CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Kate ducked her head against the biting wind that was blowing straight out of the north as she and Ian walked to Dunn Brothers for breakfast one Saturday morning at the end of February. The smell of dark roast coffee beans and the sound of light jazz greeted them when they walked through the door.
“I’ve had about enough of the cold,” Ian said, letting go of Kate’s hand and stomping the snow from his boots.
Kate removed her hat. “Thank you for being willing to endure it anyway.”
“There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you,” he said, dropping a kiss on her forehead.
Once they had their coffee and breakfast sandwiches, they sat down at a small table in the corner.
“I have to go back to my place after breakfast,” Ian said. “There are some things I can’t take care of from my laptop.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Come with me.”
Usually whenever Ian needed to work at his apartment during the weekend, Kate occupied herself with a number of different activities: she called a friend to go shopping or to meet for lunch and a movie. She went to Pilates or ran errands or cleaned her apartment. But lately he seemed to want her near him all the time. And since there was no one else she wanted to spend her time with as much as she wanted to spend it with him, she smiled and said, “Sure.”
When they arrived at Ian’s, Kate made herself comfortable on his couch. She’d brought her laptop and busied herself sending e-mails and working on a few things for the food pantry. Ian settled in at his desk, and soon his fingers were furiously tapping the keyboard.
An hour later she walked over and stood behind him, massaging his shoulders.
He groaned. “Ah… that feels good.”
Kate looked at the blinking cursor on one of the computer monitors. “Who’s Phantomphreak?”
“Me.”
“Seriously? That does not sound like you.”
He let out a short laugh. “It wouldn’t be my first choice for a screen name, but I needed something that would fit in. Phreak refers to a type of hacking using phone lines. Phantom is my own little inside joke.”
“So this is the forum?”
“This is it.”
“And you’re monitoring their activity?”
“Yes. Gathering information, engaging when necessary.”
“How did you get them to trust you?”
“A fabricated yet credible backstory that can be verified by a Google search goes a long way. That and patience.”
Kate read the words appearing on the screen. The interactions seemed mostly an exchange of insults interspersed with racial epithets.
“Do they always speak to each other this way?”
“It’s posturing, mostly. Everyone’s a badass on the Internet.”
“Is it tedious?”
“This part is. I greatly prefer the hacking end of it—plugging security holes and intercepting information—versus watching a bunch of low-life thugs brag about all the credit card numbers they just ripped off.”
“So they’re all thieves?” Kate asked pointing to the user names running down the length of the screen.
“Pretty much.”
Kate used her thumbs to gently knead the tight muscle on the back of Ian’s neck.
“Oh yeah, right there,” he said.
“What will happen next?”
“Once we have enough evidence, we’ll round up the worst offenders. Many of them will see jail time. If they’re smart, the ones that are left will scatter.”
He turned his chair around and pulled Kate onto his lap, which was one of her favorite places. His long legs were strong and solid underneath her, and she loved it when he wrapped his arms around her and held her that way.
“Kiss me,” he said.
She pressed her lips to his and dipped her tongue into his mouth. “Like that?”
“Just like that,” he said, pulling her in for another.