Head Over Heels (15 page)

He didn't want to get involved in something else that would tie him down again.

“Amen,” he said.

“Amen,” Marielle answered, and immediately started eating, which told Russ how hungry she was.

“This sauce is great. You're a good cook,” she said.

Russ toyed with a length of spaghetti on his fork. “Not really. It's just the canned stuff with a bit of extra oregano.”

“My fiancé was a good cook, too.”

Suddenly, Russ was no longer hungry. “Fiancé?”

“Yes. I was engaged once. Didn't Pastor Tom tell you?”

“No, he didn't.”

She sighed. “Michael dumped me a couple of days before what was supposed to be our wedding. If I have to look back and see something good, at least he didn't leave me at the altar.”

“Do you want to talk about it? It's okay if you don't.”

“I'm sure you're curious.” She sighed and continued. “He was a real go-getter, moving up early in the corporate world. Just like you. He worked, and I worked to help support him—even to the detriment of my own college education. But in the end, everything that I thought we were doing for ‘us,' was really all just for him.” She laughed dryly. “In the end, he found my lack of higher education and corporate sophistication unworthy of a man like himself. So he dumped me for another woman.”

“You make it sound so cut-and-dried. Things are seldom that simple.”

“But sometimes they are. He married someone who was just as ambitious as himself. They have a huge house, three cars between the two of them, a foo-foo dog with a fussy haircut, a live-in housekeeper and no children. They say they're happy, but I don't know if they know how to be happy—they're too busy working for the next ‘best' of whatever is the latest trend.”

“That sounds so shallow.”

“It's not a sin to be rich. People get it wrong all the time. It's not that money is the root of all evil. It's the
love
of money that's the bad thing.”

“You sound like you're making excuses for him.” He stiffened and sucked in a deep breath. “Do you still love him?”

“No. I can say that without a doubt. It wouldn't have worked between us, I can see that, but it sure hurt at the time.”

“I'm so sorry, but glad you're here now.”

“And I'm glad
you're
here. Now let's go see if you can show me anything with that file.”

Russ led her down the hall to the den, but as he walked he kept hearing her words in his mind.

Just like you.

Was he really as selfish as this other guy? Russ knew he worked a lot of hours, including weekends. That wasn't so bad. Lots of people did it. He didn't know why it was somehow okay to work two jobs and do nothing but work and sleep if a person was completely broke, but
not
okay if a person worked extra hard, even had two jobs, if he was well-off.

“It's not a sin to work hard, either, you know,” he blurted out. “That's the only way that poor people can get ahead. Is there some line where you have to stop working hard once you pass a certain level?”

“You make it sound like I'm accusing you of something, and I'm not.”

“Maybe not, but you've hit a nerve.”

“I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. Now let's see what you can do with that file.”

Grateful for the change in subject, Russ opened the directory. “This file has to be the reason for all our troubles. Think about it. It was on the computer that
used to be mine at the office. That's the same computer that was left on at the center. No one can get in without the password, so whoever was trying to find this file wasn't successful. That would also explain why they went to my home computer and nowhere else in the house. They must have been hoping I would have a copy on my hard drive here.”

“Why would they go to
my
house, then? I wouldn't be taking home copies of your files.”

“No, but they didn't go after your computer. The thing that went missing was keys.”

“Keys for non-related things.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I was thinking, this all points to Jessie. This is a project we were working on together. She doesn't know the password to get into this computer, so after not finding the file on my home computer, the next step would be to try to try to figure out the password. But if time is limited, if she couldn't take the time here, then the way to have more time would be to take the computer and try someplace else. But we've got the computers all locked down. I don't have keys on my chain, but for all she knew, maybe you did, because you're the leader there. I think she was looking for the key for the computer so she could steal it and take it home to figure out my password.”

“So what do we do?”

“I have to know why she wants this file so bad.”

“I don't understand how it could be on your computer in the first place, if you're password protected.”

“Jessie is in and out of our office all the time. I don't
lock up my computer when I'm gone for breaks—there's no reason to. The office isn't open to the public, it's only other staff. It would have been easy for Jessie to have transferred this file onto my computer when I was away on a break. I just don't understand why.”

“You say she was in your office the day of the accident. Why didn't she just transfer it off then, while you were out cold lying on my car.”

“Because I had just started a reboot, and Jessie doesn't have the password. Hey. I just remembered something. It just came naturally. That feels so good.”

“What happened after you rebooted?”

“I don't remember finishing. I just remember getting really frustrated with a new program installation, and then having to reboot twice.”

Marielle went silent, and Russ assumed that she was going to let him try to remember what happened. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingertips to his temples.

“Nothing else is coming. I remember feeling the frustration, and I remember standing up and turning to the window. That's all. But at least I'm not getting a headache anymore when I try to think about it.”

“Then maybe you shouldn't overdo it.”

Russ drew in a deep breath and sighed. “Of course you're right. Now that we know what's happening, I should be concentrating on catching her in the act.”

Marielle held up her palm. “Not so fast. What if we're putting two and two together, and coming up with five?”

Russ frowned. “You're right. It makes sense to us, but really, we don't have any solid proof. We have to catch
whoever is doing this actually doing something before we go making accusations, or alarming Pastor Tom.”

Marielle pointed to the door leading to the hall. “If it is Jessie, she's either got a key or she's coming in through a window somewhere and then just walking through the halls and going wherever she wants.”

“I know. I've looked at the locks. The outside door locks are dead bolts, but everything else in the building is old and not made for security. All the inside doors, including the one to the youth center room, can be opened with a credit card. I just haven't done it because I didn't want to insult Pastor Tom.”

Marielle grinned. “I know. I've done that a couple of times, when I accidentally left my keys in the room and didn't feel like going outside the building and all the way around to the other door.”

Russ grinned. “That's pretty funny. I hope you didn't get caught.”

Marielle grinned back. “I hope not. I could get fired for being a bad example.” Her grin dropped. “I just thought of something. Your keys and the disks disappeared when we were both here. That means she has to have a helper. There have been a lot of people here lately that I've never seen before. If this file is important enough for Jessie to go to all this trouble, it's got to be very important. Do you think she might have pushed you, and it's the shock that's making you unable to remember?”

“I hope not.” But Russ had already thought the same thing. What worried him more than anything was that if Jessie had deliberately pushed him out the window
and nearly killed him, then she would be equally capable of doing the same to Marielle.

The possibility terrified him.

Which made it even more imperative that he get into the file as quickly as he could.

He turned around, not looking at Marielle as he spoke. “But just the same, just in case she has gone off the deep end, I want you to promise me that you'll be really careful, and that you won't go into places where you'll be vulnerable and alone.” Marielle was the most predictable person he'd ever met; he could time her entrances and her exits with a stopwatch every day. And though it was one of the things that made her so charming, it also put her at risk of being tailed.

“I think it's time I went home, it's getting late,” she said.

Russ wanted to ask if he could follow her home, just to be sure she was safe, but he had a feeling he knew what kind of reaction he would get.

“Before you go, I want to give you something.” He reached into his pocket. “I'm not really comfortable with this, but I don't know what else to do. I want you to take my flash drive, and as soon as you get home, hide it somewhere safe, where no one but you will find it. Don't keep it in your purse or anywhere on you. The file is copied onto it. If something happens to me, I want you to turn this over to the police.”

Her face paled.

“Don't worry. Now that I'm starting to think we might have figured something out, I know to be extra careful. I hate doing this to you, but a backup is only as good as the storage, and storage is safest at a remote
location. I don't know who else I can trust until I get this mess sorted out. I don't even like it being in your purse for the amount of time it's going to take you to get home, but I don't think we have a choice. You don't have to stop anywhere tonight, do you?”

“No. I'm going straight home. I can think of a few places already that no one would find it. I'll see you tomorrow. I sure hope you can find out what that file is and why it's so important to her.”

“I
'm glad we're both here early today. I found one of the windows unlocked when I got here. I know we double-checked them all on Sunday. What do you think of that?”

Marielle turned and stared at the closest window. A cold shiver of dread tingled up her spine. “Maybe it was just someone coming in for a warm, dry place to spend the night. It's a church, after all.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Marielle tried not to let the nervousness show through in her voice. “No. Not really.”

“I didn't think so. I don't think that, either. What I do think is that something is rotten in the state of Denmark.”

“Where did that expression come from?”

“Shakespeare.
Hamlet.
”

“What have you been doing here all this time? Surely not just walking around checking doors and windows.”

“I've been trying to get this file to open, and I'm more than a little frustrated. I've uninstalled and rein
stalled different versions of several programs more times than I can count. Nothing seems to work. I can't figure out her encryption.”

“Are you saying that you won't be able to open the file?”

“I have a few more things to try, but it doesn't look good.”

One thing that did look good to her, though, was Russ, stretched out as casually as could be on the chair.

The way he was sprawled out emphasized his trim waistline and the length of his legs. Despite the heavy topic of conversation, the casual position made him look playful, and the little bump on his nose hinted at a bad-boy attitude, whether he had it or not. He probably didn't realize that he'd mussed his hair, making him look just untidy enough that it begged her to run her fingers through his hair.

He was smart, and he was good-looking.

“Sit up straight,” she grumbled, trying to control her errant thoughts. “That's bad for your posture.”

He also was good at following instructions, because he immediately sat straight and planted both feet flat on the floor, setting his legs at forty-five-degree angles. He positioned himself with his back perfectly straight, and his hands slightly over elbow height at the keyboard.

“You must type a lot, don't you.”

He nodded as he punched in a few keys, then hit enter and waited to see what would happen. “Yup. Last time I took a typing test I clocked myself at seventy-five words per minute. But I know I could do better now.”

He was a good typist, too.

More and more, she wanted to find some fatal flaw about him. Something that would make her
not
like him.

“I plan on being early every day this week. I want to surprise our unwelcome guest and catch her red-handed trying to hack into this computer.”

“What about next week, when you're not here? What will happen then?”

His hands stilled over the keyboard. “I'm going to do everything in my power to get this thing settled this week. I'm going to find out what's in this file if it kills me. When I know what this is, then I'll know how to deal with Jessie.”

Marielle pressed her fingers to her temples. “Has Grant managed to get a hold of her yet?”

“Nope. That would make things easier, but no one has heard from her.”

Marielle turned her head toward the desk. “I should check that pile of disks to make sure nothing's been added or deleted.”

“Good idea.”

Marielle checked the disks one at a time. To make the task less tedious, she watched Russ at work as he continued in his attempts to gain access to the file. She'd never seen such concentration. Nothing distracted him. Even though he'd admitted to being frustrated, he seemed the epitome of patience as he tried and tried again. Still, nothing worked.

When her last disk was checked and the contents confirmed unchanged, Marielle sat back and waited for the youth group to arrive.

Everything proceeded normally that day, except when it came time to let everyone practice what they had learned. Today, instead of standing and watching, Russ returned to his own computer, and his mission.

Jason seemed mesmerized watching Russ in action. After only a few minutes, he abandoned his computer and stood beside Russ for a while as Russ continued his efforts. Marielle watched from her desk as Jason dragged a chair and sat beside Russ, and the two of them talked while Russ worked.

She couldn't hear what they were saying, but when Jason said something, then pointed to one of the files in a window Russ had opened, Russ stiffened, then began frantically keying in, hit enter, and sat back.

A video began to take shape on the monitor.

Marielle stood and pushed her chair away so fast she nearly sent it crashing to the floor. She ran across the room to see a video of a man and a woman, who didn't look like they knew they were being filmed, walking through a mall, holding hands. The man carried a number of bags that appeared to be from an upscale ladies boutique.

“I know this man,” Russ said. “He's currently our biggest client. It's really strange, but a few days before my accident, he told me he wanted to push everything ahead, and then after, Grant told me he had put everything on hold. I wish I knew why Jessie has this video, and why she's gone to such lengths to recover it.”

The camera zoomed in closer, and Russ knew. “That woman isn't his wife.”

The man in the video leaned down and brushed a kiss
onto the woman's cheek. She turned her head, they exchanged a short kiss, and then they kept walking.

Russ put the video on pause. “I can't watch this.”

Marielle's stomach tightened into a painful knot. She didn't know this man, or his wife, but her heart ached for the woman, and she tried not to hate the man or the woman he was with.

She couldn't help but be reminded of her fiancé. When Michael had said he didn't want to marry her, that had been enough of a shock. Her first question had been whether there was another woman, and Michael had said there wasn't. She'd believed him, but then, when she was in the middle of the heart-wrenching process of canceling all their wedding plans, she had discovered there
was
another woman. And worse, many of the guests who would have been at their wedding had
known
about the other woman. She couldn't believe that her so-called friends—friends that she had invited to her wedding—hadn't told her.

Russ made a few adjustments to enlarge the picture. “There's something wrong here.”

“Of course there's something wrong!” Marielle snapped. “The man is cheating on his wife!”

“No. Not that. It's the resolution.” He backed up a few frames and stopped at the point when they were separating after their kiss.

Marielle couldn't look. The situation brought back all the heartache of Michael's betrayal and his criticism of her shortcomings, which he explained in detail one by one. He had even said that everything that happened, including his finding another woman, was
Marielle's fault. He had told her Elaine was everything that Marielle wasn't.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm the turmoil inside her, but curiosity got the better of her and she opened them again.

Russ had enlarged the picture even more, until just the faces filled the screen.

Marielle knew she was on the verge of tears. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to take short shallow breaths to control herself.

“There. Jason, Marielle, look at this.” Being careful not to touch the monitor with his fingers, Russ picked up a pen and pointed to a few spots in the image. “See? Right here. This isn't right. This has been digitally altered.” He backed up a few more frames, enlarged them, and then pointed to the same area in the previous frame. “See how it's different? They should be the same. In real time, those frames would have been less than a second apart.”

Jason nodded. “Yes, I can see it now.” He turned to Russ. “So this means that the images of this guy have been added over top of someone else?”

“Exactly.”

“I don't understand,” Marielle said.

Russ turned to her. “It means that this situation really didn't happen. This woman was kissing someone, but it wasn't Byron. He's been added to the video. The images of his face have been planted frame by frame over top of those of the man that this really happened to.”

“I still don't understand. For what purpose?”

“I'm not sure I do, either. Doing something like this is a lot of work. Every frame has to be worked at pixel by pixel in the area to be changed. What we've seen so far would have taken months to do. It's done really well, too. I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't put it on pause—and I'm an expert at this kind of thing.”

“What does this mean?”

Russ stared at the screen. “The only reason I can think of to make a video like this would be to try to blackmail someone. Why would Jessie want to make someone think Byron was having an affair? Who would she show this video to?”

“Or maybe it's the other way around,” Jason said. “Maybe she made it
not
to be shown. Or to be shown only once. To this guy in the picture.”

Russ's eyes widened. “That explains it. The way Byron ended the project so abruptly, it looked like he suddenly ran out of money. I wonder if Jessie showed this to him, and then threatened to show his wife. She could be using this for extortion.”

“But you just said it's a fake.”

He turned to her. “Sometimes that doesn't matter. First, Byron would have to
prove
it's fake, but in the time it would take to get the evidence, the damage would already be done. His wife would feel the betrayal. Even finding out the video was fake, that sense of betrayal could never be completely erased. She'd never be completely sure, and she might never trust him again. That's why lawyers say things to the jury they know they're not supposed to say, and then retract it. They're planting seeds to make their case, knowing
that once said, right or wrong, the words can't be erased from a person's memory.”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “It's like when someone says something really mean to you, then laughs and says they're just kidding. But it still hurts because it's already been said.”

All the things Michael had said when he told her he couldn't marry her roared through her head—that she wasn't good enough for a man who had ambition, that she wasn't smart enough because she didn't go to college. But it wasn't that she didn't
want
to go to college. It was that she'd been working two jobs to pay tuition for Michael to go to college. Plus she often helped him with his research. By the time he graduated, she was burned out, and told him she wanted some downtime to prepare for her own college adventure. Instead of respecting her needs, or being thankful that she'd nearly driven herself to the point of exhaustion for him, he'd called her lazy and unmotivated, then had accused her of planning to sit back and do nothing after they were married. Of course that wasn't true, but Michael wouldn't listen as she tried to defend herself. Nothing she said could change his mind. He'd gone on to say that no one would ever love someone like her because she was unwilling to better herself.

He'd even said that the reason he'd found someone else was that Marielle was never around when he needed her, and when she was around, too often she fell asleep on the couch, proving that she was indeed lazy.

She would never forget Michael's hurtful words for as long as she lived. For a long time, she'd believed they
were true. It had taken a lot of healing for her to put the hurt behind her.

Her lower lip started to quiver and the backs of her eyes burned. She couldn't stop it.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Marielle? Jason, can you excuse us?”

Before Marielle knew what was happening, Russ stood, took hold of her elbow and guided her through the inside door.

He shut the door behind them so they stood alone in the hallway. “What's wrong?” he asked gently.

“I know how that woman is going to feel,” she choked out, then began to sob.

Russ wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as she cried uncontrollably into his chest.

When she had cried herself out, Russ ran his fingers through her hair. “Was your ex-fiancé cheating on you?” he asked.

She nodded a few times in rapid succession, keeping her face pressed against his shirt so he wouldn't see her bloodshot eyes or puffy cheeks. “Just like everyone says, I was the last to know. In addition to feeling totally betrayed, I felt so stupid. I know exactly how Byron's wife is going to feel. Even if he does prove later that the video is a fake, the hurt is going to happen.”

“I can only guess. I'm so sorry that happened to you.” He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “You're too special to be treated like that.”

“You don't have to say things like that when you know they're not true.”

“But it
is
true, and don't let anyone ever tell you dif
ferent. Are you okay now? We've got to get back in there. We've left the teens on their own and they're going to start wondering where we've gone.”

Russ returned to the youth center while Marielle ran to the washroom to splash some cold water on her face. By the time she returned to the room, only a few of the teens remained, which was a profound relief.

She kept herself busy until the last few left, then Russ joined her.

“This really changes things. What we saw took months of work. I can see why Jessie is going to such extremes to get it back. I know she only has one computer—her laptop. She backs up her files on our company server, but if this is something she didn't want to put on our server because she didn't want anyone to have access to it, putting it on my computer in a hidden file is the perfect place to hide it. I know her laptop crashed the night before my accident, so that means the copy she had for safekeeping on my computer became the only copy. That would explain why she's going through such efforts to get it.”