Page 45 of Wired Strong

Leede held up her identification, as did Raveaux. “At the request of your headmaster, we are investigating a matter of a confidential information breach. We need to check these computers for unauthorized activity.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “I will have to verify that with our head of security.”

“Please do,” Leede said. She had changed her outfit before coming to the school campus, putting on one of those bright little suits and pinning up her white hair. The youth he associated with her had effectively vanished.

She had such a useful ability to project a different persona. Raveaux could see its utility, too, as the lab monitor scurried behind her desk to make some calls.

Raveaux advanced to the central computer station and sat down. Of the two of them, he had just enough background in forensic computer recovery to look at the recent search history log-ins, even if they had been deleted. Sophie might have been a better choice for this task, but she was hip-deep in computers already.

The unit at the central station was password protected. He and Leede waited patiently as the woman verified their identities and mission. “Our head of security has given me the go ahead to cooperate with your investigation. Here are the log-in codes to the computers.” She paused, frowning. “Is this about porn?”

Leede waved a hand reassuringly. “That’s probably what you deal with most with these students, but this is a different matter. Administrative in nature.”

The woman looked doubtful but returned to her desk.

Leede handed Raveaux one of the slips of paper. “You take this half of the units, and I’ll take that. Let’s meet at the entrance when we’re done. Pull out and save anything that looks like it could have been used by, or left a trace of, our embezzler.”

“Mais oui, madame.”

Leede smiled. “I like a man who knows how to say yes.”

* * *

They metat the front entrance after working their way through the different computers in the lab. As they walked back out to Leede’s gigantic Cadillac, Raveaux held up a flash drive. “I was able to identify a computer the embezzler is using. My guess is that our perpetrator is working out of the student computer lab in order to add an additional layer of confusion and security to whatever VPN he or she is using.”

“Good. I didn’t find anything. Now we have a lead to give to the school’s security team. After we get the air conditioning on in the car, I’ll use my phone for a few minutes to pass this intel along to them.”

Leede had parked the car in the overhanging shade of a monkeypod tree, but the day was warm. High cirrus clouds hardly cut the bright sunshine beaming down on the parking lot surrounded by decorative palms. Leede got in, settled herself, and turned the car on. She engaged the air conditioner, which gushed hot air over the scorching leather seats as Raveaux settled into the passenger side. After a few moments, the interior began to cool.

Raveaux removed his paperback, reclining his seatback, as Leede called the president of the board and gave him a quick report of progress on the case so far. She advised him to put a hidden security camera into the student lounge as soon as possible and to watch for anyone using their target computer. “That will give us a concrete way to trap the hacker.”

Raveaux ignored their back-and-forth, tuning it out.

Sometimes Raveaux longed for the footloose, attachment-free life Jack Reacher lived—nothing in his pockets but his hands and a toothbrush. What freedom.

But he was almost there now, with his few belongings and his rented apartment. He could still get everything he owned into two suitcases, just as he’d done when he arrived in Hawaii. Was it time for a change? He stared at the print on the page, considering.

He didn’t have to know right now. The right direction would reveal itself.

Leede ended the call and glanced at Raveaux. “The president seemed . . . troubled that we had made such rapid progress.”

“Perhaps he’s involved, or he was in denial that the embezzler was even a real threat,” Raveaux said. “Either could be true.”

“We’re done early for the day. Want to take that trip to the Bishop now? The building’s probably air-conditioned.”

Raveaux closed his book. “Sounds like a great way to spend the afternoon.”

Leede’s smile made her almost beautiful. “Mais oui, monsieur.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Marcella

Marcella had just settledinto the chair on her back deck, her feet up on the footstool, evening glass of Chardonnay in hand, when her phone rang. She glanced down at it in irritation, but her eyebrows lifted as she saw the name:Pierre Raveaux.

“Aloha, Monsieur Raveaux! To what do I owe the surprise of this phone call?”

“I’m sorry to bother you at home, Agent Scott—or, if I may, Marcella. Sophie talks of you so often that I feel like I know you.” Raveaux’s voice was dark chocolate: something to be savored and enjoyed.

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