Lonely Castle

Friday

Rick

It had been a long week for Melly: server installations, security audits and men who believed repeating themselves more loudly made them easier to understand.

Her feet hurt, her head throbbed, and the four-inch heels she had chosen that morning felt more like a personal betrayal.

Locking her company laptop inside the Faraday drawer beneath her desk. She then placed the phone she used for Tsong Group business in the signal-blocking wall safe beside three others, each powered down and sealed inside its own signal-blocking pouch.

Exchanging it for the nondiscript smartphone she carried after hours, checking the corridor twice, she locked her office and headed for the lift.

By the time the lift reached the ground floor, Melly had already switched off one life and slipped into another.

*

Rick sat in the lobby with one ankle resting across his knee, reading a proposal on his laptop. He looked irritatingly composed for a man who had been waiting nearly ten minutes.

He'd not noticed when Laura Monkhouse had arrived. She stood close enough to him that he had to resist the urge to swat her away.

Yet he remained committed to the document.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Laura asked.

Rick glanced up. "Laura."

Her smile widened. "You remember me."

"Unfortunately, I have a long memory," he said, void of emotion.

She laughed as though he had complimented her. "Were you here for the executive meeting?" Laura asked.

"No."

"Visiting someone?"

"Waiting for someone."

"A date?"

Rick looked pointedly towards the lifts. "That was the idea."

Laura followed his gaze but didn't seem discouraged. "I work here now. I'm one of the new archivists."

"I don't recall asking." He sighed.

"Perhaps we could get a drink sometime," she asked, hopeful.

"No. Thank you." The answer was so calm that Laura blinked.

She recovered quickly. "You don't have to decide now."

"Too late."

Smiling, Laura rested her fingers on Rick's arm. "We had fun at the firefighters' fundraiser."

Rick stared at the hand touching his jacket. "That's one way of describing it."

The memory flooded Melly's mind without permission: Laura pinned between Dru and Rick in the cloakroom.

Melly cleared her throat.

Rick looked over Laura's shoulder. His relief was evident. "Six minutes," he said.

Melly stopped in front of him. "You timed me?"

"Sorry, I was on with our new manufacturer in China. My Mandarin is rusty. He spent forty minutes correcting me."

Rick closed his laptop and slipped it into his leather case. "Shall we?"

Laura turned, and her smile tightened.

Melly was dressed entirely in black: wide-legged trousers cinched high around her waist, a fitted T-shirt and a soft leather coat that fell almost to her knees. Laura's gaze travelled over her before returning to Rick.

"You remember Laura," he said.

Melly nodded. Her silence spoke volumes.

"I was inviting Rick for a drink," smiling, she went to reach for Rick's arm.

Instead, Melly stepped beside him, slipping her hand into his. "I'm afraid we have plans."

His fingers closed around hers at once. Laura's attention dropped to their joined hands. "Of course. Perhaps another time."

"Perhaps not," Rick said.

Laura stared for a beat before walking away, with what little dignity she had.

Melly waited until she disappeared before laughing. Rick released a slow breath. "You're late."

"You're welcome."

"She doesn't understand the word no."

"She understood it perfectly. She just assumed you were flirting."

Rick stood and brushed his sleeve where Laura had touched him. Melly laughed harder.

"She is not going to give up," she warned as they crossed the lobby.

"I may have to change my identity."

"I can arrange that."

"I know. That's what concerns me." He said as they walked towards the underground car park.

Melly's new BMW waited near the private lift, its midnight-blue paintwork gleaming beneath the fluorescent lights. Rick stopped beside it and ran his hand reverently along the roof.

"I'm considering leaving you for the car."

"It'd be a healthier relationship."

He held out his hand for the keys. "Are you sure you want me to drive?"

Melly pointed down at her shoes. Rick opened the passenger door. "A compelling argument."

Placing their bags in the rear, he waited until she'd settled, then walked around to the driver's side. The interior quietly came alive.

"This is excessive," he said, adjusting the seat.

"You sound jealous."

"I drive an Aston Martin."

He pulled out of the garage. "Was this another gift from Pelican?"

The lightness left her expression. "Something like that."

Rick glanced at her, but she'd turned towards the window. "One day," he said carefully, "you're going to tell me what happened. Confidential or not."

Melly watched the city slide past the glass. "No."

"You don't know what I was going to ask." He tightened his hands around the steering wheel. "You came back different."

After several silent streets, she said, "Spousal privilege wouldn't work."

Rick's mouth twitched. "You're not my spouse."

"I was quoting the argument you were about to make."

"I still could." He hesitated. "We could be us again."

Melly stared ahead. "What would Laura say? She's waited years to tap that arse… again."

Rick sighed audibly. "She'd be devastated."

"I'm sure you could console her."

Rick turned into his driveway and parked. "So…"

She stared at him, her hand on the door.

"If Dru an' I moved on."

Melly sighed. "You already did."

He came around to open her door and collected both bags from the back seat. "You used to be jealous."

"I used to be an angry teen."

"You were terrifying."

At the front door, Rick stopped her before she could step inside.

"Would it bother you?"

Melly's gaze met his. All signs of ease and humour gone. "We lost the right to ask each other those questions eleven years ago." She slipped inside before he could answer.

The smell of rosemary, garlic and roast lamb filled the house.

Dru stood in the kitchen wearing a charcoal suit with the jacket discarded and a dark apron tied around his waist; his sleeves were rolled to his elbows as he spooned potatoes onto three plates.

Melly's shoulders relaxed almost instantly.

Rick noticed.

She crossed the kitchen and rested a hand against Dru's back before kissing his cheek.

"You didn't have to cook."

Dru looked at her aching feet, then at Rick carrying both bags.

"Yes, I did."

*

Melly

Garrett Mercer stood just as she approached the restaurant table.

"Melly?"

"Garrett?"

He smiled broadly and opened his arms before she could stop him. His embrace lasted a fraction too long.

"Layla wasn't exaggerating."

"She seldom does," she said, slipping out of his hold. She took the seat opposite him.

Garrett was attractive in a manufactured way. His dark hair had been shaped to appear carelessly tousled. His shirt was expensive but deliberately open at the collar, and the watch on his wrist cost more than the car he had claimed to drive on his dating profile.

Melly placed her phone face down near her glass. "Is there something on my face?"

"Sorry." He gave her a practised grin. "I was trying to work out how a woman like you ended up in cybersecurity."

Melly grimaced. And his smile faded.

A waiter appeared, saving him from further embarrassment. Melly ordered tequila with cherry cola. Garrett selected a whisky he pronounced with more care than necessary.

"How do you know Layla?" Melly asked.

"We met when my company upgraded the servers at her offices."

There it was.

Garrett's right hand shifted towards the phone beside his plate. He tapped the screen twice and set it down again.

Beneath the table, Melly's mobile vibrated once—connection request detected. She smiled at him. "And you know Dru too?"

"Same gym."

"Do you train together?"

"Sometimes."

A lie. Dru had never met him.

The drinks arrived. Garrett launched into a story about expanding his company while Melly unlocked her phone beneath the table with her thumb.

The harmless-looking weather application on the screen revealed a network map instead of a forecast.

He’d created a temporary connection to her phone and was attempting to probe it through the restaurant's wireless network.

Sloppy.

Melly accepted the connection, granting him access to a deliberately exposed folder containing fabricated client documents. While Garrett believed he was exploring her device, her software travelled back through the opening he'd created.

"Most women find technology boring."

"Do they?"

"Once I start talking about servers, their eyes tend to glaze over."

"That must be why."

Garrett laughed, missing the insult.

A line appeared across her screen. ACCESS CONFIRMED.

His phone contained copied source code from Layla's company, employee passwords and fragments of correspondence linking him to two subcontractors. There were also tools far beyond the legitimate needs of his business.

Melly initiated the upload. Then slowly drained her glass until 'package installed' flashed across her screen.

Locking her phone, she placed it face down on the table.

Garrett's device chimed. He glanced down, but the screen only showed a promotional notification from an application he rarely used.

He had no clue she now possessed a silent doorway into every machine connected to his company network.

Melly stood.

Confusion replaced his confidence. "Did I say something?"

"Several things." She lifted her coat from the chair.

Garrett reached for his phone, as if expecting an explanation to appear there. "I thought this was going well."

Melly smiled. "No." She walked out before he could follow.

Outside, she crossed the road and called Layla.

"Well?" Layla answered.

"He took the bait."

"You got him?"

"He's worse than you said. Sloppy, arrogant and stealing enough of your work to build a convincing imitation of your model."

"I knew it."

"David's expecting your call. Don't confront Garrett yet."

"Why...?"

"I need time inside his network."

Layla went silent. "Melly, I..."

I cut her off. "Friday. Drinks at mine. Half five. oh bring your brother."

She ended the call.

*

Further along the road a white Mercedes waited. Opening the passenger side door Melly slid into the seat.

Zara tightly gripped the steering wheel with both hands. A flash drive rested in the centre console between them.

"Why a car?" Melly asked.

"Cameras in the café. Cameras in the hotel. Cameras everywhere."

"You've become observant."

"I've become paranoid."

Melly studied Zara. She'd completed every task asked of her.

Fear had hollowed her face.

Zara picked up the flash drive. "This is the last of it."

Melly accepted it.

"One of the twins gave it to me," Zara said. "He asked me to connect it to Mr Hargreaves's computer while I printed a file. He said the documents were already on the drive."

"Were they both there?"

Zara shook her head. "No. Just one."

"Did anyone else see you use it?"

"No."

Melly slowly turned the drive between her fingers. So they'd finally established a persistent foothold.

Melly reached into her bag and removed a second flash drive, placing it gently into Zara's trembling hand.

"This is Everything that connects us. Payment records, messages, access logs—everything that could identify you. It's encrypted."

Zara stared at it.

"The account containing your final payment will unlock tomorrow," Melly said. "After that, disappear for a while. Take your brother somewhere warm. Somewhere neither James nor Sung has influence."

Tears welled in Zara's eyes. "You won't contact me again?"

"No."

A sob escaped before she could stop it.

Melly looked out through the windscreen, giving her the privacy to cry.

After a long moment, Zara whispered, "Thank you."

Nodding, Melly opened the car door and walked towards the corner without looking back.

Rick

Rick watched Melly climb out of the white Mercedes from half a street away.

He had left Dru's to collect a contract from his office and had been debating whether to call her when she appeared across the road. She did not see him. Her attention remained fixed on the flash drive she slipped into her coat pocket.

The Mercedes did not move after she left.

Rick crossed behind it and glanced through the driver's window. The woman inside was crying.

He recognised her immediately.

"Miss Lonsdale?"

Zara startled and wiped at her face. "Mr James."

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

Her hands shook against the steering wheel.

"You're clearly not." He took out his phone. "I can have my father's office send a driver."

"No." She caught his wrist through the open window. "Please."

Rick lowered the phone.

"Who was that woman?"

Zara's tears began to fall again. Opening the passenger door, Rick sat beside her, then offered her a packet of tissues from his pocket.

When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.

"Miss Andrews. From Baker Group."

Rick had never heard of either.

Twenty minutes later, Zara filled him in on the year-long arrangement. Miss Andrews had paid her to supply old and current travel schedules, private aliases, shareholder records and files connected to the James Group's subsidiary companies.

"And that was all?" Rick asked.

Zara twisted the tissue between her fingers. "She also wanted information on Sung Group."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Some of it was public, but she insisted on copies from our internal servers."

Rick looked through the windscreen towards the corner where Melly had disappeared.

Rick now possessed several pieces of the puzzle. His problem was that none of them appeared to belong to the same picture.