Page 102 of Good Girls Lie
“What would they have to tell me?”
“I think they know who Camille was seeing.”
The dean’s demeanor changes. Her face shutters, that pained, scared look reappears in her eyes. “Oh. Oh. Thank you for telling me, Ash. I did speak with them, and they assured me they don’t know.”
Figures they were lying.
“Now, I have a little favor to ask. I received an email from a stranger, and I’d like to know if you can tell me where it came from.”
“Dr. Medea—”
She hands me a piece of paper, a full header from the email that she’s printed out. “I’d like to keep this between us girls, if that’s all right with you.”
There’s no subject. I can tell there were attachments, several of them, HEIF, the file type Apple uses. The images came from an iPhone.
I look closer, tracing the head. It’s come from a throwaway account, totally anonymous. But the IP address, it’s generated from Canada. Odd. The last time I set up my VPN, I hooked into a Canadian server farm.
Whoosh.
Oh, bloody hell. Was this email the one that was in my draft folder when I opened my program? The phantom Send?
I go back to the beginning of the head. Memorize the thread of numbers. My email should be untraceable.
I think.
I’ve backstopped everything, but I hadn’t planned to send any anonymous emails to the dean of my fucking school.
And why has she come to me instead of Dr. Medea? What sort of trap is she laying? Is she handing me the tools of my own destruction? A way to get out of everything?
I can’t see the details, but I can’t help but wonder who is sending the dean images. And of what? I take a stab in the dark.
“What are the photographs of?” I ask.
Her face drains of color. Bingo. “You can see there are photos?”
“Yes, Dean. At least six attachments, all HEIF.” At her blank look, I continue, “High Efficiency Image Files. Helps with compression and... Hey, are you okay?”
Her hand flutters to her throat. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Only...someone is playing a cruel joke, I’m afraid.”
“There seems to be a lot of that going around.”
“You can’t decipher who sent it?”
“I’m afraid I can’t. It’s from an anonymous, throwaway account. It’s probably already been deleted. It’s an easy thing to do.”
“Can you tell if it was sent from inside the school?”
Careful...
“That’s trickier. Origins can be traced if given enough resources, but off the top of things, I’d say chances are it comes from outside. If it was inside the school, the intranet signature would be here, on this line.” I point to the spot. “It’s missing those designators. As a matter of fact...” I make a point of reading it again. “I believe this was sent from a mobile device, not a computer.”
She blows out a breath, and I do, as well. She’s not trying to trick me. Seems we both have something to hide here.
I don’t have a phone. I’m safe.
“I appreciate your help, Ash. Yes, someone sent me some photos, of one of our students, and I want to be sure we handle this carefully. It would be good if you didn’t mention this to anyone.”
“Will you show this to the sheriff?”
