Page 69 of Live a Little!

She clicked on the pension file titledService Recordand a prickle skipped down her spine. The file was password protected. She thought she’d opened all the files, but she must have missed this one. It was the first she’d come across that required a password. It was a sizable file, too. She’d assumed it held nothing more interesting than vital stats on the company’s retired employees. But perhaps the title was justcamouflage.

Was this the hidden stash ofsecrets?

Or was the file password-protected simply because it contained sensitive information? But she had lots of sensitive information on her computer, none of which was elaborately secured. Why add an extra layer of security to just onefile?

“Take some flowers.” Agnes entered her office and broke into Cynthia’s reverie. “I need to make some room on mydesk.”

Cyn chuckled, accepting the vase of yellow roses. She buried her nose in the butter-colored blooms. “Mmm. They smellwonderful.”

“That foolish man. This must have cost him a small fortune.” Agnes tut-tutted, but she couldn’t keep the delighted grin off herface.

“And you are worth every petal,” Cynthia reminded her sternly. “Don’t forget it.” She placed the roses on her desk and then said, “Um, Agnes, I’m trying to get some information on a retired employee, but my file seems to be corrupted. You have a duplicate set, don’tyou?”

“Yes. On my computer. ShallI—”

“That’s all right. I’ll come and have alook.”

“Who is it?” Agnes asked as she pulled up the pensionfiles.

“His name is DominicTorreo.”

Agnes shook her head. “I don’t recognize the name, but Neville bought out a company a few years ago and, good-hearted man that he is, provided full pensions for all theirretirees.”

Good-hearted wasn’t the epithet that was springing to Cynthia’s mind at the moment. Still, she wouldn’t jump to conclusions. “That’s the one.” Cynthia pointed toService Record.“I think it’s possible Mr. Torreo’s being overcompensated. I want to check his record. Don’t mention anything to George or Neville, will you? I wouldn’t want to make trouble for anyone until I’m certain of myfacts.”

“Of course not. I’m just glad you’re so diligent. In my opinion you’re a much better accountant than yourpredecessor.”

“Thanks.” Cyn printed off the entire file, noting as she did so that it was much smaller than the file with the same name on her own computer. And it wasn’t password-protected.

Back in her office, she read through the file. Dominic Torreo was listed as sixty-seven years old. His pension checks were deposited directly into a bank account here in Seattle. Scanning through the files, Cynthia was amazed at the number of pensioners who also had their monthly checks deposited automatically to accounts in the same bank. Delighted with her own cleverness, she spun in her chair. Things were looking up in the spybusiness.

Until she tried getting into Harrison’s secret file. Then her espionage skills began to seem as feeble as ever. But she was determined to crack the code,today.

She’d evaded Jake this morning, leaving super early with some vague idea of taking one final inspection of Oceanic, as though there was some vital clue she’d overlooked. She had, too. She’d overlooked the secrets in the pension files. Now at least she had something to give Jake—evidence that might just help track down the drug network that had been responsible for his friend’sdeath.

If she could crack Harrison’s password and unearth the second set of books, she’d know she’d struck her own blow against the illegal drugtrade.

If it did nothing else for her, trying to crack Harrison’s password took her mind off the utter wreck that was her love life. After grabbing a gigantic cup of coffee, Cyn sat at her desk, pulled the keyboard toward her and got to work. All her skills and training came into play as she attempted to outsmart another accountant. It was like being inside a giant sneaky, snaky maze. Dead end after dead end slapped her in the face as she tried to find the entrance to Harrison’s secretfile.

Of course, the file might turn out to be nothing more interesting than a backup of his home accounts. That was the sort of prudent thing any accountant might do, and it would be perfectly understandable that Harrison would hide the files. But somehow, she didn’t think this file wasinnocent.

She pulled out a notebook and recorded every password combination she tried. She pulled up old payroll records and gleaned his birth date, middle name, address and phone number. Nothing. She let her mind drift. If she were Harrison, what would shedo?

She stared at the colorful blooms on her desk, a faint replica of Agnes’s smile on her own lips. Whatever happened, she knew she’d carry away the knowledge that she’d helped two people find love. It wasn’t the job she’d been sent to Oceanic to do, but at least it was somethinggood.

She sighed, and went back to code cracking. The FBI must have programs that could work on breaking codes. She could simply turn the whole problem over tothem.

She glanced at her watch. It was four o’clock. She’d give herself an hour more to work on it, then she’d report her findings to Jake and her mission would be—not accomplished, but over. Oh, but if she could crack the codeherself!

Once the investigation was complete, no doubt Jake would move out of Mrs. Jorgensen’s house and back to wherever he camefrom.

If he didn’t move, she would. His accusations on Saturday night, his belief that she was “easy with her favors” as her mother might have put it—well, if he believed that was possible, he couldn’t love her as she loved him. And the new Cyn the Bold wouldn’t accept less than complete love and trust. Somewhere was a man who would love her as she deserved to beloved.

Who knew where she might find him? Once she’d finished up here, she’d follow Harrison’s example and hop a plane somewhere exotic for a well-earned vacation. She was absolutely not going to hang around Seattlemoping.

She had herpride.

It was pride that made her redouble her efforts to crack Harrison’s code before the end of theday.

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