Free Unauthorized Access by Andrew McAllister Page B

walls. Everything from contemporary fiction to classic works on world history filled the shelves.
    He took off his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t focus on the numbers showing quarterly loan and mortgage volumes in the branches, not with what he had on his mind. He wanted desperately for Kelleher to phone and tell him the account records were unscrambled and the crisis was over.
    A soft knock sounded on the closed office door.
    “Come,” Dysart said.
    The door opened and Lesley poked her head in.
    “Aunt Sheila said you were in here,” she said. “Got a few minutes for me?”
    Dysart turned the document face down and motioned her in.
    “Might as well,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not getting anywhere with this report anyway.”
    Lesley closed the door behind her and sat in the reading chair in front of the desk. She clutched her purse with both hands, perching it on her knees.
    “Any progress on getting your computer fixed?” she asked.
    “We’re still working on it.”
    “Okay. So … you’re making progress, then?”
    Dysart raised one eyebrow. “Is this an official visit?”
    “Basically, yeah.”
    “So what’s on your mind?”
    “Ever hear of the Financial Patriots of America?”
    Dysart’s blood pressure skyrocketed. The tiniest of flinches crossed his face, but he did his best to not show any reaction.
    “Who are they?” he said.
    Lesley gave a half nod as if she expected this answer. “According to the information our station received, they’re the ones who sabotaged your computers.”
    This time Dysart allowed his annoyance to show on his face. “You mean some crackpots saw the interview we did and now they want their fifteen minutes of fame.”
    Lesley studied him for a few seconds. He met her gaze levelly and waited for her to make the next move.
    “So there’s no truth in it?” she said.
    Dysart pressed his lips together in exasperation. “Do you have any idea how much damage this sort of thing could do to the bank? If our customers thought our systems weren’t secure against hackers, they certainly wouldn’t want to keep their money with us. Tell me your station isn’t going to mention this malarkey on the air.”
    “That’s why I’m here,” she said, “to verify the facts before we decide how to handle it.”
    “Well you can tell your people there’s no truth to it whatsoever,” Dysart said, giving her a stern look, “and if they breathe one word of this on the air they’ll be risking a hefty law suit.”
    He expected that to end the conversation. Instead, Lesley remained in her chair and gave him a contemplative look.
    “Just to clarify, then,” she said, “you didn’t receive an email from this patriot group at six o’clock last night?”
    How much does she know? Dysart thought. Did Rob open his big mouth again?
    “Haven’t you been listening?” he said.
    “So that’s a no?”
    “Of course.”
    “Because that would be the better part of a whole day before people’s money went missing.”
    Dysart bristled. “Are you trying to say we endangered our customer’s money?”
    “You tell me.”
    “That’s ridiculous. Why would we do that?”
    “I have no idea. According to the copy of the email we received, these patriot people seem intent on delivering a message that banks don’t care.”
    “What did I tell you? This bunch obviously wants to sling mud at the bank for some reason I can’t possibly fathom. Surely you’ll help me out and keep this quiet, won’t you?”
    “Of course I’ll help you.”
    Something loosened in Dysart’s chest. He seemed to breathe a little easier.
    “I’m just not sure how to do that,” Lesley said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “A cover-up could backfire on you.”
    Dysart’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m lying?”
    “You don’t want customers thinking you neglected to inform them when their money was at risk.”
    “No one’s money is at risk.”
    “The people I