Unauthorized Access (2 page)

Dysart made a waving gesture with his hand. “We’re going to be family someday, and if you’re going to take care of my Lesley, you darn well better do okay for yourself.”

Rob couldn’t help but chuckle. “What makes you think Lesley and I will end up getting married?”

“It’s only a matter of time. At least that’s what Sheila claims every time you and Lesley come for dinner. The two of you are no sooner out the door at the end of the night and she’s going on about the beautiful children you’re going to have.”

“Sounds like I don’t have any say in the matter.”

Dysart’s face grew serious again. “Now you have to realize, I can’t make success happen for you. I can only put you on the merger team. After that you’ve got to do your part, bring value to the process.”

“I’ll do my absolute best,” Rob said. “I can promise you that.”

“I bet you already have some ideas about how to assess Grantham’s I.T. capabilities.”

Rob stared at the glass table while he thought for a few seconds.

“We’ll need an inventory of their computer applications,” he said, “as well as an up-to-date list of our own systems.”

He stood up and started pacing, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Heck, yeah,” Rob continued. “I bet we could put together a comparison chart that shows areas where we overlap and others where we—”

Rob stopped when he noticed Dysart shaking his head and grinning at him.

“What?” Rob said.

“I was right about you,” Dysart said. “You grab the world by the tail and yank hard, just like me.”

Rob tried to conceal a widening smile but he couldn’t. He flashed back to the feeling he had when he walked into Dysart’s office. Rob wondered if that was a premonition of impending good luck.

He had no idea how wrong he was on that score.

* * *

When Tim finally got an ATM, he had to try twice before he entered his PIN correctly. Then he chose to transfer. From savings to checking. One, two, three, four. He pressed the OK button.

The slip of paper seemed to take forever to pop out of the slot. He grabbed it and read the time printed on his receipt. Four-fifty-eight. He made it!

Tim suddenly felt lightheaded. He stowed his bank card in his wallet and hurried out to the Tremont Street sidewalk.

Standing to one side of the stream of people on their way home, Tim closed his eyes and tried to relax. The elation he had expected did not come. Instead his stomach clenched and he started to shake. Hugging both arms to his chest, he shuffled to the edge of the sidewalk and leaned against the concrete wall of the office tower, struggling to take a normal breath. He gasped repeatedly, nearly doubled over with the effort to draw air all the way into his lungs. Within moments he was panting rapidly. It felt like nothing was making it past the top of his throat.

What had he done? My God, what if this backfired? His job would be gone, and even worse he’d lose any chance of ever regaining what was rightfully his. He jammed his eyes even more tightly shut and willed himself to get a grip. He had planned carefully. Everything would work out fine.

“Hey man, are you all right?”

Tim lifted his head and squinted enough to see a teenager with dreadlocks standing in front of him. The guy had a backpack draped over one shoulder and was carrying a well-worn skateboard almost completely covered with decals. The look on the young man’s face made it clear he was concerned. Behind him a small group was starting to gather, three or four business people carrying briefcases and purses, all of them looking at Tim as if he were a carnival sideshow.

Tim couldn’t stand for anyone to see him like this. He felt naked and exposed, without the emotional suit of armor he wore every day to keep people from seeing the loneliness inside. He tried to tell them he was fine so they’d leave him alone but he couldn’t work up enough air pressure to make any sound come out.

With one elbow he pushed himself off the building wall and roughly shouldered his way past the teenager.

“Hey,” the guy said indignantly, “what the hell’s your problem, asshole?”

Tim didn’t even glance back. He staggered down the sidewalk as quickly as he could, still fighting to take a full breath as he headed for the subway.

C
HAPTER
T
WO

A LARGE BLUE logo on each side of the white van marked it as the property of WNWB-TV NEWS. Video cameras, tripods, and sound gear of every description were arrayed inside. Such were the tools of the trade for Shayna Givhan, who drove the van while Lesley McGrath sat in the passenger seat.

“You know what?” Lesley said. “I bet that story we just did will be the part of the six o’clock news when all the viewers get up off their couches and go to the bathroom.”

“You don’t like covering birthday parties?” Shayna said with a look of mock dismay.

“Don’t get me wrong, she was a sweet old lady. And it isn’t everyone who can hang around for a century and still remember the punch line when she tells a joke. But we’re not exactly talking front page news here.”

“Not to worry, honeycakes,” Shayna said. “We won’t be the new kids on the block forever.”

“I know,” Lesley said, “and I’m not complaining. I love my job. I’m just looking forward to the day when we get stories we can sink our teeth into.”

“Don’t forget that ribbon-cutting ceremony we did last week.”

Lesley laughed. “I rest my case.”

The two young women worked on opposite sides of the camera, which explained some of the differences in their appearance. Lesley’s shoulder-length brown hair was a mass of wavy curls just this side of unruly. Her subdued makeup, simple gold earrings and light blue, size-eight suit were designed to project a wholesome image to television viewers.

Her co-worker, on the other hand, enjoyed anonymity behind the camera. A tiny diamond stud adorned one side of Shayna’s nose. She wore small oval glasses with black frames. Behind them her eyes seemed perpetually creased from smiling, in contrast to the rest of her smooth, brown face. Her normally curly hair had been straightened, parted and combed into two black curtains that ended just above the collar of her leather jacket.

Shayna turned off Commonwealth Avenue onto the side street where Lesley’s brownstone apartment building was located.

“So what are you up to tonight?” Shayna said. “Another exciting evening watching Dancing with the Stars with Leo the lion?”

“Hey, he gets lonely staying home all day.”

“I thought cats preferred being alone.”

“He’s only a baby,” Lesley said. “And anyway, I’m going out with Rob tonight.”

“What do you know, an actual social life.”

“It’s the seventh anniversary of our first date.”

“A special occasion, no less. Are we talking presents here?”

“Not usually,” Lesley said, “but we always go out to dinner.”

“Seven years. Damn, girlfriend. And you two ain’t hitched yet?”

“We weren’t together all that time. We had this big fight after our first year of college and broke up, saw other people for a while.”

“Still, that’s a long time to be with one guy and still be living with a cat.”

“I suppose,” Lesley said, and then she grinned. “But he’s a really good cat.”

Shayna shook her head as she stopped the van in front of Lesley’s building. “Sometimes I worry about you, girl.”

* * *

Tim leaned on the buzzer to Rob’s apartment for the third time. Rob’s parking slot was empty and earlier Rob had told Tim he was taking Lesley to dinner that night. Still, Tim wanted to be triple sure Rob was out.

When he was completely satisfied, Tim took two keys from his pocket. These had been made months before when he “borrowed” the keys from Rob’s desk at work and had copies made at a nearby lock and key shop. He used one key to enter the building and, after taking the stairs two at a time, the other opened Rob’s apartment door.

Once inside Tim pulled on a pair of latex gloves and started toward the spare bedroom. After only a few steps he noticed something new on the end table in the living room. He walked over to it and immediately felt the tightness grow between his shoulder blades. The framed photograph had not been there the last time he visited Rob’s apartment. It showed the happy couple sitting on a truly ugly plaid sofa with Rob’s arm around Lesley, drinks in their hands and sickening grins on their faces.

Tim filled his lungs and blew out slowly through pursed lips until no more would come, held it while the oxygen debt grew. A jagged intake of air and only the tension at the back of his skull remained.

At least he had resisted the urge to smash the picture.

Tim recognized the occasion in the photo. Natalie Brewer’s party the previous Friday night had been yet another opportunity for Tim to strap on his happy face, to pretend he didn’t care.

But this was no time to brood. Tim had work to do and he wanted to be out of the apartment quickly in case Rob and Lesley returned early from their dinner date. He took one last look at the photograph. His latex-covered finger traced the outline of Lesley’s face. Slowly, a tender caress.

She was so perfect.

* * *

Lesley looked in the mirror over her dresser and sighed. Her hair had stymied her for as long as she could remember. She straightened, curled, brushed, parted and tied, but the end result was always the same—a confusion of waves with a will of its own. She gave up and put down the brush. A tiny bundle of orange fur pounced on it and tried to kill it.

“It’s already dead, Leo,” Lesley said.

The attack on the brush ended abruptly and the kitten leapt onto the nearby bed.

“Oh no you don’t. I don’t want to find yellow stains on the blanket when I get home.”

Lesley deposited Leo in the tiny apartment hallway and closed the bedroom door behind her. The kitten spotted a foam ball nearby, gave it a bat and raced after it.

A car horn sounded from outside. Lesley crossed her living room and looked out the window at the street below. Rob waved at her through the windshield of his black Nissan Pathfinder.

“Be good while I’m gone,” she said to Leo, who paid her no attention whatsoever. He was busy trying to disembowel the foam ball. She locked the apartment door, skipped lightly down two flights of stairs and got into Rob’s car.

Rob gave her a quick kiss and said, “You’re not going to believe what happened today.”

She pulled on her seat belt. “From the smile on your face I’d say it was something good.”

“I’m going to owe your uncle a big Christmas present.”

“Why?”

Rob looked over his shoulder and pulled away from the curb.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone,” he said.

“All right.”

“Stan would kill me if he found out I told you, but you know me. I can never keep anything from you.”

Lesley knew this was true. It was torture for him to make it to her birthday without giving her hints about whatever present he had bought.

“First Malden is looking to acquire another bank,” Rob said, “and Stan is putting me on the team that decides if the merger makes sense.”

Lesley’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re kidding.”

“If I impress the executive types, that could put me on a career path to eventually become an executive myself. I mean, I like computers and everything, but writing programs won’t make me rich.”

Lesley grinned. “Will you remember me when you’re fabulously wealthy?”

Rob reached over and gave her hand a squeeze.

“I’ll need someone to help me spend all that money.”

“Oh, I could be good at that.”

Rob put on his blinker to turn right as they approached Commonwealth Avenue.

“I thought we were going to Antonio’s,” she said.

“We are.”

“But downtown is the other way.”

“Patience, my dear,” he said in a mock stage voice. “All will be revealed soon.”

Her puzzlement grew as they drove toward Newton. Eventually he turned left onto a residential street, stopped by the curb and opened his door.

“Hop out,” he said, “I have something to show you.”

Rob went around to her side of the car and guided her across the sidewalk to a picket fence.

“I saw it one morning last week when Tim and I were out biking,” he said. “What do you think?”

The white Cape Cod occupied a corner lot with a collection of nicely trimmed shrubs. A young boy and girl were playing on a swing set in the back yard.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Lesley asked.

“There are bigger ones but this one seemed perfect.”

“You mean the house?”

“I can’t live in an apartment forever.”

She turned to face him. “You mean you want to—”

Her breath caught in her throat. Rob was down on one knee and held a tiny box open in his hand. The box contained a diamond ring.

Lesley found she could no longer breathe. Was this really happening? Right here? Right now?

He reached out with his free hand to hold one of hers.

“Some day I’d like to carry you over the threshold into a house like this,” he said, “but first you have to agree to marry me.”

Lesley felt tears well up in her eyes. She had never realized before then just how long she had been dreaming of this moment. She bit her lip and stared at the ring that sat so innocently in the little box with the lid flipped up. Two smaller stones flanked a good-sized diamond in the middle of the setting.