Page 48 of The Night We Lost Him

His laptop and his phone—the only two pieces of hardware that may be able to shed any light here—are the only two things missing from his seemingly completely intact office. That can’t be a coincidence. It can’t be a coincidence that anything of value (anything he deemed the most private) was nowhere to be found.

“Shouldn’t they be backed up in the cloud somewhere?” I ask.

“They should be, yes,” Nate says. “If you can go back in time and tell your father to authorize saving anything that way. Alternative storage opportunities were disengaged at his personal request.”

“So you’re saying his phone wasn’t backed up anywhere?” Sam asks.

“I can’t say that it’s not backed up anywhere. But in terms of company storage, that is correct. For his phone and his laptop, he asked that all external storage and file sharing to the company network be suspended.”

That seems intentional. It must be intentional, his wanting to keep certain things just for himself. Which is when I shift back to it: Sam on the plane with his company laptop, talking about the things he could and couldn’t find on it. And I start to wonder if maybe it can be found a different way.

“Just for his own laptop?” I ask.

Nate meets my eyes. “What’s that?”

“Was file sharing turned off just for his own personal computer or any other computer in the network?”

“It seems that laptops five through ten are all connected to the network. That includes Tommy’s and yours, Sam.” He looks up and nods in Sam’s direction. Then he continues searching. “But, yes, actually, that’s correct, it was not just your father’s laptop where storage backup and file sharing were disabled from the company network.”

“Who else’s?” I ask.

“Okay… it was turned off for laptop issues one, two, three, and four,” he says. “Laptop one was issued to your father. Two to Joe, three belonged to the general counsel, and four belonged to…”

I get there at the same time Sam does.

“Grace,” Sam says.

I turn to Sam. “What if those computers were connected to each other? They could have access to his files.”

Sam motions toward Nate. “Is Grace’s laptop still in the company’s possession?”

“No. Her laptop was delivered to her apartment along with all her personal belongings—”

“But that’s not really characterized as personal, is it?” Sam says. “That’s company property.”

“Well, apparently your father wasn’t particularly interested in making that distinction,” he says. “But Terry would be more helpful on the specifics.”

Sam turns back to me. “Terry was Grace’s personal assistant. She retired after Grace passed away.”

Nate taps on his device. “Says here Terry’s in Burlington, Vermont. No email address, but I got a phone number and a physical address.”

Sam stands up. “Would you text me her contact info? Thanks. Number and address.”

I look up at him. “Please tell me we aren’t going to Vermont.”

“Depends on if she picks up,” he says.

Sam starts walking to the door. Nate and I watch him go, and he looks back over at me.

“He’s joking, right?” Nate asks.

My own phone buzzes, and I look down to see a text message from Elliot.

You okay?

I haven’t called him back. Not Elliot, not Jack either, for that matter. I shoot Elliot a quick text that I’ll call him a little later. But I owe Jack more than that kind of message. Jack, who I haven’t spoken to except briefly in the car on the way to Santa Ynez. Twenty-four hours ago. A lifetime ago.

I sigh, stand up too. “I’m going with maybe,” I say.

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