Southern Comfort (Southern 2)

When we walk in, Derek looks up, and he takes off his headset that he’s wearing, and the room is darker than it was yesterday. “Turn on the light,” Derek says to Casey, and the lights come on lightly.

Casey walks over to the side and grabs a chair and rolls it to me. “Sit,” he orders. I sit down, and I just look at him and then at Derek.

“One of you is going to have to tell me what in the sam hill is going on right now,” I say, and Derek looks at Casey and he just nods his head, but he holds his hand up, getting in front of me and squatting down.

“I want you to know that nothing is going to happen to you,” he says, kissing my hands in his. The tears come to my eyes before I can even fight them off.

“Casey,” I say his name, and he hangs his head in defeat.

“Derek,” he says, “you can start.”

“Okay,” Derek says, and I look down at Casey who doesn’t move from in front of me, nor does he let my hands go. “I will go step by step.”

“That works.” I take one hand away from Casey and wipe my cheek.

“This is your cell phone,” Derek says, and one of the television screens shows me my telephone screen. The background of the Eiffel Tower fills the screen with my applications all around it.

“As you can see you have your basic applications,” he says. “Your photos, settings, maps, camera, Instagram, and Facebook.” He gets up from his chair and walks over to the screen. “Looks normal, right?”

“Yes,” I say, not understanding why my phone is such a big deal.

“But then you have this little folder here,” he says, pointing at one that is written NEWS under it.

“I put all the news under one,” I say, and he looks over at me.

“TMZ and People is not news,” Derek says, and I just roll my eyes. “But anyway, there was another application in there that was marked INTL.” He shows me, and I look at it and I just shrug.

“I don’t know what that is,” I say. “I mean, I saw it, but I never opened it. I assumed it came with the phone.”

“It didn’t,” Derek says and clicks on the app, and you can see the cursor blink. “Look at this. I’m going to text you,” he says, taking his phone and texting me. The text comes through, but it also registers in the INTL. “This is how he tracked you and everything that you typed. He also had your locations on it.”

“What a douche,” I say and then look at Casey. “This isn’t as bad as I thought.”

“There is more,” Derek says. “So not only was he tracking you,” he says, ”but I think he buried something either on your phone or on your iPad or on your computer.”

“I don’t have an iPad,” I tell them. “My computer.” Looking at both of them. “There is nothing on my computer. I only use it for work.”

“Did you ever have it around Dominic?” Derek asks, and I nod. “Where is the computer now?”

“At the hotel,” I tell them, and then I look at Casey.

“I’m going to have someone go there right now and get it,” Casey says, and Derek nods, taking out his phone and texting someone and then putting his phone away.

“Okay, so now that we have one part settled,” Derek says. “Or at least we can checkbox one, it might be the reason everyone is so determined to get to you.”

“Who is trying to get to me?” I ask him and then answer for him. “Is it Dominic? I mean, how can he? He’s locked up.”

“Yes, but his associates aren’t,” Derek points out. “He’s in jail, but whoever he is working with isn’t.”

“Okay, this is going above and beyond,” I say, getting angry now. “I don’t know anything about his associates. I don’t know who he worked for, and I don’t know who worked for him. I know nothing.”

“But they don’t know that,” Casey says. “For all they know, you know everything, and you are hiding it for him.”

“Well, who are these people? I could maybe call them and tell them that I know nothing.” I start to get angry. “I mean, do I take out a billboard in Times Square? Do I grant CNN an interview? What the hell can I do?”

“There was a couple of visitors that Dominic got a couple of weeks ago,” Derek starts to say. “I got a copy of their conversation, and it’s all in code.” My eyebrows go together. “They talked about the sun in India and then the water in Bora Bora.”

“Again. No idea,” I say, and he looks down and then up at me, and just from his look, I know that shit is going to get worse.