Free Swan Dive by Kendel Lynn

month and day, day and year, month and year. Again, obvious. And I didn’t know that any more than I knew what year she was born. Not a very secure passcode choice for Lexie to make. All her friends and family would know her birthday, probably showed up on Facebook, too.
    Last four digits of her social? Favorite holiday? Parents’ birthday? Weirdly enough, I knew her mother’s birthday. Maybe ten years earlier, I met Lexie Allen for the first time at the Ballantyne Foundation’s Annual Kite Flying Brigade on Oyster Cove Beach to celebrate Independence Day. Lexie was shy and sweet and excited. She thought the celebration was for her mom’s birthday. She’d never been to a beach party, and like all Ballantyne events, we’d gone all out.
    I tried 0704. Jiggle.
    Lexie had to have had dozens of special moments and I only knew the one. But her mother later said Lexie talked about that day for months and she hung her kite in her bedroom. It stuck with me because I did the same thing. And mine, too, was decorated with the colors of the flag.
    I typed in 1776. An error message appeared: iPad disabled, try again in one minute.
    As I waited the minute, I wondered if perhaps I was overthinking it. When the time elapsed, I tried something simple: 1234. Another error message, this time informing me to try again in five minutes.
    With time on my hands, I Googled the most common four-digit passcodes. Over ten percent of the population chose 1234. Next on the list: 1111. A jiggle and it disabled. Now the iPad forced me to wait fifteen minutes. I wondered at what point I’d be locked out forever. I didn’t have to worry. Turned out Lexie used the fourth most popular passcode: 1212.
    And like that, I was in.
    Pretty much random luck, which happens now and again. I didn’t question it, though I did jump around the room as if I’d won the lottery. Quite satisfying to figure out someone’s passcode without their address book or a three-year stint in underground hacking. It somehow felt more clever? interesting? clandestine? knowing the iPad was passcode-protected and I broke it. As if I might actually find something valuable because it had been locked.
    Or not so much. As I tapped icons and apps, I barely found a sliver of insight into Lexie Allen. She liked cooking blogs, recipe sharing sites, and streaming a dozen different cooking competition tv shows. Not a lot of dance sites, other than to check the UNC, UNT, and Oklahoma City University dance schedules.
    She also visited Amazon about a thousand times. I think she may have been hooked on leaving reviews. Over seven hundred of them. Random products, books of all genres. Some very detailed and long reviews, others short and simple. I wondered if she actually bought any of the items. Maybe I needed to add shopping addict to her bio. Out of curiosity, I looked up how much an iPad cost and was shocked. Who would spend that kind of money for one of those things? Nothing more than a big phone that didn’t make calls. One could easily use a computer instead.
    I glanced at the clock and realized nearly two hours had passed. With a speed reserved for emergencies, or situations exactly like this one, I showered in less time than it takes most people to do their makeup. I was up, out, and on my way in under twenty minutes. Though slightly OCD (and by slightly, I mean I perform my get ready routine exactly the same, in the exact same order, every single time), I am a professional.
    It would be another day without riding my bike to work. My three-wheeler had a basket on back and a bell up front. It kept me stable and free and it reminded me to enjoy my island surroundings. But today involved a visit to the morgue, and there would be nothing to enjoy.
    I stopped by the Big House to sneak a box of cookies for Harry Fleet, the medical examiner. He was less growly if I brought treats. I took in the merry decorations of the entire foyer. A symphony of Christmas carols played in the background.