Read Online Unauthorized Access by Andrew McAllister - Free Book Online
Authors: Andrew McAllister
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Christ’s sake. Of all the people to talk to when what we need is time to fix it before our customers panic. Whose side are you on anyway?”
“Like I said, I didn’t tell her.”
“Someone texted her with a tip,” Dysart said.
“It wasn’t me.”
“Who else would have contacted her but you?”
“How would I know? Everyone I work with knows her.”
Dysart shook his head in disgust. “I thought you had management potential, but obviously you don’t think the interests of the bank are important enough to protect.”
“But—”
“I suppose you told her about the merger, too.”
Rob hoped his hesitation wasn’t noticeable.
“No, of course not.”
He made a mental note to remind Lesley how important it was to keep that little secret.
“I’m going to have to think seriously about your role here at the bank.”
Rob could feel the fury and frustration building. How could this night just keep getting worse?
“This is crazy! I haven’t told anyone about the attacks.”
Dysart glared back at him.
“From now on you better keep your mouth shut.”
Dysart pulled open the office door and walked out.
Rob stood there for a few moments with his chest heaving and his head buzzing from the combination of exhaustion and adrenaline. He slammed his open hand against the solid wooden door and sent it crashing back against the doorstop.
C HAPTER S EVEN
ROB LET THE front door close behind him as he mounted the few stairs that took him from sidewalk level up into Champions Sports Bar. The place was packed with a dinnertime crowd. He stood for a few moments to let his tired, scratchy eyes adjust to the relative gloom, then he looked around for Lesley and Shayna. He wanted desperately to head home to bed, but Lesley’s news story was important to her and he wanted to help her celebrate.
Tall stools fronted the bar to his left. Framed photographs of sports notables covered the walls. A profusion of TVs hung near the ceiling, providing patrons with several channels worth of distractions at once.
Rob found Lesley and Shayna sitting at a square table in the middle section of the bar, next to a wall of Red Sox memorabilia.
“You made it,” Lesley said with a big smile on her face. “Our story should be on soon.”
Rob sat down and looked up at the TV that hung in a nearby corner. “How’d you get them to turn it to your station?” he said. “I’ve never seen anything but sports on the TVs here.”
Shayna pointed toward the bar. “I worked my magic on that studly bartender over there.”
Rob shot a look of astonishment at Lesley. “How could you do that?” he said. “Turn her loose on a poor, unsuspecting guy like that.”
“By the way,” Shayna said to Rob, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
Lesley looked down at the rock on her finger.
Rob smiled and said, “Thanks.”
“Does this mean I should give up waiting for you?” Shayna said.
“Hey, if Lesley ever dumps me, you’re absolutely the first in line.”
“Shh.” Lesley pointed up at the TV. “This is it.”
The three of them watched as news anchor Steve Hewitt kicked off the six o’clock news.
“We begin tonight with local news,” Hewitt said. “Customers of the First Malden Bank received a rude shock today when they found money apparently missing from their accounts. Bank officials are calling the incident a temporary computer problem. For exclusive coverage, we go downtown to Lesley McGrath.”
Lesley appeared on the screen, WNWB-TV microphone in hand. This was the intro footage they had shot outside the bank after interviewing Dysart. The timing had been tight, but they had managed to rush back to the station, get the editing underway and make the case for the story with their producer, Arthur Pearce.
“I’m standing outside the Tremont Street branch of the First Malden Bank,” Lesley’s TV image said, “where bank customers have quite a story to tell.”
Three different customers filled the screen in
“Like I said, I didn’t tell her.”
“Someone texted her with a tip,” Dysart said.
“It wasn’t me.”
“Who else would have contacted her but you?”
“How would I know? Everyone I work with knows her.”
Dysart shook his head in disgust. “I thought you had management potential, but obviously you don’t think the interests of the bank are important enough to protect.”
“But—”
“I suppose you told her about the merger, too.”
Rob hoped his hesitation wasn’t noticeable.
“No, of course not.”
He made a mental note to remind Lesley how important it was to keep that little secret.
“I’m going to have to think seriously about your role here at the bank.”
Rob could feel the fury and frustration building. How could this night just keep getting worse?
“This is crazy! I haven’t told anyone about the attacks.”
Dysart glared back at him.
“From now on you better keep your mouth shut.”
Dysart pulled open the office door and walked out.
Rob stood there for a few moments with his chest heaving and his head buzzing from the combination of exhaustion and adrenaline. He slammed his open hand against the solid wooden door and sent it crashing back against the doorstop.
C HAPTER S EVEN
ROB LET THE front door close behind him as he mounted the few stairs that took him from sidewalk level up into Champions Sports Bar. The place was packed with a dinnertime crowd. He stood for a few moments to let his tired, scratchy eyes adjust to the relative gloom, then he looked around for Lesley and Shayna. He wanted desperately to head home to bed, but Lesley’s news story was important to her and he wanted to help her celebrate.
Tall stools fronted the bar to his left. Framed photographs of sports notables covered the walls. A profusion of TVs hung near the ceiling, providing patrons with several channels worth of distractions at once.
Rob found Lesley and Shayna sitting at a square table in the middle section of the bar, next to a wall of Red Sox memorabilia.
“You made it,” Lesley said with a big smile on her face. “Our story should be on soon.”
Rob sat down and looked up at the TV that hung in a nearby corner. “How’d you get them to turn it to your station?” he said. “I’ve never seen anything but sports on the TVs here.”
Shayna pointed toward the bar. “I worked my magic on that studly bartender over there.”
Rob shot a look of astonishment at Lesley. “How could you do that?” he said. “Turn her loose on a poor, unsuspecting guy like that.”
“By the way,” Shayna said to Rob, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
Lesley looked down at the rock on her finger.
Rob smiled and said, “Thanks.”
“Does this mean I should give up waiting for you?” Shayna said.
“Hey, if Lesley ever dumps me, you’re absolutely the first in line.”
“Shh.” Lesley pointed up at the TV. “This is it.”
The three of them watched as news anchor Steve Hewitt kicked off the six o’clock news.
“We begin tonight with local news,” Hewitt said. “Customers of the First Malden Bank received a rude shock today when they found money apparently missing from their accounts. Bank officials are calling the incident a temporary computer problem. For exclusive coverage, we go downtown to Lesley McGrath.”
Lesley appeared on the screen, WNWB-TV microphone in hand. This was the intro footage they had shot outside the bank after interviewing Dysart. The timing had been tight, but they had managed to rush back to the station, get the editing underway and make the case for the story with their producer, Arthur Pearce.
“I’m standing outside the Tremont Street branch of the First Malden Bank,” Lesley’s TV image said, “where bank customers have quite a story to tell.”
Three different customers filled the screen in
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