Page 141 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection

De Leon waits for me to pack up and trails me up to the podium. Two students linger, but as soon as Lindy sees us walk up, he shoo-es them off, telling them to come to his office hours.

I introduce De Leon again when Lindy turns his attention to us. De Leon’s got all the right moves, I’ll give him that. He holds Lindy’s hand a little too long after they shake. In all the time we were in England, he never made eye contact with me the way he does with Lindy, complimenting everything from his baggy jeans to his skills as a lecturer. De Leon’s deep voice lifts to the perfect, half-shy, half-hopeful note as he asks if Lindy has time to join us for a bite to eat.

Lindy takes the bait so fast, I don’t even have to offer to pay.

You wouldn’t know De Leon’s my body man as he makes small talk with Lindy on the way to the nacho bar. He seems relaxed, walking along with his shoulders slightly hunched, his body angled toward Lindy’s. But I notice the way he keeps himself between me and everything else, including the street and Lindy. He asks for a booth and nods me into the corner, positioning himself again between me and the room.

Sitting across from Lindy, De Leon keeps up the eye contact and adds small touches. He teases Lindy gently about his veganqueso, but listens with apparent earnestness to Lindy’s rant about veganism and the dairy and meat industries destroying the planet. By the time our nachos arrive, I swear they’re playing footsie under the table.

De Leon knows what I want to get out of Lindy and opens opportunities for me to ask my questions without them coming out of the blue. Fuck, he’s a good interrogator. Lindy answers my questions without breaking eye-contact with De Leon. Every answer is another nail in the coffin.

We’re lingering over Coronas when I get to my last few questions. “Tell Myles about your company’s AUTON program. Made a fucking splash with that one.”

Lindy grins and launches into a technical explanation of the algorithm behind the self-drive program that made Lindy’s former employer famous.

Myles swings his head back and forth like he’s impressed. “How’d I never hear of it?”

I lean in like I’m telling him a secret. “Defense department snapped it up as soon as they realized the ramifications for personal safety systems.”

And they gave Lindy’s company a billion-dollar contract to create a program called WEDGE.

“Ah,” Myles says.

I wink at Lindy. “Didn’t stay dark, though, did it? Hard to keep something that sexy out of the right hands.”

Lindy chuckles. “I know you don’t believe any code is sacred, Max, but there weren’t any leaks for three years. That’s eons in tech time.”

To be fair, it is.

“Any idea how widespread it is now?” I ask.

Lindy shrugs. “Thirty countries. Thousands of end-users.”

“And it’s never been cracked,” I say.

“Well,” Lindy says. “There are rumors. Nothing substantiated. I didn’t work on the final program, but I hear the coding’s tight.”

“Until you released my hack.”

Lindy blinks at me. “What?”

“Your picture on the university website. The lines of code on the whiteboard behind you? They’re part of my hack. Fuck, I knew I recognized that coding. I just couldn’t put it together, Ness.”

Lindy’s smile turns cold.

De Leon shifts and Lindy flinches. I’m not sure what he’s done under the table, but I don’t think Lindy’s going anywhere until this conversation is over.

“Why?” I ask.

“Why burn my former employer? I think you know the answer to that.”

“Because they fired you for sleeping with your married boss? Fuck’s sake, man. There arethousandsof people who believe they’re safe when they really have nothing between them and a gun. How many fucking angry NYU undergrads have taken a swipe at WEDGE after looking at your damn faculty profile?”

Lindy shrugs. “Not enough. They’re patching faster than we’re hacking. That’s why we need you back, Max. You made it work.”

“I made it work because you told me we were supporting our boys over there. That’s not what you’re doing. You’re waving a big, redfuck youat the people who screwed you without giving a shit about the people who are hurt in the process. Peopledied. Three little kidsdied?—”

Lindy slashes his hand through the air to cut me off. “That was a mistake. Won’t happen again. I’ve got clean targets this time. Good targets. They’ll make headlines. Orelo will havehundreds of unhappy customers screaming down their door. They’ll go bust. Then the job’s done. You’re out, Max.”