Wake Up to Murder (A Ricki Rydell Mystery Book 2) Page 8

  “Do you know anything about computer viruses?” Ricki figured her brother would be out on patrol, but he could answer a simple question such as this. “I think my computer might be infected.”

  “Check online for open source anti-virus software.” Ricki wrote down a few of the names he rattled off, all of them free. She liked free. “Do you know who would be really good at answering your question?”

  Ricki had a feeling she knew who he was going to mention. “Let me guess. Damon?”

  “Golly, you sure are smart. Anyway, I have to go. Give him a call. It might do you some good, anyway.”

  “I will. I would like to figure it out on my own first, though.”

  Ricki didn’t waste any time finding an anti-virus, anti-malware program to scan her computer for the next hour. When the program finished running, she was none too happy to find she had a few viruses on her computer. Nothing major, but it was enough to make her think twice about shopping online at just any old website. If she couldn’t find what she was searching for at the major retailers, then she just wouldn’t buy it. After a minor freak-out, she changed the passwords to all her accounts to complicated phrases and nonsensical sequences. She had to scribble them down on a notepad or she’d forget them.

  As for damage control, she thought about it while the program cleaned her computer of ugly stuff. She thought of only one way that would clear everything up: she needed to go back on Wake Up, Somerset. Somehow, she had to convince Taryn and the producers to let her go back on the show. She wanted a chance to clear her good name. Plus, it would give her an opportunity to be around the producers and Taryn once more so she could begin asking questions and digging around the studio for clues. Someone in that building had to know something about Kari.

  As she closed the programs she used to clean up her computer, an email notification popped up in her browser. When she saw Marty’s name, she froze. She didn’t think it was possible for her heart to flutter for him anymore, but there it was, tickling her ribs. In this case, though, her heart wasn’t fluttering because of love; it fluttered because she knew he was in pain and she wanted to help him in some way. Her hand shook over the touchpad, making her second guess herself and what she was doing. Maybe Becca read something in her eyes that she was hiding from herself. She shook the thought away and opened the email.

  Ricki, thanks for your kind words. I know it must’ve been hard for you to express such thoughts, but you must know I truly appreciated them. That said, I would also appreciate it if you would just give me my space while I deal with this. I know I hurt you, but it’s time to move on. You really need to let go of the past and stop sending me so many emails. Thirteen in the past two months is a bit excessive, don’t you think? Anyway, I promised myself when I started this email that I wasn’t going to get angry. I have enough on my mind right now. Marty.

  Thirteen emails? What was he even talking about? Ricki now knew for certain that someone had hacked into her email account. But why would they bombard her ex with a bunch of emails, and what did those emails say? She checked her Sent folder again to see if there was any evidence of those emails. There wasn’t. She took small comfort in the fact that she had just changed her password to something so difficult no one would figure it out even if they were standing over her shoulder watching her typing it in. To be on the safe side, she locked all her new passwords in the safe. No one was going to hack her again.

  The thought of Marty reading thirteen emails that she had allegedly sent but never written, made her cringe. What he must think of her. She had no way of knowing what was in those emails, but it would explain so much. It would explain why Kari acted the way she did toward Ricki during their get-to-know-you dinner. It would explain Marty’s hostility when they ran into each other at the studio. She wanted to respect his wishes and leave him alone while he dealt with his grief, but she had to let him know her account had been hacked. Thirteen was excessive. She had never sent anyone thirteen emails unless it was part of an ongoing conversation. Do you know who sends thirteen emails in two months to an unresponsive recipient? Stalkers, that’s who. She wasn’t a stalker or a knife wielding crazy person like in that one movie. No boiled bunnies in Ricki Rydell’s future. She wrote a quick email explaining what had happened, apologizing, hoping he would understand, hoping he didn’t think she was lying. What happened next was out of her control, and she would have to accept the outcome.

  As important as it was to ask Marty questions about Kari to start her own search, she would leave him alone for now. In the meantime, she would focus her attention on Taryn and the producers, especially Jim as he said he knew her from a few years back. While the police investigated the people at the conference, she would concentrate her efforts locally. Once again, she would have to convince her brother to keep his ear to the ground and tell her what was going on at the police station. This murder investigation was going to require the help of a few people. Becca was always game for just about anything. Chris was her middle-man. And Damon?

  Ricki tapped her fingers on her desk. What about Damon? He was a well-traveled man who surprised Ricki at every turn. The smile that annoyed her in high-school now warmed her heart. At least melted some of the frost off of it. It was too late in the day to invite him over to help her figure this craziness out. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe he could explain how her email got hacked and who was behind the website, the videos, and the sabotage. What came after that was also out of her control.

  Twelve

  Patience wasn’t one of Ricki’s virtues. She had to do something with herself or she was going to explode. With Rumpus fed and walked, a bottle of water in her bag, she set out to pay a visit to the television studio to see Taryn, the producers, or anyone who would talk with her in person because they certainly weren’t doing it through email.

  As she raced out to the garage, she heard Rumpus barking in long bellows inside the house. He never barked when she left. He often did it when someone he didn’t like walked out the door, but never Ricki. Unless someone came to the door just as she was leaving, he had no reason to be acting up like that. Since she was already outside, she saw the reason he was carrying on. Steve’s car was parked out in the street. She raced around to the front of the house and saw him standing on her front porch. What was he doing here and so early in the morning? “Steve?”

  Startled, he jumped. “There you are. I thought you might not have been home.”

  “Just on my way out, actually.” She walked to the front porch and met him on the steps. “What’s up?”

  “Well.” He sighed sharply. “I’m here in an official capacity, and I’m afraid you’re not going to like it.”

  Ricki braced herself for the worst, as if things could get any worse. It had been a week from hell as it was. What else could possibly go wrong?

  “I have a little slip of paper authorized by a judge in my pocket.”

  “A slip of paper?” Ricki felt the blood rush down to her feet. “For what?”

  “I was hoping we could talk a bit. Inside.” He looked over his shoulder at the nosy neighbor, Mrs. Horowitz, walking her cat on a leash. “This is a private matter.”

  Ricki’s knees grew weak as she walked up front steps to unlock the door. “Come on in.” Her mind raced with wild scenarios about getting arrested for Kari’s death. She was certain he had seen the video of her fighting with Kari in the parking lot, especially the part where she had said something about running Kari over if she didn’t move out of the way. The angle at which the video was shot made it look like Ricki had gotten a little too close to Kari when she drove away. None of it looked good for her. Rumpus sniffed Steve’s uniform and growled softly. “Go lay down, boy. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “I’m good, thanks. I wanted to give you a chance to come clean with me before I have to issue this warrant.”

  Ever since Ricki decided she had run out of steam with writing romance novels, her life had taken a turn of many firsts: she solved her first mystery, she
came face-to-face with a murderer, and now she was about to be issued her very first warrant. She had forgotten the luxury of what it was to be a bored writer yearning for adventure. After the week she had, she longed for those days.

  “Come clean with what?”

  “Because of your history with Marty, I assumed you’d want to protect those private moments.”

  Well, there’s a whole website exposing that part of my life, she thought. “I have nothing to hide. We both moved on.”

  Steve folded his arms across his chest and shifted his weight to the other leg. “Are you sure about that?”

  “What are you insinuating? And, for the record, I don’t appreciate the way you’re talking to me. Again.” Whoa, Ricki, where did that come from? If she hadn’t known Steve for years, she never would have spoken to a police officer that way, but there was professional Steve and then there was personal Steve. In this case, she was addressing personal Steve. She just hoped he would take it that way. “You know I would never do anything to obstruct justice. And I hope you know me well enough to know I’m not involved in anything to make you treat me this way.”

  “You’re right. It’s just I have a lot of people breathing down my neck on this one, and I would like to get to the bottom of it as quickly as possible. Your help would be appreciated.”

  “Absolutely. Just tell me what you want. Don’t beat around the bush.”

  “All right.” He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out the warrant and gave it to her. “I have a warrant for your computer.”

  “What, why? I can’t give you my laptop. That’s my livelihood.”

  “We want to check your hard drive for evidence.”

  “Evidence of what?”

  “Emails sent to the victim came from your account.”

  She doubted Steve knew what those emails said, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. The more she learned about them, the more curious she became, and at this point, her curiosity was at a fever pitch. “What’s in those emails, anyway?”

  “Threats, mainly.”

  “Threats to who?”

  “The victim.”

  “But I don’t even know her email address.”

  “Well, that’s one thing we’re going to find out. Look, I’m just doing my job. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see it sitting over on the desk. I can either take it by force or you can just turn it over to me nicely. Your choice.”

  Ricki froze. She understood that Steve was only doing his job. Someone had been murdered. Even if she didn’t do anything wrong, those emails could be her undoing. The sooner she got that part sorted out, the better. “How long are you going to have it? I need it for work.”

  “I don’t know. If you have nothing to hide, we should have it back pretty fast, but if there’s anything on there that has anything to do with Ms. Olson, I would suggest getting a lawyer.”

  Another first: law enforcement telling her to get a lawyer. Her mind kicked into gear. “If it’s any help, I think I might’ve been hacked, at least my email account has.”

  “I’ll be sure to write that up in my report. Anything else?”

  “There’s also something else you should know. Someone seems hell-bent on sabotaging my career, my life.”

  “We know. We saw the videos. We’re already working on that.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  “Now, your laptop.”

  Ricki carefully wrapped her laptop cord into a little bundle and placed it in her computer bag before handing it over to Steve. She had just started another book—usually a precarious time for her when trying to get the story right. All those files were on flash drives, which she wasn’t going to mention to Steve. After looking over the warrant, she didn’t see anything about flash drives or external storage devices or even her phone which she sometimes used to access her email account. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. “I take it you know about the website. If you don’t know about the website by now, you’ll find out soon enough.”

  Steve took the laptop from her. “We know a lot more than you think.”

  “Just one more thing: my agent and publisher are begging me to go into damage control. If you could keep how I spoke with you this morning to yourself, I’d appreciate it. I’m sure Mrs. Horowitz next door is already telling everyone in the quilting bee that a policeman who wasn’t my brother was in my home. Let’s just hope she doesn’t have an internet connection or a social media account.”

  “On a personal note, I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. But, a bit of advice: lay low for a while. Don’t stick out. I know that’s hard seeing how you’re a local celebrity, but try.”

  “I usually do. This is what happens when I go outside.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  His hair raised, Rumpus chased Steve out the door.

  Well, so much for her perfect morning. Running off to the television station was going to have to wait another day. She had something else on her mind.

  She ran back outside to close the garage door as she dialed Damon’s number. And what seemed to be par for the course, Ricki couldn’t get a hold of him either. She was beginning to feel like nobody wanted to talk with her. She left a voicemail, asking him to come over whenever he had a free moment. She made sure to tell him the only reason she wanted him to come over was to talk about her computer being hacked and nothing else. Nothing. Else. Because it was going to be hard to think about his smile and his appreciation for her sense of humor when she had bigger things to worry about. Maybe he could help her make sense of what was going on.

  To her surprise, Damon was at her house within the hour. She tried not to think he was so desperate to see her that he drove right over because ego. Instead, she figured he was in the neighborhood working on a house or something.

  “Thanks for coming over.” She invited him in. “I just made coffee.”

  “That sounds wonderful. It’s cold out there.” Damon took his boots off and tossed his work coat on Ricki’s favorite chair. He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and leaned against the kitchen doorway. “So, what’s going on with this laptop of yours?”

  “Well, let me make it quick. The pol—I mean, my ex said I sent him thirteen emails in the past two months, and I know I didn’t. An email dated yesterday was opened before I even had a chance to read it.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been hacked.”

  “I searched everywhere for those emails Marty talked about, and they’re not anywhere I can see. Cream and sugar?”

  “Black. That’s weird.” He took the cup from her, raising it to his lips, and blew on the hot liquid. “Can I ask what your password is, which I hope you changed by now?”

  “It was Rumpus.”

  “Rumpus? It’s no wonder you got hacked. Anyone who knows anything about your life could figure your dog’s name was your password.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t need lectured; I just need help with fixing the problem.”

  He placed the cup on the table. “Let me see your laptop.”

  Ricki stared blankly at him. “Oh, well, I don’t…the police have it.”

  Damon’s mouth dropped open the same time his eyebrows raised. “Ah-ha. Care to explain?”

  After Damon swore up and down he wouldn’t tell a soul that her laptop had been confiscated by law enforcement, she filled him in on all the details of that morning. Funny how it sounded even more embarrassing when explaining it to someone else. Watching Damon’s facial expressions go from horror to amusement to condescension made Ricki think it was better not to tell anyone in her family what had happened. She made Damon swear he wouldn’t say anything to her brother.

  “So, now what do I do?”

  Damon scratched his chin. “It depends. If someone did hack your email and not your computer, you should be okay. If someone hacked into your account and sent emails from another computer, erasing them before you even saw them, then there’ll be a trace of the message on their computer, not yours.�
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  This was a relief to Ricki. “That’s good, then. I won’t worry about it.” The relief didn’t last long before her brain started imagining the worst. “But what if that’s not the case. I mean, I don’t have anything incriminating on my computer. Let’s say it was more than just my email that was hacked. What then?”

  “That’s a little more difficult. For someone to gain access to your computer from somewhere else, they would need the software to do it, the name of your computer, and your network information, and get past your firewall. It’s complicated.”

  “Okay. Say they did have all that stuff what you just said.”

  “If they had remote access, they could do all sorts of awful things, and there would be traces of all that activity on your hard drive not to mention your log files that only IT gurus can make sense of.”

  “What does that mean for me?”

  “Depends. If there’s a trace of anything on your laptop, their team of people will find it. They’ll work backwards and connect the dots, that sort of thing.”

  None of this made much sense to Ricki. She only wanted to know with certainty if she was in trouble. “What if they find something I don’t even know about? I mean, is that possible?”

  “It’s a slim chance, but it can happen. If they do, you better get yourself a good lawyer.”

  Ricki’s mouth formed an O.

  Thirteen

  The talk with Damon shook Ricki to the core. Even if she knew she didn’t do anything wrong, the videos, the website leaking her personal communications, and the email hacking had her feeling out of control. It felt as if someone had stolen her life and was running away with it as she frantically chased after the thief, one second and one step behind. She had to put a stop to this before things got even worse. She had heard horror stories of people getting doxxed, their families stalked, the personal lives turned upside down. Where Ricki lived wasn’t much of a secret, and she had been lucky so far. For the most part, everyone left her alone. A cyber-stalker was the worst she had to deal with, but that ended a few years ago. But this, this was on another level. At least she knew who the cyber-stalker was.