Come and Find Me A Novel of Suspense - By Hallie Ephron Page 0,44

to get wind of. Just suppose, for example, that you have the gene for ALS. Or you’ve got a chromosomal abnormality that’s been linked to violent behavior? Or sexual perversion? I can easily imagine—”

Pam was interrupted by what sounded like a dog barking. It was coming from her computer. “My network watchdog,” she said.

She rolled over to her computer, clicked the mouse, and the sound stopped. “It just stopped a message from going out.” Frown lines deepened on her forehead as she stared at new information that had popped up. She turned to Diana. “Looks like it blocked an outgoing message that originated on your computer.”

“But I didn’t send anything.”

“Well, your computer sure as hell did. Or at least it tried to. Must have been when you connected to the Internet.” She swiveled the screen so Diana could see.

OUTBOUND LEVEL 1 BREACH INTERCEPTED.

Below that was a message addressed to USER003 on Volganet. All it contained was:

42.33765016859684–71.07173681259155

“I have no idea what those numbers mean,” Pam said. “Do you?”

“They’re geocodes,” Diana said. She pulled up the Web site WhereUAre.com and pasted the numbers into a search box. “Shit,” she said, the back of her neck prickling as a map of the South End came up with a virtual pushpin on Harrison Avenue in the precise location of Pam’s apartment building.

Chapter Nineteen

“The good news is . . . that message never made it out,” Pam said. Diana found that only marginally reassuring.

It didn’t take long for Pam to find the program that had launched it. She examined the code. “This is awfully clever. Simple but effective.” She looked over at Diana. “But how’d it get here?”

“When did it get here?”

“I can tell you that. Hold on,” Pam said. A few clicks later, Pam pointed to the screen. “Just under a year ago.”

“No way.” Diana had owned the laptop for about that long—since Gamelan started. For that entire time it had been broadcasting her whereabouts to Volganet? She dropped into a chair. With all the fancy security systems that Jake had set up for her, how was that possible?

Diana watched as Pam deleted the program. We have no privacy. She remembered Daniel’s rant about how the Internet, which had started out as a haven for freedom, had been co-opted, transformed into a playpen for Big Brother. Every time you’re on the Internet somebody knows where you are.

Pam handed the laptop back to her. The tiny circle over the top of the screen, a built-in video camera that she’d never bothered about, seemed to blink at her.

“You got any masking tape?” she asked Pam.

When Pam brought her a roll, she tore off a tiny scrap and stuck it over the camera lens.

If her laptop had been sending out information about its whereabouts, maybe there was a GPS chip transmitting from the car too. For that matter, a tracking device could have been sewn into clothing—like the brand-new clothes she’d purchased online and that Ashley had been wearing when she disappeared.

Diana picked the leather jacket off Pam’s coatrack where she’d hung it and turned it over in her hands. She wondered how small and well camouflaged a GPS emitter could be. She examined the metal fittings on the jacket. Could it resemble a snap or be embedded in a buckle?

She ran her fingers up inside the lining and rolled the collar and cuffs between her fingers, feeling for any kind of anomaly. Then she examined the jeans and T-shirt that she still had on. Then the red boots that she’d shucked when she came into the apartment.

She pulled out her cell phone. Didn’t they come with embedded GPS locators? She’d have to take that risk. It was the only way that Ashley could reach her, and she couldn’t turn it off—not until she was sure Ashley was safe.

That night, Diana tried to fall asleep on a blowup mattress on Pam’s floor. It was comfortable enough and she was warm under a down comforter, but her insides were tied up in knots. She timed her morning tranquillity pill so it would be at full strength for the trip to Copley Square. It was only ten blocks away, but just looking out the window to the street below gave Diana the jitters. Even with Daniel’s walking stick, she’d never make it on foot. Driving the Hummer into the congested downtown and finding a parking spot near Spontaneous Combustion’s office—how likely was that?

She needn’t have worried. Pam offered to drive.

They rode down in the elevator together. Pam went outside,