Free Helen Hanson - Dark Pool by Helen Hanson Page A

Group. The first link was to the corporate website. They were some kind of tech firm out of Scotts Valley. A ubiquitous description in these parts. Ho-hum sort of stuff at best.
    The next link was from a local news blog. Kurt skimmed the piece. Brian Carter, an IT guy from The Rockstag Group was knifed in a parking lot in Half Moon Bay. He died. Mildly interesting if tragic.
    Whoa, what was this? He read the rest of the article.
     
    While the investigation is pending, the police did not hold Martin Fender, who suffers from Alzheimer’s, nor did they file any charges against him. Martin Fender’s minor son was recently released from prison where he served six months for a felony hacking conviction for compromising the computer systems of The Rockstag Group. Throughout the trial, the younger Fender maintained that he was hired by an unknown person from within The Rockstag Group to attempt to penetrate the company computer systems as a test of in-house security. The Rockstag Group vigorously denied this assertion during Fender’s trial.
     
    Weird. It had nothing to do with the O’Mara case, but still, that was weird.

 
     
Chapter Twelve
     
     
Maggie’s cobalt blue eyes crumpled into a squint. “Strange phone call. Someone calling for Dad.” She shook her head. “Probably a sales pitch.”
     
    “Some dude called for him yesterday, too.”
    “Who?”
    “Wouldn’t say. Hung up after I asked.” He spun on a heel. “So what do you think about me going to school at home?”
    “You’re serious.”
    Travis exhaled. He thought the idea would’ve been met with some enthusiasm. “Well, yeah. I can study what I need to and help you with Dad.” As a sophomore, he was at the top of his class in most subjects. He could learn more at home without all the distractions that came with his felony record. The plan was practically perfect. Why didn’t she see that?
    “Trav. I don’t have a flippin’ idea how to go about home schooling you.” She raked back her hair. “And at the moment, I don’t even have a job.”
    “What happened?”
    Her gaze skittered around the room. “I socked Peter in the nose.”
    Travis tried to suppress it. Knew it might tick her off for good. But he just couldn’t hold back that first smile. “Did he cry?” His diaphragm jumped.
    The lines in her face softened as she watched him. Air burst from her lips. “I may have broken his nose.” Her hands covered her face as if she were trying to warm it with her own hot breath. She bent at the waist, hair swinging near the floor.
    He grabbed the counter for support. “Maggie made Peter cry!”
    She swiped at his knee, but he bobbed away from her before she fell to the floor. “You butt head.”
    “Hey, I’m just a felony hacker.” He tousled her hair. She hated when he did that. “You’re the one who goes around beating up dweebs.”
    “What dweeb did you beat up?”
    They both looked toward the front hallway. Ginger stood there with a grocery bag in each hand. The concern on her face not entirely genuine. “You left the door unlocked.”
    Maggie blinked hard. “Peter from work.”
    Ginger’s expression morphed into unfiltered admiration. “Good. It’s about time you fixed that little prig.” She tottered into the room. “Is that why you’re home?”
    Travis extended his sister a hand.
    “Fired.” She clasped it and climbed up from the floor. “And totally without prospects.”
    He went to Ginger’s side and took the bags. They smelled of corned beef.
    “Then I’m glad I brought palusami . Who’s hungry?”
    At five-foot zip and about one-sixty, Ginger was small and sturdy. She administered food as a medicine, but fortunately, nothing she ever cooked tasted like it.
    “Mmm. Ginger. You’re awesome.” He set the bags on the counter.
    “You’ve had enough prison food.” She eyed Maggie. “And your sister’s talents lay elsewhere.”
    Maggie got some plates. “If only we could figure out where that was