Bruce gagged her with a stinky tube sock. Patty grabbed Jen’s purse and dumped the contents. “Ah, here it is. I waited for you at the CalTrain station all evening.”

She pocketed the stick and jumped to the laptop. “How wonderful you left yourself logged in.”

“Uncle Boo, why is that woman tied up?” Emily asked between licks on her lollipop.

Uncle Boo was Bruce?

“She’s an Evil Woman.” Bruce knelt by the little girl’s side. “She’s trying to blow up the world, and Superwoman over there has to stop her.”

“Should we call the police?” Emily asked.

“The police can’t stop her. Only Superwoman can.” He opened the fridge. “Hey, you want milk or apple juice? How about tuna or Spam?”

Emily wanted apple juice and tuna. Bruce served Emily the food, and they sat on the couch. He flipped on the TV. Jen’s chest tightened and her stomach clenched. Why were they acting as if this was a social visit while she was tied up?

Patty moved the laptop in view. “Show me which directory has the scalability libraries.”

Jen shook her head. Patty pressed cold steel against her temple. “Do what I say.”

Sweat popped over Jen’s forehead, and her teeth chattered under the nausea inducing sock. She shook her head again.

Patty leaned in and whispered, “See that little girl sitting on the sofa watching TV? She’s Dave’s daughter, Abby. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll shoot her, wrap your hand around this gun and help you shoot yourself in the head.”

Emily was Abby? Or was Patty using her as a decoy? Jen’s heart pole-vaulted as spikes of adrenaline sizzled through her insides. She had to get loose, find help. She couldn’t let anyone be hurt, Abby or not Abby.

“I’ve found it!” Patty said. “Now all I have to do is link the scalability libraries into the upgrade.” Her fingers made quick work on the keyboard. “I trigger auto-upgrade and flush it to the Mississippi servers. And flooey, everyone’s bids will be executed thousands of times until their credit cards max out.”

Jen strained against the ties, struggling not to throw up. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. She had to save the girl. She’d do anything.
Oh, God, please help me. Get me out of this. Please.

“What’s the password to the upload server?” Patty brought up the screen. “Bruce, untie her hand so she can type it in.”

Bruce sauntered over and cut the ties with a box knife. He let her use her right hand while twisting her left arm behind her back. Patty held the gun to her head. “Don’t force me to use it in front of your precious Abby.”

Jen typed the password.

“Change the password.” Patty looked at the clock on the oven while Bruce pecked in a new password and forced Jen to key in the old password. He zipped new ties around her wrists, bending her hands painfully behind her back and strapped her back to the chair.

A smile licked Patty’s thin lips as she hit the ‘Enter’ key. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

A dull heaviness pervaded Jen’s chest. They hadn’t much time. In about an hour, the virtual staging servers would upload the bad build to all of the Mississippi.com sites, and Dave’s company would be ruined. And what would Patty do to Emily? Jen had to save her, she just had to.

Bruce switched off the television and dragged a whiny Emily to her feet, promising her ice cream sundaes.

Patty stuck the gun in Jen’s ribs. She kissed Jen’s cheek and whispered, “I’m Sherry Miller, Dave’s first lover.”

* * *

 “Chief, you gotta see this.” Eddie barged into Dave’s office in the new location a few blocks from Lystra. Steve Tyler, Lystra’s CEO, looked up from the presentation they had been reviewing.

“What’s going on?” Dave asked.

Eddie rested his palms on the table. “There’s a build going on right now. I thought engineers hadn’t finished fixing the bugs.”

“Maybe they finished early.”

“I don’t like it.” Eddie shook his head. “It’s pushing the fixes to the staging servers at Lystra for auto-update. We’re still replacing our testbeds and setting up the lab. There’s no way this was tested.”

Dave shrugged an apologetic shoulder at Steve. He had to remain calm in front of his biggest investor. “It’s late, can we meet again tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, I was getting a bit hungry. It’s way after ten. See you.” He picked up his jacket and stepped out the door.

Heat rose under Dave’s collar, and he turned to the monitor. “Is Jen logged in? Send her an instant message.”

“I tried already, but she’s turned off messaging. She’s the one pushing the update through the Lystra cloud.”

A cold spear of fear pierced Dave’s heart.
Jen’s in trouble.
He called her cell phone. No answer. “She'd never do something like this without checking with me. She... she just wouldn’t.”

Dave grabbed his car keys to race out of the building when his cell phone rang.

“Hello, Dave, remember me?” A gravelly female voice with a slight drawl intoned through the earpiece.

“Who are you?” Dave’s throat was tight and dry.

“Oh, come, come. Don’t play dumb. It’s me, Sherry.” Her laughter cackled through the line.

Dave sunk into his seat. Sherry Miller. It figured. “What do you want?”

“It seems you have an emergency going on. In less than an hour, the Shopahol network will execute all outstanding bids thousands of times and max out every customer’s credit card. The only person who can stop this upload is with me. Would you like to speak to her?”

“Yes. Put her on.”

A young girl’s voice said in the background, “Why do I have to talk on the phone? I want chicken fingers. Okay. Hello.”

Who? What? Where was Jen? Dave rubbed his hand against his prickly buzz cut.

Voices urging the girl to say ‘Hello, Daddy’ could be heard in the background. Dave gripped the side of his face and dug in. What kind of sick game was Sherry playing?

“Hello, Daddy,” the young voice said. “How is Heaven?”

“Are you Abby?” Dave’s voice cracked.

“No, I’m Emily, and I want to go home.”

Dave coughed, unable to catch his breath. Emily acting as Abby? All part of the extortion. Sweat trickled down the side of his face.

The phone shuffled around. “Sherry back. Now listen and listen well. You’re going to meet me at Marina Baptist Church with the money. Come alone. If anyone’s around, get rid of them. Shut off your instant messaging and don’t try to contact anyone.”

Dave cupped the receiver. “Uh, Eddie. My mother’s on the phone. Shut Jen’s access to our network. Lock her account.”

He looked up from his laptop. “It won’t work. She’s changed the password. The image has already been built and is being uploaded to Mississippi’s servers.”

“Do what you can.” Dave waved him aside and grabbed his jacket. “I have to go.”

“And leave the code? Can’t you send someone to Jen’s house?”

“She’s not there. She went to a church activity. Please leave.” Dave gave Eddie a stern look to indicate the conversation was over.

Eddie backed to the door. “Fine, you sort it out.”

Dave picked up his keys and headed to his SUV. “Okay, I’m alone. What’s the deal?”

Sherry’s laughter scratched through the airwaves like fingernails on a chalkboard. “You can’t be three places at the same time. To save your company, you have to crack the password and stop the upload. To save your girlfriend, you have to go to her apartment. She’s tied with a time bomb next to her chair. I’ll even give you the password. It’s B-O-O-M. To save your daughter, you have to meet us at the Marina Baptist Church parking lot with the money. Don’t think of sending anyone else. If I don’t see you, I kill the girl.”

Dave swallowed a surge of bile. He’d buy time and tell her what she wanted to hear. “I’ll be at the church, and I’ll be alone. Just don’t hurt the girl. I’ll drop the money, and you hand over the girl unharmed.”

“Deal. Oh, and don’t bother calling the police. If my lookouts spot anything suspicious near Jen’s apartment or the church parking lot, they’ll call me and I simply won’t show. Bye-bye.”

The call ended.

Dave loosened his tie and fanned himself. Jen could die. Who could he call? He dialed Bruce, his lab tech. There was no answer. He tried Lisa. No answer. Who could he trust? Lester? Satish?

No, he couldn’t trust anyone, and he couldn’t endanger any of his employees. The image of the flipping sand-dollar crested in his mind. He’d save Jen, the woman he loved. The girl was a ruse. He dialed Vera’s number but hung up. How did he know she wasn’t involved in the plot?

* * *

Patty took Emily to the bathroom. Jen tried to appear disinterested, but raw, primal fear gripped her throat and crushed her chest. Bruce set the time bomb, a bundle of wires and pipes with a digital display attached to the top. The display counted down.

Jen relaxed and slumped in the chair. Once Patty left, she would wiggle the chair toward the bottle opener screwed into the side of the kitchen counter. She would rub the ties against it and free herself. Then she’d call the police.

What would she do once free? She’d pull the fire alarm. She didn’t know how to disarm the bomb, and she didn’t want her neighbors injured. Then she’d call Dave and warn him. She lowered her head to pray.

A sharp thud cracked behind her ear. Pain exploded through her head.

Chapter 40

Dave ran out the office door and bumped into a group of shocked employees.

“We can’t let the fix go through,” Praveena said. “It has a bug. We haven’t put a ceiling on it.”

Satish caught Dave’s arm. “Auto-update will crash all the servers. You have to stop it.”

Bob, the test manager, cut him off. “It was working as of last Friday. I downloaded the build that went out to Mississippi and tested auto-update on my desktop. The log showed it completed successfully.”

“Guys, guys. No matter what, we can’t allow the update to go through.” Dave handed Satish his badge. “Go to Lystra and tell them to shut down our pods. I’ll call Steve Tyler and tell him to allow it.”

He ran out the front door and left a voicemail with Steve Tyler. He popped the trunk of his SUV and checked the briefcases. Still heavy. Good.

He started the engine and jammed his foot on the accelerator. Jealous Sherry. This had nothing to do with Jen, but with him. Sherry had disappeared more than ten years ago, but the anger in her voice sounded like yesterday.

He sped toward Jen’s apartment. No one seemed to be tailing him. Thankfully traffic was light. He swung down the expressway, screeched around the corner and double parked in front of the manager’s office. So far, nothing had exploded. He pulled the fire alarm before rushing up the stairs.

The high-pitched whine caused residents to peer out their doors. With no time to explain, Dave dived through Jen’s open door.

“Jen? Where are you?” He checked the rooms. Empty. In the kitchen, a plastic drainpipe sealed with duct tape was attached to a digital readout, counting down with seventeen minutes to spare. A few people gathered at the door. Dave yelled, “There’s a bomb. Everyone out. Someone call the cops.”