Page 110 of The Five Year Lie

“Sir, my name is Drew Miller. I’m a programmer on the customer-facing app.”

“The ex-military kid?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” And how fascinating that Edward knows his name—yet doesn’t seem to know that he’s just been fired. “Mr. Cafferty, I found a really egregious security problem in the warrant system. And it’s already resulted in a crime.”

“Jesus.”Edward lets out a breath of pure surprise. “You’d better explain.”

“Sir, it’s bad. And furthermore, it’s an inside job. Can I come and show it to you? But not in the office.”

“Christ.” Edward clears his throat. “Does Ray know?”

He hesitates, because he made this call before he had time to decide how to play it. “Well... it’s hard to say. There are reasons I haven’t asked him.”

“Fuck.Really?” he barks. “You think he has something to do with this?”

Tread carefully.“I can’t say for sure, sir. But I’d like to explain it to you alone. If that’s okay.”

The ensuing silence is nerve-racking. But finally Edward speaks. “I’m working from home today. I live on Chadwick Street—”

“Yessir. I came to the party on the Fourth.”

“Of course. I have a conference call in a minute. But meet me here in ninety minutes.”

“All right,” he says, checking the time. “So I’ll see you at eleven fifteen.”

“Miller—” he says gruffly. “This had better not be a waste of my time.”

“It’s not,” he says firmly. “And I can prove it. Actually—while you wait for me, try to remember if you know a Captain Whitman on the Lowden police force.”

“There’s no Captain Whitman in Lowden,” he says immediately. “I know all the brass up there.”

Bingo.“I was afraid of that. Because Captain Whitman submitted fifty-three affidavits for warrants to the Chime Co. system. And that’s just the tip of this iceberg. I’ll be there in ninety minutes.” Then he hangs up.

A sudden adrenaline spike propels him up the sidewalk, because a lot of things are about to happen really fast.

He needs to be ready.

38

ARIEL

We have a nice meal of tacos at Larri and Tara’s kitchen table, and I do a remarkable job of staying calm in front of Buzz. I drink one of Tara’s nonalcoholic beers and do my best to smile.

And it must be working. Buzz is shoveling chips into his mouth like it’s his job, while Larri hums along to Joni Mitchell.

When Buzz finally gets up from the table, I fill my friends in as quickly as I can, with a quick, whispered conversation.

“God, honey,” Tara says. “That’s terrifying.”

“Tell me about it,” I whisper back.

“What does Zain think?” Larri asks. “And where is he? I thought he was coming tonight.”

That is a very good question. “I texted him on the way over here, but I haven’t heard back.” And now I’m paranoid about that, too. “He’s going to freak out when he hears they got my laptop.”

Buzz materializes at my side. “Can I see Tara’s guitar?”

“Wash those hands,” I say, setting my fork down and preparing to supervise. “And only if she says it’s okay.”