Page 26 of Enticing the Fixer

“I’m fine. Thank you.” The welcome committee is one thing. The accidentally rubbing and grinding all over me committee is another thing. I’ll stay back here. Thank you very much.

“Go ahead and take a seat.” Her bottom lip pokes out as her eyes narrow into tiny slits until I can’t see the color of her eyes anymore.

I straighten my back and arch my eyebrows. I’ve got all day.

“Oh, okay.” She jumps back and marches in front of my desk, careful not to brush against me. “I was only trying to be helpful.”

“I appreciate your assistance, but I’ve operated a computer before, and I’m familiar with accounting and other software systems. When I was hired, we went over them.” I pat my locked briefcase. The one I left when I went with Arlene on the tour.

Thankfully, there’s nothing inside except a blank notebook because I wouldn’t put it past Carla to snoop. To find my home address so she can stalk me. But I’ve memorized all the credentials to get onto the different systems. It’s the best way to ensure people don’t hack into your programs.

“I see.” She clasps her hands together in front of her. “Well, if you don’t need me, I’ll return to my office.” Her eyes swirl with a mixture of irritation and disappointment.

“Thank you.” I glance down at the briefcase. It’s a half-inch farther to the left than when I left it. “Was someone in here while I was gone?”

“Yes.” She beams. “No one had been in this office for several weeks, so I dusted the computer and desk. The dust was thick enough that you could write your name in it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I clasp the back of the chair, keeping it and the desk between us. For some reason, it feels safer this way.

She licks her lips, leaving the red lipstick shining under the office lights. Which is saying something since the bulbs castes a yellow, greenish glow on everything.

“If you need anything.” Her voice is husky as she points over her shoulder and bites her bottom lip. “I’m right over there. And it’s just you and me.” She pauses for effect. “All day.”

“I’ll remember that.” I don’t make a move until she slinks out of the room.

I pull out the chair and sink into the seat. The cushion whooshes under my weight. Nothing like getting paired up with the stalker from hell. There should be some horror music playing in the background.

Moments later, I’m in the system flying through the programs, searching for–anything. I appreciate Truman’s desire for fresh eyes, but it makes it harder to identify which program to infiltrate first. Or if there’s even anything out there to worry about.

Three minutes later, I’m staring at the fallout from a client data breach. Someone has hacked into the system and stolen thousands of clients’ personal information.

How did they get in? Why? Does Kinsley know? Who else knows? What are they doing with the information? Do they want a ransom? A work stoppage? Lower stock prices? Just a kid playing around who wants nothing but to prove to his friends that he can break into a Fortune 500 company?

The potential culprits and their end games are countless.

However, I’ve met Kinsley, and she’s not the type to invite a trojan horse to steal her stuff. Why would she? She has access to everything as it is. Whoever Truman’s client is, he must feel the same way. I shake my head. And he was right on target. Something is going on, and the cost could be lethal to the company’s bottom-line if it isn’t stopped.

I scan the system, searching for points of entry. There could be a keylogger on any computer in the building. At least any computer with access to client records. That would spell an intentional threat. Many employees have been tempted by large sums of money to provide data to foreign hackers.

Or someone could have unintentionally clicked on a virus and infected the system. Or an employee could have used their credentials to steal information under their own sign-on. An incompetent person. No one with half a brain would use their own authorization codes to scrape client’s data. Would they?

Three minutes later, I found the virus that grabbed the clients’ personal information and disabled it. Well, that was easy enough. It doesn’t stop what’s already been stolen from being in the wrong hands, but it does eliminate any future records from being pilfered. Kinsley needs a better IT department.

I flip from screen to screen, studying the layout of the firewall. It’s not the worst system I’ve seen. I lean back and tap my fingertips on the hard surface. So how did they get in?

It could take several days to scan the system to find the email that was opened if the virus came from an outside source. But it’s the quickest way to determine if it’s an inside or outside job.

I type in the program information and hit enter. This should identify the guilty email, from there, I can track the IP address of where the sender originated from. It’s likely an overseas perpetrator that will be impossible to pin down, but it’s worth the minimal effort it’ll take to clear Kinsley’s employees from any wrongdoing.

Almost every business computer breach is started by someone with blinders on. Either they’re lazy and click on a link that lets the bad guys in, or they’re too greedy and start chasing that too-good-to-be-true website with the buy one, get three free. Or someone falls for one of those IRS scams to eliminate their back taxes.

Once I find out where the virus came from, I’ll report the findings, and my job will be done. This might be the quickest day of work I’ve ever accomplished.

Well, now what?Carla sits at her desk with her chin propped in her hand as she stares.

When she catches me watching her, her face goes red to match her lipstick, and she shifts in her seat and clicks on her mouse.

What now? Besides avoiding Carla. Work? Well, while I’m here, I might as well work.

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