Read Online Stork Raving Mad: A Meg Langslow Mystery (A Meg Lanslow Mystery) by Donna Andrews - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Donna Andrews
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closer,” I said. “Right now, though, I need something.”
“Your wish is my command,” he said. “What do you need?”
“A tame hacker.”
A small pause followed. I sipped my ginger ale as I waited for him.
“What for?” he asked. “Nothing illegal, I hope. Don’t you just mean a techie?”
“I want someone who’s absolutely expert at working with the college data systems,” I said. “You know Ramon? Grad student who’s been staying with us?”
“Of course,” he said. “The one directing the play. With the gorgeous girlfriend.”
“Gorgeous girlfriend?”
“Bronwyn Jones. She plays the prostitute with the heart of gold in the play. If she wasn’t spoken for . . .”
So that was her name. I’d already marked her down as a potential ally.
“Getting back to Ramon,” I said. “Some creeps from the collegemight be trying to pull a fast one and lose some forms that he needs to have filed for his dissertation.”
“Typical. Jerks.”
“So I want someone who can comb the college systems for useful information. Proof that Ramon’s forms were submitted, if such a thing exists. Or proof that the creeps are trying to pull a fast one. I’d prefer finding stuff that’s legitimately available, but don’t find me anyone with too many scruples. If we exhaust the legit sources . . .”
“Yeah, I get it,” he said. “If they’re sending e-mails to each other saying, ‘Okay, let’s sabotage this Soto kid and that will help us prevent that horrible Michael Waterston from getting tenure,’ you want to know about it. I think I know just the person, and he’s probably already there. Have you met Danny Oh? That’s O-H, last name, not a nickname.”
“Not that I know of—should I have?”
“He’s only been living in your basement for three weeks,” Rob said. “One of our student interns. Remember when I asked if I could have some of the interns live in the basement until the heat came back on in the dorms?”
“I’d forgotten, actually,” I said. “It’s been weeks since I went down into the basement.”
“Probably just as well,” he said. “It’s taken on a sort of frat-house ambiance. Nothing we can’t fix with a few trash bags, of course,” he added quickly. “But you might want to let me call Danny and have him come up to the ground floor.”
“Call him and brief him,” I said. “And tell him I’ll drop down to his lair to see him a little later. I need him at his computer,not doing the flamenco in the kitchen, and I may want to look over his shoulder.”
I also might want to take a look at the basement, to see if I thought getting it back to normal was going to take more than a few trash bags. I had visions of squalor that would take Dumpsters, fire hoses, and fumigation.
“Will do,” Rob said, and hung up.
The doorbell rang. Again. What now?
Chapter 7
I set down my ginger ale, waddled to the door, and opened it to find Abe Sass and Art Rudmann standing on the doorstep.
“Am I glad to see you two,” I said. “Come in.”
“Meg! You’re looking wonderful!” Abe exclaimed. He was tall, lean, and Lincolnesque.
“But a little pale,” Art added. “Don’t you think she looks a little pale? Are you eating enough?” He was short, plump, and always looked as if he’d misplaced something and couldn’t quite remember what.
“I’m fine and I’m eating more than enough to keep Gilbert and Sullivan happy,” I said. “Come in; you’re letting out all the warm air.”
“Where’s Michael?” Abe asked as they shed their coats and and hung them on one of the coatracks.
“In the kitchen with the students,” I said, gesturing.
“And Dr. Wright?”
“In the library.”
“We should probably have a short huddle with Michael before we tackle them,” Art said. “If Wright’s in the library, then I suppose Michael’s office is out. Perhaps we could go out to the barn and use your office.”
“Dr. Blanco’s out in my office,” I said.
“Your wish is my command,” he said. “What do you need?”
“A tame hacker.”
A small pause followed. I sipped my ginger ale as I waited for him.
“What for?” he asked. “Nothing illegal, I hope. Don’t you just mean a techie?”
“I want someone who’s absolutely expert at working with the college data systems,” I said. “You know Ramon? Grad student who’s been staying with us?”
“Of course,” he said. “The one directing the play. With the gorgeous girlfriend.”
“Gorgeous girlfriend?”
“Bronwyn Jones. She plays the prostitute with the heart of gold in the play. If she wasn’t spoken for . . .”
So that was her name. I’d already marked her down as a potential ally.
“Getting back to Ramon,” I said. “Some creeps from the collegemight be trying to pull a fast one and lose some forms that he needs to have filed for his dissertation.”
“Typical. Jerks.”
“So I want someone who can comb the college systems for useful information. Proof that Ramon’s forms were submitted, if such a thing exists. Or proof that the creeps are trying to pull a fast one. I’d prefer finding stuff that’s legitimately available, but don’t find me anyone with too many scruples. If we exhaust the legit sources . . .”
“Yeah, I get it,” he said. “If they’re sending e-mails to each other saying, ‘Okay, let’s sabotage this Soto kid and that will help us prevent that horrible Michael Waterston from getting tenure,’ you want to know about it. I think I know just the person, and he’s probably already there. Have you met Danny Oh? That’s O-H, last name, not a nickname.”
“Not that I know of—should I have?”
“He’s only been living in your basement for three weeks,” Rob said. “One of our student interns. Remember when I asked if I could have some of the interns live in the basement until the heat came back on in the dorms?”
“I’d forgotten, actually,” I said. “It’s been weeks since I went down into the basement.”
“Probably just as well,” he said. “It’s taken on a sort of frat-house ambiance. Nothing we can’t fix with a few trash bags, of course,” he added quickly. “But you might want to let me call Danny and have him come up to the ground floor.”
“Call him and brief him,” I said. “And tell him I’ll drop down to his lair to see him a little later. I need him at his computer,not doing the flamenco in the kitchen, and I may want to look over his shoulder.”
I also might want to take a look at the basement, to see if I thought getting it back to normal was going to take more than a few trash bags. I had visions of squalor that would take Dumpsters, fire hoses, and fumigation.
“Will do,” Rob said, and hung up.
The doorbell rang. Again. What now?
Chapter 7
I set down my ginger ale, waddled to the door, and opened it to find Abe Sass and Art Rudmann standing on the doorstep.
“Am I glad to see you two,” I said. “Come in.”
“Meg! You’re looking wonderful!” Abe exclaimed. He was tall, lean, and Lincolnesque.
“But a little pale,” Art added. “Don’t you think she looks a little pale? Are you eating enough?” He was short, plump, and always looked as if he’d misplaced something and couldn’t quite remember what.
“I’m fine and I’m eating more than enough to keep Gilbert and Sullivan happy,” I said. “Come in; you’re letting out all the warm air.”
“Where’s Michael?” Abe asked as they shed their coats and and hung them on one of the coatracks.
“In the kitchen with the students,” I said, gesturing.
“And Dr. Wright?”
“In the library.”
“We should probably have a short huddle with Michael before we tackle them,” Art said. “If Wright’s in the library, then I suppose Michael’s office is out. Perhaps we could go out to the barn and use your office.”
“Dr. Blanco’s out in my office,” I said.
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