The Devil Went Down to Austin - By Rick Riordan Page 0,20

three different confidential inhouse reports that had been posted anonymously to a Usenet group - a leak that could cost the company millions. There were more letters like that - horror stories from the betatesters, irate emails, threats to sue Techsan out of existence. There was also one fax to Garrett, on Matthew Pena's letterhead, dated April 1, just before all hell broke loose. The fax read, Look forward to doing business with you. - M. An Austin number was written underneath.

I stared at the M. for a long time.

Garrett finally slammed the top of the keyboard shut. He took the joint out of his mouth, smushed it against the back of the monitor.

Maia said, "I guess that means no luck."

"There's nothing else I can try from here. I need to get to the office."

"You go through a lot of laptops?" I asked.

Garrett glowered at me. "Ruby insists on a meeting tonight. She's scared - wants to sell out. I've got one afternoon to find something - some proof that we can isolate the problem."

"Can you trace the leaked documents?" I asked. "Figure out where they came from?"

"You don't think I've thought of that, little bro? I'd have to have permission from the betatest companies - get full access to their servers. The ones that were most affected are suing our asses. They aren't letting me anywhere near their machines."

"Can you get somebody to help you look? Ruby?" "No."

"The police?"

"Hell no."

I held up the fax from Matthew Pena. "Any more love notes lying around?"

Garrett looked at the fax like he wanted to set it on fire. "You're starting your class tomorrow. I hope that's the only reason you're here - you need a place to stay."

"But you've already got company."

Maia stared at me stonily.

Garrett set aside his computer, brushed the ashes off the cover. "She's staying at the Driskill, little bro. Don't be rude."

"Let me guess," I said. "Matthew Pena's staying there, too."

Maia raised her eyebrows. "What makes you so sure?"

"You'll crowd him. Give him no room to breathe. Try to redirect the police investigation toward him. That's your plan, isn't it?"

"You assume a lot."

"You wouldn't come down here to defend Garrett. You're an offensive player.

Something turned you against Pena. It's Pena you're after."

Three seconds of silence. "Tres, do us both a favour. Leave now."

It was the first break in her coldness - when she said the word favour. It wasn't much, nothing I would've caught had I not known her for a decade. Just the slightest indication that she wanted me gone for more reasons than one.

I folded Pena's fax. "I can't sit this out, Garrett."

"You and the goddamn ranch."

"It's more than that."

He stared past the balcony railing, like he was taking aim at something a long way off.

He didn't reply.

After a moment, Maia pointed at me, then pointed inside.

Reluctantly, I followed.

In the living room, Buffett was still singing his greatest hits. The parrot was bobbing his head, crooning the only words he knew - "dickhead," "noisy bastard," a few other cute obscenities.

"It would've been more helpful if you were the pizza guy," Maia told me. "I had nothing but peanuts on the plane, went straight from the airport to the homicide office."

"Pena," I said. "Is he as bad as he looks on paper?"

She made a boat out of her money. "Worse."

There were pale Vs on the tops of her feet, remnants of a suntan through flipflops. I wondered if she still spent Saturday afternoons in the Mission, seeking out the only oasis of sunshine in San Francisco.

"I have to turn the investigation away from Garrett," she said. "If the case goes to the DA the way it is . . ."

She didn't finish. She didn't have to. We both understood why she couldn't wait for an indictment, why no defence lawyer would ever want to defend a friend in court. If the police felt confident enough to arrest Garrett, if the case went to trial without a plea bargain - the odds for acquittal got very long indeed.

"And you still don't want my help," I said.

"That's Garrett's call."

"Is it?" I picked up Garrett's phone.

Maia frowned. "What are you - "

I hadn't really been expecting any luck - not on a Sunday afternoon - but on the third ring a cheery receptionist's voice said, "Mr. Pena's offices. This is Krystal."

I knew she spelled it with a K. She sounded like the K variety of Krystal.

I told her I was the personal assistant to one of Matthew's venture