way of filling up available space. Guinevere made a small production out of the seat belt ritual. By the time she was finished Zac was pulling out onto the street and heading up the steep hills toward the interstate on ramp.
Darkness had settled completely over the city, and the lights in the downtown high rises gleamed warmly through the persistent mist. The streets had emptied of the day crowd, and the first night denizens were beginning to make their appearances. The Buick's windshield wipers worked with stolid efficiency. A good night to be abroad with a frog, Guinevere decided wryly.
"What happens if we get caught, Zac?"
"We won't."
"How can you be sure?"
Zac checked over his shoulder before easing the Buick onto the interstate. "I wouldn't take you with me if I thought there was a chance we'd get caught."
"Thoughtful of you."
"I try. Relax, Gwen. The worst that can happen is Bender will walk in on us, and in that case I'm counting on you to explain the whole thing to him."
She whirled in the seat, staring at his profile. "Me! Are you crazy? You're taking me along to keep you out of trouble?"
"You're good at communicating with people," he pointed out.
She slumped in disgust. "I should have known. You're using me. That's what you've been doing from the beginning."
The line of his jaw tensed, but he kept his gaze on the traffic as he headed north. "I prefer to think of it as a case of your communication skills complementing my analytical talents."
"Bullshit."
He raised one eyebrow. "Is that an opinion or an assessment?"
"That's a sample of my communication skills."
Cal Bender's rented house was a small, aging structure of weathered wood set off by itself on an overgrown lot in the northeast section of the city. There was still a fair amount of vacant property this far away from the center of Seattle, and when she got a look at the rather decrepit structure, Guinevere assumed Cal must have gotten the place cheap.
"Typical hacker," she said with a faint sense of affection. "Puts his money into hardware, white socks, and junk food. Are you sure no one can see the Buick from the road?"
"I'm sure." Zac closed the car door. "Are you ready?"
"No."
"Good. Follow me."
"I've never believed in blind faith." She skipped a little to keep up with him as he headed around to the back of the house. Large, untrimmed bushes competed with weeds for control of the front yard of Cal's home. They also provided a lot of shadows. Guinevere tried to take advantage of the limited cover.
"What in hell are you doing?" Zac asked as he stopped and turned to look back at her impatiently.
"I'm trying to keep out of sight!"
"Watch where you step, you little idiot!" He reached out and yanked her off course. "Stay on the grass. You'll leave tracks if you get into that mud."
"Oh." Chagrined, Guinevere glanced down at the dark patch of ground she had been about to cross. In the dim night light it looked at first like a stretch of dry terrain.
Then she saw the film of moisture. "Look, Zac, this really isn't my forte. Maybe I should wait in the car."
"No. I want you with me."
"But I don't know what I'm doing! I'm going to be more of a handicap than a help."
"Hush, Gwen. Consider it part of my blackmail demands." He had reached the rear of the cottage. A torn screen door hung limply on its hinges and squeaked when Zac opened it.
"Now what?" Guinevere eyed the wooden door behind the screen. "Is this where you show me your fancy breaking and entering technique?"
"Yeah." He held out a hand. "Got a credit card?"
"Are you kidding? You're not going to use my credit card for illegal purposes!"
"Gwen, I haven't got one of my own. I told you I've just applied to the bank. You said you'd already gotten yours."
Irritated, Guinevere leaned forward and put her hand on the doorknob. "You know what? Cal is very forgetful about everything except his computer projects." She twisted the knob, and it turned readily in her hand. "Just the type to
Darkness had settled completely over the city, and the lights in the downtown high rises gleamed warmly through the persistent mist. The streets had emptied of the day crowd, and the first night denizens were beginning to make their appearances. The Buick's windshield wipers worked with stolid efficiency. A good night to be abroad with a frog, Guinevere decided wryly.
"What happens if we get caught, Zac?"
"We won't."
"How can you be sure?"
Zac checked over his shoulder before easing the Buick onto the interstate. "I wouldn't take you with me if I thought there was a chance we'd get caught."
"Thoughtful of you."
"I try. Relax, Gwen. The worst that can happen is Bender will walk in on us, and in that case I'm counting on you to explain the whole thing to him."
She whirled in the seat, staring at his profile. "Me! Are you crazy? You're taking me along to keep you out of trouble?"
"You're good at communicating with people," he pointed out.
She slumped in disgust. "I should have known. You're using me. That's what you've been doing from the beginning."
The line of his jaw tensed, but he kept his gaze on the traffic as he headed north. "I prefer to think of it as a case of your communication skills complementing my analytical talents."
"Bullshit."
He raised one eyebrow. "Is that an opinion or an assessment?"
"That's a sample of my communication skills."
Cal Bender's rented house was a small, aging structure of weathered wood set off by itself on an overgrown lot in the northeast section of the city. There was still a fair amount of vacant property this far away from the center of Seattle, and when she got a look at the rather decrepit structure, Guinevere assumed Cal must have gotten the place cheap.
"Typical hacker," she said with a faint sense of affection. "Puts his money into hardware, white socks, and junk food. Are you sure no one can see the Buick from the road?"
"I'm sure." Zac closed the car door. "Are you ready?"
"No."
"Good. Follow me."
"I've never believed in blind faith." She skipped a little to keep up with him as he headed around to the back of the house. Large, untrimmed bushes competed with weeds for control of the front yard of Cal's home. They also provided a lot of shadows. Guinevere tried to take advantage of the limited cover.
"What in hell are you doing?" Zac asked as he stopped and turned to look back at her impatiently.
"I'm trying to keep out of sight!"
"Watch where you step, you little idiot!" He reached out and yanked her off course. "Stay on the grass. You'll leave tracks if you get into that mud."
"Oh." Chagrined, Guinevere glanced down at the dark patch of ground she had been about to cross. In the dim night light it looked at first like a stretch of dry terrain.
Then she saw the film of moisture. "Look, Zac, this really isn't my forte. Maybe I should wait in the car."
"No. I want you with me."
"But I don't know what I'm doing! I'm going to be more of a handicap than a help."
"Hush, Gwen. Consider it part of my blackmail demands." He had reached the rear of the cottage. A torn screen door hung limply on its hinges and squeaked when Zac opened it.
"Now what?" Guinevere eyed the wooden door behind the screen. "Is this where you show me your fancy breaking and entering technique?"
"Yeah." He held out a hand. "Got a credit card?"
"Are you kidding? You're not going to use my credit card for illegal purposes!"
"Gwen, I haven't got one of my own. I told you I've just applied to the bank. You said you'd already gotten yours."
Irritated, Guinevere leaned forward and put her hand on the doorknob. "You know what? Cal is very forgetful about everything except his computer projects." She twisted the knob, and it turned readily in her hand. "Just the type to
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