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“Bye, big brother. Take care.” She swept her hand out, gesturing to the strange yard, then started down the steps.
Hugo cleared his throat. “Is that a Tesla coil over there?”
Oscar nodded.
“Can we turn it on?” Hugo asked.
“Let’s go.” Lancelot grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him to turn or risk falling backwards down the porch steps.
Lancelot hustled Hugo back to the car, then hurried to open Sylvia’s door for her.
They all climbed in. Oscar stood on his porch, watching as they turned around and slowly drove out of the clearing where he had his odd mad-scientist compound.
Hugo leaned forward once more. “Your brother is a computer scientist?”
“He does a bit of everything. Hardware, software, tech development.” She held up the journal. “What’s important is that he was still running a search for Mrs. Rutherford.” She twisted in her seat to smile at Hugo. “You inspired me to make contact with her again. I’ll write her a letter.”
“You got her address from your brother?” Hugo asked.
“Not all of it. He was throwing that hissy fit—he’s always cranky when he’s sick. I think there’s some other command I have to put in to get an exact address. He showed me, but I never remember.”
Lancelot cleared his throat. “That sounds like quite a program he has. I’m sorry he wouldn’t let me take a peek at it. I wonder if he’s monitoring credit card purchases.” Lancelot was looking out the passenger window, his comments sounding more like a man thinking out loud than someone posing very direct questions.
Hugo was fairly certain if it were that simple, the Masters’ Admiralty would have found her.
“I don’t have a clue what his program is called, but I know it’s not credit cards. It’s something to do with going online and tracking behavior patterns like website visits. He says people have a routine to what they do online, and if you identify the routine, it can be like a fingerprint, so even if you change your email that pattern is still there.”
Hugo blinked. That sounded amazing and terrifying at the same time. Did he do the same thing every time he went online? Now that he thought about it, he did.
“Fookin’ A. Your brother is going to be a billionaire once he sells,” Lancelot breathed.
“I’m glad you didn’t tell him that. It would make him even more impossible to live with. Like I said, I’ll go back tomorrow and get the rest of the address.”
“The rest?” Hugo asked.
“Yes, the little map picture had her dot in Florida, but that’s certainly not enough to mail a letter.”
“Is that the one that looks like a dick?” Lancelot asked.
Sylvia tittered. “Florida is south of here. About three and half hours to the northern border.”
“Always so much driving in the States,” Hugo murmured.
Lancelot grinned back at him. “You haven’t driven anywhere yet.”
They were quiet as she navigated back onto the main road that would take them to the highway and the bridges they’d need to cross to get back to Charleston.
Lancelot shifted slightly in his seat, catching Hugo’s eye.
Hugo nodded once, and then cleared his throat. “Will you join us for dinner, Sylvia? We’d like to thank you for all your hospitality today.”
She smiled, and it was like the sun had come out from behind a cloud. “I’d like that.”
“So,” Lancelot said. “Where should we eat?”
Chapter Seven
Sylvia wasn’t sure what she’d done in a previous life to have two attractive men land on her front porch, but she assumed it had to be momentous. Like Mother Teresa momentous.
