Free Undercover Genius by Patricia Rice Page B

little
money, I’d resolved to take the classes I’d always wanted. My watch confirmed I
had ten minutes to spare.
    I called the Intrepid News website again. This time, I got a
harried female.
    I adopted the alter ego I used on my fake business cards.
“Hello, I’m Linda Lane, a friend of Bill Bloom’s. I’m trying to finish up some
of his cases after his tragic death yesterday.” I paused, hoping for a lead to
follow from the person on the other end.
    “Bill?” the voice asked in shock, apparently not having heard
the voice mail I’d left earlier. “Bill’s dead?”
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break the news to you. To whom
am I speaking?”
    “Sorry, this is Carla. Bill and I go way back. We worked
together on some projects in college and keep in touch. How did he die?”
    “A hit and run accident on Dupont last night. The cops
suspect a drunken driver.”
    A telling silence followed. I waited.
    “You worked with Bill?” she finally asked, sounding wary.
    “Yes, and he was on a fascinating new case, which is what
makes this more tragic. He could have put his name in headlines.” I dragged out
the bluff, hoping she’d take the hook.
    “He said something about working on a death threat,” she
said even more carefully. “I sent him some audio clips. I keep a file of
asinine things politicians say.”
    “That’s what I needed to ask you,” I said sympathetically,
hiding my eagerness. “Bill filed those clips under their names, but I have no
idea which names in all this mess are the ones you sent. Do you have a list?”
That was such a blatant stupidity I feared she wouldn’t fall for it, but it was
the best I could invent on the spur of the moment.
    “I just sent copies…” Her voice trailed off as she
apparently hunted through her computer. “Here’s the email. Don’t you have a
copy of it?”
    Stupidity number one and she’d caught it already. “I don’t
have his email password, just his networked files.” Damn, but I was getting
creative.
    “Oh, of course. I can’t believe he’s gone, a human life,
poof, just like that. You don’t think . . . that his death had
anything to do with these files?”
    “Who would know he had them besides you?” I asked blithely.
“And yes, it’s quite frightening to recognize our mortality. Makes me want to
live every minute as if it’s my last.” I’d lived like that most of my life, but
my version meant avoiding the dangers of living. “You could just forward the
email to me, if that’s easier,” I suggested.
    “Okay, I guess,” she said dubiously. “Are you finishing up
all his cases?”
    I gave her my Linda email address. “I hate for his clients
to think he left his office in this state. I’m just doing what I can. I don’t
know what else to do. It’s not as if he cares about the help from where he is.”
    “Do you know his mother? I’m sure she appreciates what
you’re doing,” Carla said. “I guess I better send a sympathy card.”
    “We were just computer colleagues. I never had the pleasure.
But that’s a thought. I’ll send a card, too. Anyone else I should send a card
to?” I was just fishing for information. I could see her email with the
attachments in my box already.
    “He has a brother and sister, but I don’t think they were
real close. Bill was a lot more open-minded, and they’re… kind of
midwestern-minded,” she finished lamely, probably realizing she didn’t know my
level of open-mindedness.
    “Righteous and Proud people?” I said cheerfully.
    “White and Proud, more like it,” she said bitterly. “My
mother’s Hispanic and I wasn’t allowed at his family’s table.”
    Crikey. That wasn’t proud, that was stupid, but I only had a
few more minutes before class, so I wasn’t getting into human behavior. “It
takes all kinds, I guess. Thanks for the information!”
    I wanted to dive into the audio files but I satisfied myself
with opening the attachments and reading labels while I