The room was silent for a second, then Savannah burst into laughter. “You—you Rickrolled Hornbrook?”
Hez guffawed at the thought of James Hornbrook falling for a juvenile old internet prank, and even Augusta chuckled. Then the implication of Bruno’s words hit Hez. “Let me make sure I have this right: It’ll take at least forty-eight hours for Hornbrook and company to hack through your security, but you can switch the files and move the key almost instantly. So we can stay a step ahead of them indefinitely.”
“Bingo! And they can’t kill us because they need us to check in every twenty-four hours.”
Hez tugged his lower lip. “What about that email database? What happens if they find that?”
Bruno scoffed. “There are multiple encrypted mirror copies on the dark web—which any decent hacker will know.”
Hez wished he shared Bruno’s confidence. “That’s great, man. It sounds like the techno side of this is tied up with a bow, but there are other ways to get to people.”
“I’m not a meat-space expert,” Bruno admitted. “I deal with virtual stuff.”
Savannah turned toward Hez. “Did James Hornbrook strike you as the kind of guy who’ll just give up after this?”
Hez remembered the hatred in Hornbrook’s glacial blue eyes when he realized Hez had beaten him. “No. No, he didn’t. I hate to say it, but I’m pretty sure this was just his first move.”
She fingered the beads on her bracelet. “What do you think he’ll do?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to start carrying my gun. I can’t let anything happen to you or Simon.”
“I have bear spray somewhere. I’ll find it and stick it in my purse.”
“Good plan,” Augusta said. “And I’ll have a car drive by as often as possible.”
An occasional police car cruising the neighborhood wouldn’t be enough to protect his family. Hez went to get his gun from the safe in his bedroom.
Chapter 5
Hez paused as he passed Jess’s old office. The brass nameplate beside the door still saidJessica Legare, Chief Financial Officer, but the office was empty. Or almost empty. Her presence still haunted the room in small ways—the faint indentations on the floor where her stylish office furniture once stood, the little scratches on the walls where her TGU and NYU diplomas hung, and so on. The invisible marks Jess left on Tupelo Grove University went much deeper, of course.
Hez took a deep breath and blew it out. Jess’s legacy was complex, to say the least. She had tried to destroy TGU financially, but her plan ended with the university flush with cash and debt-free for the first time in generations. She did her best to undermine Hez’s relationship with Savannah, but she wound up strengthening it. She hid Simon’s very existence from Savannah and Hez, and now they were about to become the boy’s parents. Or at least that’s what they hoped.
Erik Andersen’s lawyer had called Hez the same day she filed her appearance and objection in the adoption case. She had requested a meeting and volunteered to come to TGU. Hez checked his watch—she’d be here in five minutes.
Hez walked down the hall to his office. He gave the room a quick scan. Nothing confidential on his desk or monitor. The remnants of his to-go breakfast sandwich from the university cafeteria went in the trash. So did the used pod from the little Keurig machine on his credenza.
He adjusted the pictures on his computer stand. Both were unposed snapshots from the engagement party last month. One caught Savannah on the verge of a laugh, her green eyes sparkling in the early evening sun, which brought out the gold highlights in her auburn hair. The other photo showed Savannah, Hez, and Simon walking barefoot along the sand after the party, the reds and oranges of the sunset glowing on the water behind them. An excited grin split Simon’s face from ear to ear as he showed them a shell he had just found. That day had felt like a new beginning for all three of them. Had it really been an ending, at least as far as Simon was concerned?
The receptionist called to let him know Andersen’s lawyer had arrived, and Hez walked out to get her. He had never practiced family law, but he’d met Nita Hendrix at several bar functions over the years. She’d always been friendly, but he’d heard opponents call her “Nita the Knife”—usually right after she’d slashed them.
She smiled as she rose to greet him. She was around sixty, with warm brown eyes and a round face framed by salt-and-pepper curls. A pink blouse, navy slacks of some stretchy material, and sensible shoes completed her outfit. She appeared more like a beloved kindergarten teacher than a knife fighter, which was one reason she was so effective in court.
“How are you doing, Hez?” she asked as they entered hisoffice. “I saw that news story about you and Simon almost drowning the other day. Are you both okay?”
“We’re both fully recovered, thanks.” He walked around the desk. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Decaf with creamer would be wonderful. You must have been terrified.”
“I didn’t really have time to be scared.” Hez popped a decaf pod into the coffee maker and slid a fresh mug under the spout. “I was too focused on saving Simon.”
Her gaze rested on the pictures behind Hez. “You love your nephew, don’t you?”
Hez didn’t hesitate. “Very much.”
“He seems like a special boy. Erik is very much anticipating getting to know his son.”
The Keurig hissed as it spat the last drops of coffee into her mug. Hez handed it to her along with the little box of creamers he kept in the drawer under the coffee maker. “They already know each other, or did Erik forget to mention that?”
