Twenty-Six
I’M WALKING DOWN THE hall to Helen’s office at the police station the next day, carrying a bag from The Bistro containing our lunch—broccoli cheddar soup for her, tomato bisque for me, complete with crusty baguettes and bottles of soda. We weren’t able to meet for our evening drive out of town last night because she was still busy at Chad’s bungalow.
As I get closer, I hear Gladys’ excited voice. “Chief, it’s just impossible! It doesn’t just happen!”
“OK, so what are you saying?” Helen asks.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but Chad’s entire cyber footprint at the college is gone! It’s like he never worked there!”
I knock on the open door. “Hey,” I say, “did I come at a bad time?”
“Gladys, Tom used to work there,” Helen says, “maybe he has an answer.”
“You actually th
