Free Desperate Measures by Kate Wilhelm

be too suspicious if you bought a new computer at this time,” she said then to Dr. Minick. “Do you have a laptop?” He said no.
    â€œHave you considered getting one? You could copy files to it, then hand your old computer over to Alex. What would you put on it for them to find, Alex?”
    He shrugged. “Not much, I guess. I can install the drawing programs and play around with them. Nothing too suspicious in that.”
    â€œDo you have any games on your computer?” Shelley asked. It was the first time she had uttered a sound during the past two hours. She had made notes of everything and kept her head lowered, her gaze fastened on her notebook.
    â€œNo games,” Alex said.
    â€œI could give you some,” Shelley said. “I have quite a few, and they are real memory hogs. You could pick up a game where I left off and save it under your own name, and it will look as if you’ve been playing off and on for months and months.” She said this swiftly, glanced at him, then back at her notebook. She was blushing; the tip of her nose glowed pink.
    Dr. Minick chuckled. “That’s good,” he said. “Let them think we use the same computer. That’s why I want a new one. His blasted games are crowding me out. Good.”
    Barbara stood up. “That’s enough for now. Keep in touch. Let me know about the computer.”
    â€œI’ll get my computer,” Alex said. Then he asked, “Shelley, you want to see my studio?”
    She followed him into his studio; her blush had drained away, leaving her very pale.
    Barbara realized that Dr. Minick was watching them as closely as she was. Briskly she said, “It’s not unheard of for phones to be tapped during an investigation. You know that, don’t you?”
    He nodded absently, then said, “Yes, I thought of that. We’ll be careful.”
    Alex came out carrying his computer, blue as a blueberry, and they all went out to the Porsche, where he stashed the computer; they shook hands all around, and Shelley started to drive.
    â€œBarbara,” she said, “I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry—”
    â€œLater,” Barbara said. She was half turned, watching out the rear window. As soon as the house was out of sight behind trees, she said, “Go another few feet and stop. I have a sudden hankering for a walk in the woods.”
    When Shelley pulled to a stop, they both got out of the car and Barbara surveyed the woods. Dense, deeply shaded beneath the canopy with little understory in such dark shadows. Someone, Alex, she suspected, had kept the brambles cut down along the driveway. From here neither the house nor the road was visible. She started to walk toward Gus Marchand’s property with Shelley following.
    A few minutes later they came to the dirt track where the girl Rachel and her friend had parked, and then they reached the edge of the woods. Barbara looked at her watch, three and a half minutes. Before them lay the broad expanse of mown grass, and the Marchand house.
    â€œHilde Franz,” Shelley whispered. “She could have done it.” There were several cars in the Marchand driveway and as they watched, more cars drove in slowly. Barbara remembered reading that the funeral was today; they were coming now for the wake.
    â€œLet’s beat it,” she said.
    6
    They drove on Old Opal Creek Road past the waterfall with a trickle of water sparkling in the sunshine, and the place where Leona’s car had gone into the creek. A small white cross surrounded by flowers marked the spot. The road was steep here, the curves very sharp, without guardrails; mammoth boulders were spaced along the shoulder instead. Shelley crossed the old bridge and drove past the school.
    They stopped at The Station. When they entered, a cluster of people at a table fell silent and didn’t make a sound while they were there. The place looked like a hundred others that