Free A Bodyguard to Remember by Alison Bruce Page B

broached the subject again.
    “You know, I can work anywhere, as long as I have coffee and a plug for my laptop. So, if you need to go to class or the library or whatever, I’m pretty flexible.”
    Nate shrugged sheepishly.
    “Actually, I was hoping you might feel that way, so I asked my professors if you could sit in on the classes. I told them you were doing research. They’re good with it. The only one that’s a problem is Chemistry Lab. It’s three hours on Wednesday afternoons.”
    “I can stay home Wednesday afternoons,” I said. “For that matter I don’t have to be out every day—I just don’t want to be cooped up all the time.”
    “I trust you two to find a workable balance,” Merrick interjected. “I moved you here so you could have more freedom as well as be safer.” He turned to his son. “Just take reasonable precautions. I don’t want anything happening to either of you.”
    We were parked at a supermarket. Our next mission was grocery shopping. Merrick left us with Nate for that, pleading other errands to accomplish. He dropped us off and told us to get a taxi home. When we got back to the condo, we discovered what he had been doing. On the desk in the kids’ room was a new computer. Merrick followed the kids in and addressed them.
    “You have limited access to the Internet and Zeke has arranged special email accounts so you can write to your family and friends. Limited means you can visit the same sites you’d be allowed to go to at school. You can receive mail, but only your mother can send outgoing messages. No chat or instant messaging, okay?” He turned to me. “Their computer is programmed to upload outgoing mail to your computer via the wireless router. Make sure that they don’t give away where you are.”
    I nodded.
    “Sarge! What’s this?” Boone held up a small box with a bow. Hope was turning over an identical box in her hand.
    “It looks like a birthday present,” Merrick said, as if he wasn’t sure. “Perhaps you should open it.”
    Boone didn’t have to be told twice.
    “Mom look!”
    Once I got him to stop waving it around, I saw he was holding a cell phone.
    “Their own phones?” I queried, looking over at Merrick.
    “Not exactly,” Merrick said. “Those are cellular radios. They can call you, they can call Nate, and they can call 9-1-1. That’s it. Of course, you and Nate can call them and they can call each other. Oh, and the device is also an MP3 player.”
    “Cool!” Boone exclaimed.
    “I can’t call my friends?” asked Hope. “How about texting?”
    “Not from that phone, or anywhere else either,” Merrick told her. “You have to rely on email.”
    I took a closer look and saw there was no number pad on the device, only a menu and cursor keys. I handed it back to Boone.
    “It really is very cool.”
    I was a bit envious. As if he read my mind, Merrick pressed something into my hand.
    “I didn’t forget you, Hartley,” Merrick said, handing me a device about the size of a playing card and the thickness of about one suit in the deck. “It has all the usual bells and whistles, unlimited roaming and is shielded and encrypted.”
    He pointed to the authentication label on the back, then flipped it over again. “It has a couple of hot keys, one for me and one for Nate. Zeke transferred your directory from your old phone. I’ve added the numbers for the kids. Your number is blocked, and I would prefer that you don’t give it out. The phone here has an answering service. All calls will go through the service first. That way you don’t have to deal with my messages. I’ve asked the service to page you on the cell if the call is for you. You can make outgoing calls to your closest family and friends. Just use discretion. The more you call, the more likely you’ll compromise your safety.”
    “How about calling you?”
    “Zeke or I will be checking in every day,” he said.
    I pulled out the disposable cell he had programmed and given me