Central during rush hour.”
“This one’s at the BPL. ‘Meet on the front steps of the old entrance,’ ” Diana read from the screen. Those steps faced the west side of Copley Square. “ ‘Six sharp. Today. All you need is a cell phone and a pair of sunglasses.’ ”
“What are they going to do?”
“Be there at six and find out.”
“Today? But I’m meeting Aaron.”
It took Diana a moment to remember. Aaron was Ashley’s latest, a guy she’d met on a plane. A stockbroker, according to him. Wanted to date her but wouldn’t give her his phone number or tell her where he lived. The only way she could reach him was through e-mail.
Ashley must have read her expression because she said, “You’ve never even met the guy.”
Diana raised her eyebrows and held Ashley’s gaze.
“Okay. You’re right,” Ashley said. “He is a shit. And on top of that, he’s been weirding me out. Checking up like he’s some kind of control freak.”
“So why are you seeing him?”
“I’m not. I’m dumping him. Tonight.” Ashley sounded determined.
“Well, dump him early. Then you can go to this. I bet the people you meet here will be far more interesting than Aaron.”
“ ‘If you accept this mission . . .’ ” Ashley read the screen. “So anyone can just show up and participate?”
“And there’s a ring tone.” Diana clicked on the link and a piano crescendo played, then horns came in: DUM dah DUM, DUM dah DUM. Then a man’s solemn voice. “Faster than a speeding bullet.” There was a whoosh. It was the iconic opening of the old Superman TV show. “More powerful—”
Diana laughed and turned off the player. “You’re supposed to download that to your cell before you go.”
“That’s easy. I’m in.”
Diana hit reply. “There. You’re registered.” She hit print and the original message rolled off her printer.
Ashley grabbed the printout and scanned it. “Nadia Varata?”
“Sorry. She got the invite, so you’re registered as her. It doesn’t matter. I’m sure they don’t make you wear name tags or show a photo ID.”
A new message popped onto the top of the queue, confirming the registration. Diana was about to delete it when there was another ding. This time there was a blinking star beside the message—a file attachment.
Yes! She’d planted the bogus data file in time and MedLogic’s hackers had taken her bait.
A third ding announced a new message from GROB.
Diana turned the monitor away from Ashley, stood and clapped her hands together. “So, you want to see what came in that UPS box?”
Chapter Five
The shipping box lay open on the floor of the living room. The only thing that remained, nestled among the tissue paper, was a red cap. Ashley’s white hobo bag lay like a deflated dirigible beside the box. From down the hall, the toilet flushed. Boot heels sounded on the wood floor. Then silence.
Ashley peered around the doorjamb. “Ready or not.” She stepped into the room, and pirouetted in front of the fireplace. “You’re going to look so great in these.”
Ashley looked pretty great herself in the skintight black jeans and elaborately hand-tooled red cowboy boots. The fitted leather jacket hung open over a T-shirt emblazoned with the fractured word HACKER.
Ashley sniffed the arm of the jacket. “Leather, right? Because I’m allergic to latex and polyester.”
“No vinyls were killed to make any part of that outfit. We’re talking sheepskin. Cotton. Wool. Well, maybe a little Lycra in the denim.”
Ashley pulled at the crotch of the jeans. “I had to lie down to squeeze into them.” Then she twisted, straining to look over her shoulder and down her backside. “Wish there was a mirror in this place . . .” Her voice trailed off.
Diana offered her the red newsboy cap.
“Hang on.” Ashley rummaged in her purse and came up with a hair clip. She pulled back her long hair, formed it into a figure eight, and anchored it with the clip on top of her head. Then she put on the hat, setting it on her head at a jaunty angle. She zipped the jacket and turned up the collar.
“You look great, Ash.”
“Great pretty? Great sexy? Great . . . big?”
“Great in a don’t-mess-with-me kind of way.”
Ashley tugged the jacket smooth. “I can live with that.” She stood tall, her feet apart, arms folded over her chest. Wonder Woman. “Don’t mess with me.” She delivered the words with a snarl.
“It all fits you so perfectly,” Diana said.
“As if they were made to order. So, when I give them back, are you