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His secretary sits at her computer, tapping away. She’s a new hire, only a few weeks on the job. I can only hope she doesn’t recognize me.
I step over to her desk. “Hello, you’re Edna Upton, correct?”
“Yes, why, may I ask, do you want to know?”
“Your car’s being towed. Right now, downstairs in the personnel parking lot.”
The woman snaps to her feet and beelines out the door muttering expletives. I wait a second longer ’til her feet pad down the hall, and then I rush into the DA’s private office. The lights are off and Polk’s chair is tucked into his desk.
I move over to his computer and quickly log on.
I’m no hacker by any means, but Stitches has created a monster—when we were trying to figure out how to get revenge on my father, he showed me how to retrieve the contents of most computer hard drives within seconds. I repeat what he taught me, downloading the thousands of files on Polk’s work computer.
There has to be something I can use.
Sasha said he had hundreds of files that could be incriminating.
How she knew this… I’m not sure.
I move about his office and strategically place a hidden camera for monitoring purposes. Since I don’t have access to his phone, I install my spy app onto his laptop. It’s not uncommon for city officials to take their laptops home on weekends.
My phone goes off from inside my purse. For the first few rings I ignore the chiming tone, until it grows gradually louder. Hoping to silence it, I fumble for it only to notice the name on the Caller ID.
“What do you want?” I hiss at Sasha.
“I have to talk to you,” she says, sounding on the verge of tears.
“Not now. It’s not a good time. I’ll call you later.”
“It’s about Polk.”
My fingers freeze on his keyboard. “What about him?”
“I had another bad dream.”
“Sasha, we’re not going to discuss your bad dreams right now.”
She sniffles. “I have to come clean.”
“About?”
“I haven’t been all the way honest with you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I snap through gritted teeth.
There’s no time for Sasha’s dramatics. Polk or his secretary could be back at any second. That’s without mentioning Medjine or Stitches might come looking for me if I take too long. I have to get out of here.
“Delphine,” she sighs. “I didn’t tell you the whole story. There’s a reason the DA’s office won’t help me.”
“Yes, I know. Your criminal record.”
She pauses, filling the silence with another sniffle. “That’s… I wasn’t talking about that…”
“Sasha, I’m hanging up—”
“Bernstein-didn’t-rape-me-Polk-did!”
She blurts it out all at once, in a sentence so fast it takes me a second longer to understand.
