Chapter 4 - The Sister Who Hated MeTraining takes over before fear has time to introduce itself.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the alternative was admitting he was frightened.
“That’s impossible.”
The investigator, Sergeant First Class Nolan Price, looked at him without expression.
“Sir, I’m going to need everyone to remain where they are.”
“This is my house.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can’t just accuse me of—”
“Dad,” I said, “nobody accused you.”
He turned toward me.
The anger in his eyes was familiar.
I had seen it when I enlisted.
When I declined law school.
When I missed Tiffany’s engagement party because I had been overseas.
When Grandma died and my flight arrived twelve hours after the funeral.
He had always interpreted absence as rejection.
Tonight, he interpreted suspicion the same way.
“You just said it came from my study.”
“I said the network address resolves here.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means somebody used this internet connection.”
Tiffany immediately stepped backward.
“Well, it wasn’t me.”
I looked at her.
Too fast.
Too defensive.
She noticed.
“Oh my God. You think I did it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You looked at me.”
“You live here?”
“Sometimes.”
“How often?”
“What difference does that make?”
General Hale intervened.
“A great deal.”
Tiffany’s face reddened.
“I stay here when Greg travels.”
“Who is Greg?” Price asked.
“My fiancé.”
“What does he do?”
She folded her arms.
“He works in aerospace consulting.”
My attention snapped toward her.
“What company?”
She rolled her eyes.
“You know what company.”
“No. I know he used to work for Northland Dynamics.”
“He still does.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
The words came out sharper than I intended.
Tiffany blinked.
“What are you talking about?”
“Northland terminated its advanced systems consulting division fourteen months ago.”
“How would you know?”
Because Nightglass had reviewed contractors with access to several affected networks.
Because Northland was on the list.
Because Greg Palmer’s name had appeared in a secondary audit.
I could not say that.
So I said, “It was public.”
Tiffany pulled out her phone.
“Greg told me he got promoted.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“To what?”
“Senior director.”
“Of which division?”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Mom sat down.
“This is ridiculous.”
No one answered her.
Price and another investigator moved toward Dad’s study.
I followed.
General Hale stopped me with one hand.
“You’re too close to this.”
“With respect, sir—”
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
I hated when he was right.
I stayed in the hall.
Dad’s study had changed since I was a teenager.
The old oak desk remained.
So did his shelves of engineering books.
But now there was a large monitor, printer, wireless router, smart-home hub, and half a dozen devices Tiffany had probably convinced him to buy.
Price photographed everything before touching it.
Then he crouched beside the router.
“Who installed this?”
Dad shrugged.
“Greg.”
I looked at Tiffany.
She was staring at the floor.
“When?”
“Maybe six months ago.”
“Why?”
Dad sounded irritated.
“Because the old system was slow.”
Price looked up.
“Captain?”
I knew from his tone that he wanted me to see something.
Hale reluctantly nodded.
I entered the room.
Price pointed to the back of the router.
A tiny black module had been attached between the power supply and network line.
Consumer devices did not come with modules like that.
I leaned closer without touching it.
“Passive bridge?”
“Looks like one.”
Hale stood behind us.
“Purpose?”
“It could capture traffic,” I said. “Or create remote access. Depends how it’s configured.”
Dad stared.
“You mean someone bugged my internet?”
“Possibly.”
Tiffany whispered, “Greg installed that.”
The room went still.
Mom looked at her.
“You said he installed the router.”
“He did.”
Price immediately asked, “Where is Mr. Palmer now?”
“Dallas.”
“For what?”
“A conference.”
“What hotel?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did you last speak?”
“This afternoon.”
Price held out his hand.
“I need your phone.”
Tiffany clutched it against her chest.
“No.”
“Tiffany,” I said.
“This is insane. Those are private messages.”
“Yes.”
“He and I talk about personal things.”
“I promise nobody here cares.”
Her eyes flashed.
“You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act superior.”
For a second, the investigation disappeared.
We were fifteen and eighteen again.
Two sisters in a kitchen arguing over something neither of us would remember.
But this time a dead colonel’s credentials had been used to generate a false arrest order from our parents’ network.
I did not have room for childhood resentments.
“Give him the phone.”
“You don’t get to command me.”
“No. But the search warrant that will arrive in about twenty minutes will.”
She stared at me.
Then at Hale.
Then at the investigators.
Finally she unlocked the phone and handed it over.
Price placed it in an evidence sleeve.
Mom started crying.
“This is supposed to be a family dinner.”
Dad touched her shoulder.
I felt guilt strike somewhere deep.
Not because I caused this.
Because danger had followed me into the one place I had spent years trying to keep separate from my work.
Then Price’s partner called from the living room.
“Sergeant!”
We hurried out.
He had been examining Tiffany’s phone through an isolation reader.
“There’s an encrypted app hidden behind the calculator interface.”
Tiffany looked confused.
“What?”
“Did you install it?”
“No.”
“When did you get the phone?”
“Greg gave it to me.”
My stomach dropped.
Price opened the encrypted directory.
Most files were inaccessible.
One was not.
A photograph.
He enlarged it.
It showed me walking across a military airfield in Virginia.
Timestamped six weeks earlier.
Another image.
Me entering a secure building.
Another.
Me driving away from an installation.
Tiffany’s face lost all color.
“I’ve never seen those.”
I believed her.
Then Price opened the final accessible file.
It was a document containing two words.
HARPER FAMILY.
Below it were four names.
Dad.
Mom.
Tiffany.
Me.
Beside each name was a status.
My parents: LEVERAGE.
Tiffany: ACCESS.
Me:
TARGET.
My mother made a broken sound.
General Hale stepped closer to me.
“We move now.”
Dad shook his head.
“Move where?”
“Secure location.”
“This is our home.”
“No longer.”
The general’s voice left no room for debate.
Outside, another government vehicle arrived.
Price suddenly lifted a hand.
“Wait.”
He was staring at Tiffany’s phone.
A message had appeared on the isolated display.
Sender unknown.
Five words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED AWAY.
Then the lights went out.
My mother screamed.
May you like
Glass shattered somewhere near the back of the house.
And from outside came the unmistakable sound of a suppressed gunshot.
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