Killing Katie (An Affair With Murder) (Volume 1) (7 page)

“I do,” I answered cautiously. “I don’t know how to use this.” I wanted to avoid eye contact, so I kept my gaze to the table between us.

“Macs usually come with Safari, but the library has been good enough to install Firefox and Chrome.”

“I know Firefox. It’s what I use at home,” I exclaimed, thinking that all wasn’t lost. I looked up again, searching for the familiar foxtail icon.

“They should really put it on the desktop, but they never do.” The nerd moved his seat closer to mine. I moved over to make room. He seemed harmless. When he was next to me, I took a closer look at him and thought that he could either have been in college or just out of high school. He was a cute boy, but if he was ever going to catch the eyes of a girl he’d desperately need a makeover. “May I?”

“Sure. Yes, thank you.” For a nerd, the boy was more sociable, even likable than the geeks I’d grown up with.

The boy leaned in and tapped a few keys, bringing up the familiar Firefox interface that I knew. “There you go. I put a shortcut on the desktop too.”

“Excellent. And I use it just like I do at home?”

“Sure thing. The Internet doesn’t care about which browser you use. Just don’t search for anything illegal,” he laughed. At once, I took my hands off the keyboard. He stopped laughing and lifted his chin, intrigued by my reaction. “In that case, you’ll want to use a different browser altogether.”

Five minutes into my first research session and I’d already shown my hand, already drawn suspicion. A part of me wanted to scream, to grab my things, and to run from the library as if my hair were on fire.

“You know a lot about computers?” I asked, trying to settle the nervous shake in my voice. “You know how to search for things? Safely search for things?”

“You a cop?” he asked abruptly. His face went blank, aging him ten years. “You know that you have to tell me if I ask you to identify yourself.”

My desperation swung to a sense of relief. I was in luck. Nerd was at the library, seeking out the same anonymity. “I think that only works in movies. And no, I’m not a cop.”

“You’re not really looking for a job, are you?” he asked, motioning to the librarian.

“Nope. Not looking for a job. Just need to use a computer.”

“Well, then,” he began to say and motioned to the computer. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

“Deal,” I answered, extending my hand. “Call me . . . Amelia.”

“Like the pilot,” he said, nodding. “That way you can just disappear without a trace.”

“Yeah. Something like that.” It was a coincidence that I’d picked that particular name, but I liked what he said. And more than that, I liked the way he thought.

“Call me—”

“Nerd,” I answered for him. His brow narrowed, stitching together as he considered the name. Soon, a dimple appeared on his cheek.

“Sure. Nerd,” he agreed. “Why not? That’s a safe name. So you are here to do some research that you can’t do at home?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How much do you know about the Internet?” he asked as he flashed through a half-dozen screens on my computer.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how do you normally use the web?”

“Well, I shop and check the—”

“Weather,” he interrupted. “You’re surfing high.”

“Excuse me?” I said abruptly, uncertain of where the conversation was leading.

“You’ve only scratched the surface,” he continued as more web pages flashed across the screen. “You are surfing in the top five percent, along with everyone else.”

“So what is in the other ninety-five percent?” I asked, having heard a little about the darker areas of the Internet from Steve. But that certainly didn’t mean I knew how to access them. Nerd’s eyes opened wide in excitement.

“Well, Amelia, let me tell you. Wait, I’ll show you,” he began. “
That
is the Deep Web. And I think that is where you’ll find what it is you’re looking for.”

“How do you know what I’m looking for?” I asked, leaning back and cautiously gripping my purse. An uneasy, urgent feeling came to me.

“Relax,” he answered, reading my reaction. “Because that is why I am here. The Deep Web is where I do my work.”

“You spend your day in the library, surfing the Deep Web?” I asked.

“Maybe not quite like that,” he laughed. “The library is quiet and safe. I write code for anyone willing to pay. And it just so happens that the best-paying customers advertise their jobs on the dark net.”

I held my purse tight, suddenly intent on leaving. I didn’t know what to make of Nerd. Maybe he was just showing off, or maybe he thought that he could trade favors with me behind one of the bookshelves.

“You never answered my question. What am I looking for?”

“My guess . . .” he started to say, sizing me up and down. “You’ve got something on the side and want to keep it that way, only your husband is a bit too tech savvy to risk doing anything at home. Am I right?” His face lit up as though he’d guessed the right answer on the first try.

“Murder,” I corrected him, shaking my head. My voice sounded icy. It sounded exactly the way I’d hoped it would. I wanted to gauge his reaction. But he didn’t pack up and run like I’d expected. Instead, he shrugged.

“Really?” he answered. “Doing research for a book? Or are you talking about the real thing?”

“Research,” I confessed. “That’s all I want to say for now.” Nerd nodded his head slowly.

Had I offered too much?

For all he knew, I could be trying to call
his
bluff.

“That’s fine. I can show you a few things to help you with your
research
,” he answered.

“So what makes the Deep Web . . . deep?” I asked, trying to tap my immediate need and move past the current topic. “I mean, why isn’t it all one Web?”

“What’s the first thing you do on a computer?” he asked, moving back to the keyboard and tapping. A browser window opened, showing a familiar search box.

“I search,” I answered.

“Everybody searches,” he continued for me. “To make searching possible, some computer somewhere, some
server
is looking at all the other connected servers, taking down notes about them.”

“That’s how the links come up in the results?” I added, questioning.

“Right. It works because of all the indexing. However, for the servers that are in the Deep Web, they aren’t indexed. They’re out there, but you have to know how to access them. And that is what I know how to do.”

He brought up window upon window—all of them completely alien to me. I understood a little of what he explained, but felt we’d only scratched the surface.

How vast was the Deep Web? How far would I have to go to find what I needed?

“Deep Web must be huge. An ocean.”

Nerd responded with a curt nod. “You might say that. Just about every illegal activity you can think of can be found.”

“Show me,” I demanded. Nerd abruptly raised his hands from the keyboard. I felt a sudden disappointed and a little confused, like I’d just been stood up.

“That kind of knowledge doesn’t come cheap,” he said, lowering one hand, palm facing up. I raised my brow, fixing a look of frustration on my face, but respected how he treated this as a transaction. “Coding has been light and I’ve got to make a living.”

“And you’ll show me?” I asked. The last thing I expected when entering the library this afternoon was that I’d be taking a computer lesson.

“As much as you need.”

Without another thought, I dug into my purse, producing a fifty-dollar bill that I’d put aside for Michael’s birthday card. The bill was fresh and crisp and smelled like ink. “Just printed,” the teller at the bank had said when placing it beneath the thick safety glass and sliding it forward. I hesitated a moment, wanting to make sure that I was doing what I wanted to do, and then placed it in Nerd’s hands. I cringed when he crumpled it into a ball and stuffed it away in his pocket.

“What’s first?”

W
HEN THE SUN
had dipped low enough to reach through the library’s window, I knew that I’d overstayed my time. At best there was twenty minutes of sunlight remaining in the day. I was never late. Never.

“Damn!” I blurted. “What time is it?” I didn’t bother waiting for an answer. The clock on the wall peered at me as if I’d broken a vow. I focused, but I couldn’t find the hour hand, and for a moment I thought the clock must have stopped. But both of the clock hands were pointing straight down, as if indicating where my heart should be. My mouth dropped. I jumped up from the table and gathered my things in a rush. I could feel Nerd staring, curious at my reaction.

Oh to be young and free,
I thought with a sentimental recall. There was just no knowing what you have until it is gone forever.

“I’m late. Really late!” I said, blurting the words.

“Library is going to close soon, anyway,” he offered and began to gather his things. He didn’t recognize my urgency. Why would he?

“Do we need to do anything here?” I asked, motioning to my screen. “Should I shut it down?”

“Nothing to shut down, just need to close a few things,” he answered, not bothering to look up. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it.”

He said a few other things about not needing to shut down, but I only heard mumbles as I raced to the large double doors. On my way, I offered a brief wave to the librarian. She stabbed the air with her hand, seeming to be surprised by my attention.

“I hope you find that job,” she said in a breeze as I passed the counter.

“Still looking,” I answered. “I’ll be back in a day or two.” She nodded as I punched at the door’s brass handle. A second set of doors waited on the other side, leaving me momentarily in a quiet bubble to gather my thoughts and tidy my coat. With the sun nearly gone, the day had turned frigid. I put on a hat and scarf. I never liked the autumn chill, preferring the warmer side of cozy whenever I could. The bubble moment also gave me time to think up an excuse for being so late. I hit the second door and tried to clear my mind.

The outside air washed over me like a draft of cool wind. The sidewalks teemed with people hurrying around me. Car horns blared and traffic was stopped up and down Main Street. The sounds and sights were a world away from the tranquil quiet of the library and filled my head with busy congestion. It was the beginning of the evening and the ending of a workday, and everyone was in a rush to be somewhere else.

“Shit,” I mumbled, looking at the rows of bumper-to-bumper cars and thinking that there’d be no point in rushing.

The air had become crisp in the fading day, and the afternoon shadows stretched long, dark fingers to touch the coming night. The sun was about to vanish, and I had no idea how I was going to explain where I’d been.

I wasn’t just a little late, I was more than two hours late. I glanced at my phone and saw that I’d missed a few phone calls from Steve and a half-dozen text messages—all of them asking where I was. My heart jumped into my throat, beating hard. My skull pounded.

I glanced up at the library’s pitched roof, studying the stony, curved shingles, and tried to understand why my stupid phone hadn’t worked inside. The only thing I could think to do next was to go home. I quickly thumbed an apology, tapping the screen, texting as I walked to my car. My phone’s screen told me that my text was delivered and that it had been read. I stood in front of my car door and peered at my reflection. A humid cloud escaped my lips, and I half-expected to see a monster suddenly emerge from the reflection. But it was just me, staring back. I looked good in the outfit I’d selected for my lunch today, and even prettier with my hat and scarf on. With only an orange glow above the hard line of the horizon, the sun vanishing before me, the extra clothes had been a good call.

I leaned into the car window until my warm breath fogged the glass, making my reflection disappear, hiding it from the world. A reservation nagged at my conscience, and I tried to ignore it. I was still innocent and without sin for the moment. The glass cleared, and I saw a fierceness in my complexion I hadn’t seen before. Patient. Poised. The sight sent a chill through me. I searched for who it was that I wanted to be.

Should I ignore the reservations? Could I ignore who I’d become?

My phone buzzed and the shallow vibration made me jump. I’d stared long enough and slipped inside my car. I started the engine, willing the heat to come on as my teeth chattered. I cranked the thermostat on the dashboard until the thin white line sank into the red section. The heat would take a minute, but the idea of it being set helped a little.

Where are you?
Steve texted.
Are you okay?
He didn’t seem mad, but texting could be misleading as far as tone was concerned.

I’m fine
, I texted back.
On my way home.

My phone said that he read my next text message. I waited for a reply, but there was none. The dread in my gut stayed. He was relieved to know that I was fine, but he would be angry—or worse, disappointed.

The traffic was as bad as I’d expected, but that gave me time to think about what else Nerd had showed me. The Web, as I knew it to be, was nothing more than looking at a storefront. Like walking through a market and seeing what was for sale from the sidewalk. I’d only scratched the surface. Behind the doors, just a few feet from the street, there was so much more going on. In just a short time, he explained more about the Deep Web and showed me different browsers that I could use to access the Web without leaving my fingerprints all over the computer. He’d called it proxy jumping—path hopping across multiple computers, each forwarding requests without leaving a trail. It was more than making just a few simple hops; he prided himself on being able to bounce our traffic over half a dozen servers.

I understood some of what he explained, but he could tell I was becoming lost at times. That feeling of being intimidated by technology sprang forward again, telling me that I’d need to learn as much as I could from him. I nodded like a hungry child when he offered more lessons. But at the same time, I struggled with the idea of trusting him.