Page 12 of Hacking His Code
“Going back to the personal trainer, I actually think we looked into the wrong one. The one they were investigating, Lorenzo Sanchez, had holes in his established timeline that couldn’t be filled, and that’s the qualifier they’ve used for the last twenty years to label him a suspect. The trainer she had before Lorenzo, however, left after a messy situation involving money laundering. There was also talk of him hooking up with my aunt, but as you said, casual sex is nothing.”
“God, what was it with her and personal trainers?”
“Working out causes all kinds of pheromones.”
“I guess. So, what was found on the other trainer?”
“Not much. His name was Clint Easton, and he was in Australia at the time of Lucy’s disappearance, removing him as a suspect. The thing is, he could have hired an accomplice.”
“Where is he now?”
“About four years ago, he dropped off the radar. No one’s seen or heard from him.”
“And you think I can find him?”
“It will be your first assignment, actually.” He pulls a slim, black laptop from a messenger bag. “Find Clint Easton.”
It takes me a full minute to realize he’s serious.
“Where are the files?” I say, looking around. “And I’d like to work alone.”
“You’ll be given no files for this one, and I’m rather comfortable where I’m seated.”
Fuck, it’s a test.
With a trembling hand, I accept the laptop, opening it to a secured mainframe.
“Clint Easton, you say?”
“That’s his name.”
I do a quick search of several databases to find roughly seventy-eight people that share the name.
“Do you know where he was born?”
Hunter leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
This is all you. Let’s show him what you got.
I take a deep breath and begin gathering information to narrow the search. Based on the fact that he was employed by Lucy twenty-four years ago, I deduce that he must be at least forty-two, living in the United States at the time of his employment with Lucy, eventually moving to Australia.
The search isn’t so simple, though, and I find that I cannot find a single Clint Easton that fits those qualifiers.
If you stop now, you’ll fail the test. You may not get another shot.
I rack my brain, thinking of what to do next.
Well, if he wants a hacker, hack.
I look up the police department that was on scene for the initial call and find out their records were converted to digital in 2005—a small win.
I go to the department website’s login page and prepare for a ‘brute force attack’ to gain access to the system.
As it turns out, local police departments don’t always use strong security measures, and it only takes me twenty minutes to gain access. From there, I have to find the file by way of date since Hunter refuses to provide me with any information.
After locating the file, I scan the documents, taking in every heart-wrenching detail until I find the one that matters most.
“You lied to me. His name wasn’t Clint Easton. It was Elton Hartwick.”
