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Authors: Brent Wolfingbarger
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reliable than the backup data?”
Spence adjusted his eyeglasses and paused, pondering the query, as everyone stared at him expectantly. “Although I don’t have any personal experience working with this software – since AIS refuses to let outsiders inspect it due to its so-called ‘trade secrets’ – it’s my understanding Cicero has specific safeguards in its code to ensure the software functioned properly on Election Day. According to the Cicero website, these machines are programmed to connect via satellite to the main AIS server every twenty minutes after the polls open for diagnostic testing. If a machine has any glitches, it is programmed to shut down, and voters are directed to use other machines until county officials can bring in a replacement.”
Dave stood with his arms crossed, completely focused on the young man’s explanation. “So if these machines kept working all day, they apparently weren’t malfunctioning.”
“Precisely. If the machines were working when the results were calculated on Election Night, any current memory card problems must have arisen after those results were printed.”
Seeing a chorus of nods around him, Dave put a hand on Spence’s shoulder. “Write down every theory you think their computer experts might use to argue the backup data would be more reliable than the results announced on Election Night. We’ll put our heads together and try to poke holes in their arguments as best we can.”
Spence nodded, grinning. Mack Palmer sighed loudly. “I can’t believe a presidential election might hinge on a bunch of computer geeks arguing over this kind of crap. I thought we couldn’t stoop any lower than arguing over how to interpret ‘hanging chads.’” He shook his head in disgust. “God help us all.”
CHAPTER 13
ST. MARYS, PLEASANTS COUNTY, WEST VIRGINIA
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 11:00 A.M.
Rikki leaned back in her black leather office chair, scanning Pleasants County’s pending criminal cases for the names of any past or current clients. Such conflicts of interest would require the appointment of a special prosecutor once she took office in January.
Noticing a familiar name, Rikki smirked and whipped out her yellow highlighter. “What did Phil Nutter get himself into this time?” she asked aloud.
“Worthless checks,” replied the silver-haired woman on the other side of her desk. Clad in a conservative-looking navy blue dress, the eyeglasses atop her nose were also chained around her neck by a beaded lanyard. “That, plus a fraudulent pretences charge, which should be listed on the next page.”
Rikki winced slightly and let out a soft whistle. Worthless check charges were misdemeanors, but obtaining money from someone under false pretences was a felony. “Sorry to hear that about Phil,” she said. “I’ll definitely need a special prosecutor for those cases. Thanks for pointing out that felony, Martha.”
The older woman smiled warmly. “You’re welcome, Rikki. Personally, I’m just relieved to know that the office will be in good hands soon. You know Joe just hasn’t been up to working lately, and the backlog is too much for me to handle on my own.”
Rikki’s full lips grew taut and she laid down the list of cases. “How’s Joe doing, anyway?”
Martha sighed. “Not good. The cancer has spread to his brain and the doctors don’t think he has much time left.”
“That’s too bad. Joe has treated me like gold ever since I was a little girl. He’s been a great prosecutor and an even better man.”
Martha smiled sadly. “He was happy you won. I’ve worked for him for twenty years and he always worried about what might happen to the office after he retired. He told me last week it brought him great comfort to know you’re the one who will succeed him.”
“Aww … That was so sweet of him to say. I just hope I don’t let him down.”
Martha patted Rikki’s hand. “You won’t, honey,” she said, a tone of certainty in her
Spence adjusted his eyeglasses and paused, pondering the query, as everyone stared at him expectantly. “Although I don’t have any personal experience working with this software – since AIS refuses to let outsiders inspect it due to its so-called ‘trade secrets’ – it’s my understanding Cicero has specific safeguards in its code to ensure the software functioned properly on Election Day. According to the Cicero website, these machines are programmed to connect via satellite to the main AIS server every twenty minutes after the polls open for diagnostic testing. If a machine has any glitches, it is programmed to shut down, and voters are directed to use other machines until county officials can bring in a replacement.”
Dave stood with his arms crossed, completely focused on the young man’s explanation. “So if these machines kept working all day, they apparently weren’t malfunctioning.”
“Precisely. If the machines were working when the results were calculated on Election Night, any current memory card problems must have arisen after those results were printed.”
Seeing a chorus of nods around him, Dave put a hand on Spence’s shoulder. “Write down every theory you think their computer experts might use to argue the backup data would be more reliable than the results announced on Election Night. We’ll put our heads together and try to poke holes in their arguments as best we can.”
Spence nodded, grinning. Mack Palmer sighed loudly. “I can’t believe a presidential election might hinge on a bunch of computer geeks arguing over this kind of crap. I thought we couldn’t stoop any lower than arguing over how to interpret ‘hanging chads.’” He shook his head in disgust. “God help us all.”
CHAPTER 13
ST. MARYS, PLEASANTS COUNTY, WEST VIRGINIA
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 11:00 A.M.
Rikki leaned back in her black leather office chair, scanning Pleasants County’s pending criminal cases for the names of any past or current clients. Such conflicts of interest would require the appointment of a special prosecutor once she took office in January.
Noticing a familiar name, Rikki smirked and whipped out her yellow highlighter. “What did Phil Nutter get himself into this time?” she asked aloud.
“Worthless checks,” replied the silver-haired woman on the other side of her desk. Clad in a conservative-looking navy blue dress, the eyeglasses atop her nose were also chained around her neck by a beaded lanyard. “That, plus a fraudulent pretences charge, which should be listed on the next page.”
Rikki winced slightly and let out a soft whistle. Worthless check charges were misdemeanors, but obtaining money from someone under false pretences was a felony. “Sorry to hear that about Phil,” she said. “I’ll definitely need a special prosecutor for those cases. Thanks for pointing out that felony, Martha.”
The older woman smiled warmly. “You’re welcome, Rikki. Personally, I’m just relieved to know that the office will be in good hands soon. You know Joe just hasn’t been up to working lately, and the backlog is too much for me to handle on my own.”
Rikki’s full lips grew taut and she laid down the list of cases. “How’s Joe doing, anyway?”
Martha sighed. “Not good. The cancer has spread to his brain and the doctors don’t think he has much time left.”
“That’s too bad. Joe has treated me like gold ever since I was a little girl. He’s been a great prosecutor and an even better man.”
Martha smiled sadly. “He was happy you won. I’ve worked for him for twenty years and he always worried about what might happen to the office after he retired. He told me last week it brought him great comfort to know you’re the one who will succeed him.”
“Aww … That was so sweet of him to say. I just hope I don’t let him down.”
Martha patted Rikki’s hand. “You won’t, honey,” she said, a tone of certainty in her
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