SILICON VALLEY TANGOThree minutes after joining her sister’s workout, FBI Special Agent Dawna Shepherd brought up the stalker. From her treadmill, she shouted to Bettijean, who was working hard on the adjacent elliptical. “Mom’s upset. Says you told her somebody’s tracking your every move.”
“Figured it was Mom, made you rush up here.” Bettijean brushed damp hair off her forehead. “She overreacted. Nobody’s peeping in my windows.”
Dawna eyed her panting sister. “She said, ‘Bettcha sounds like she needs help.’” Mom had used the family nickname for her youngest daughter, softening Dawna up for the command that came next. “Told me to give you a hand, since I had time off in your neighborhood.”
Bettijean snorted. “Somebody’s hacking into my computer system. Not your specialty. We finish here
