It’s not safe at your place?
I’ve already said too much… I logged out and deleted the messages, making sure to delete her account as well. Malorie would assume it was a glitch and reinstate the account the next time she logged on. Dom, however, would be intrigued and worried. Then in a day or two I would send him a text from a burner phone.
I glanced at my watch. It had taken the better part of the day getting and setting up the equipment I needed to catfish Dom and I was now an hour late for Lenny Watch. Grabbing my dark hoodie, I headed out to find her, trying to suppress the similarities that were starting to crop up between Dom and me.
“What the fuck are you doing, Lenny?” I muttered to myself. I’d been watching her for over a month now and her behavior kept getting more and more bizarre. That day she’d driven from Santa Barbara to Fresno, holing herself up inside some outpatient clinic.
At first I thought it was the only place her insurance covered, because insurance is shit like that. Then she went to a pharmacy in Santa Barbara, obliterating that theory.
I’d followed her practically every minute the past month. Back in Santa Barbara, she’d gone inside one building every single day. The building was nameless on the front, but after doing some digging, I’d discovered it was home to many businesses. At least thirty businesses shared the same roof. I had no idea what Lenny was doing there.
Once a week she went to a hospital. I was just as in the dark as to why she went there. Now this, driving to fucking Fresno for an outpatient clinic. My mind raced. Did she have some kind of cancer that required multiple doctors? Was she ill?
I gripped the steering wheel as I waited for her, mind running through various terrible scenarios. Cancer—how many different cancers are there now? Hepatitis—did Lenny ever use drugs intravenously? AIDS—see previous question. Just as I was thinking up even worse possibilities, my burner phone pinged. Dom had responded to the trap I’d planted.
What’s going on, Blondie? Dom asked.
Keeping my eyes on the building, I typed out my reply. A week ago people approached me and threatened me. They said if I didn’t give them the information they wanted they would kill me.
What information is that? Dom asked. A person walked out of the doors and I jumped slightly, but settled when I realized it wasn’t Lenny. Fuck. I’d been sitting in the car for almost an hour. Seriously, what the fuck was she doing in there?
I don’t even know! I typed. The more helpless I appeared, the more Dom would want to take advantage of me. I’m just a systems analyst. I tried to explain it to them but they threatened me.
I leaned against the leather of the stolen car as I waited for Dom to reply. It was hot as fuck outside, the sun high in the sky with no cloud coverage. The heat outside made the clinic building blur.
Try and explain to me what they wanted to know, Dom replied.
You are a fucking idiot, I thought in my head, but instead responded, They said they needed codes and numbers. I don’t know what that means. I told them I work in the marketing department but they wouldn’t listen. Everything inside GEM was accessed through a series of codes. Operations, files, birthdays, you name it—accessed through a code. Agents were given their own code, but were probably the lowest fucking totem on the pole. If you accessed something, you better have a damn good reason.
Even before my death, if I tried to access higher-level operations or files with my code, they’d be in that room before I even pressed send.
Enter the Fool, Dom Weathers.
What codes and numbers? Dom asked.
I don’t remember, I typed back, playing up my role as Malorie Grey, scared and unknowing system analyst.
Try. Just as Dom responded, Lenny exited the strange building. I turned on the ignition while Lenny’s fiery mane bobbed across the scorching asphalt. She had no bag except her purse, was wearing the same clothes from when she went inside. I was looking for anything that might tell me why she kept going inside that building, but nothing.
Lenny pulled out of the parking lot and I followed. It was fruitless at that point, as I knew she was going back to Grace’s. She’d followed through on her threat to Zoe. I had to imagine it was cramped in their one bedroom. Lenny had become routine, even in her mystery. I might not know what she was doing, but I knew where she was going. My phone pinged just as I followed her onto the freeway.
Blondie? I glared at Dom’s insistence, annoyed that I had to be Malorie Grey and not Vic Wall.
Budapest. Moore. Alice. I think…I think maybe Morris. When I’d quit GEM, Budapest and Morris were missions nearing fruition. Hopefully he wouldn’t think twice about the fact that Alice and Lenny’s names were in there. Sure, I had to do what Seven asked, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t kill two birds with one stone. I could simultaneously destroy GEM and find out if they were looking into Lenny at the same time.
Dom would log into his account, access classified information, and hand it over to pretty Malorie Grey, going against everything he’d been taught in the process. Then again, I think we’ve established Dom never really learned much.
Give me a few hours, Dom responded. I can get you those numbers. Fucking bingo.
How can I ever repay you? I asked, pulling to a stop a few houses back from Grace’s.
I’ll think of something, Dom sent back. Our correspondence ended, and I didn’t expect to hear from him again f
or days. I could practically picture the Cheshire grin he had on his face, though. If there was ever a way to get into Dom’s head, it was through the one in his pants.
Like I said, I thought it would take awhile. Days, to be specific. I knew Dom would get the numbers to me, but I expected him to take a few precautions. You know, at least try and mask the fact that he was stealing them.
Nope, like foolish fucking clockwork, the numbers came to my burner email just hours later. A few houses down, while I waited for Lenny to turn off her light, I cemented a plan that would keep her safe forever.