Criss Cross

Chapter 66

Keith Karl Rawlins called that evening to tell me that my personal phone had indeed been hacked and compromised by an insidious piece of code that had most likely been written in China. The code evidently caused my phone to send a record of everything I did on it to an address on the dark web.

So M has been listening, watching, reading, I thought as I climbed into bed. For how long? And how had he learned of my burn phone number? I’d given it only to my family and close colleagues; were they bugged as well?

That last thought was the most upsetting. M had been listening to me through my phone, shadowing me electronically. And maybe he was doing the same thing to everyone else trying to catch him.

What else had he heard in the past week? Month? Year?

I barely slept. Despite an ophthalmic ointment given to me in the emergency room, my eyes still stung. And every hour or so, I had coughing fits.

But I was up before anyone else the next morning, padding around the house, checking windows and doors. I considered putting security cameras outside my home and wondered whether every electronic device we had should be checked.

My commitment to keeping my family safe and sound deepened after Ali and Jannie got up. I questioned them about their plans for the day.

Even though she felt even better than she had the day before, Jannie was staying home and working so she could get all caught up with her studies. Ali was going on a field trip to the Smithsonian and then on a Wild Wheels ride.

“I’ll drive you to school today,” I told him.

“I can take the Metro.”

“I have to go in that direction anyway.”

My son was remarkably perceptive for his age. Even though he didn’t reply, I could tell he was suspicious. Bree came rushing down a few moments later, looking grim.

“You okay?” Ali asked.

“No,” she said sadly. “Nancy Petit, one of our patrol officers, died last night from injuries sustained on the job.”

My heart sank. Officer Petit was the woman I’d dragged out of the smoke. “I’m sorry,” I said.

“The chief wants a task force, so I’m heading in now to organize.”

“You want me there?”

“Yes,” she said. “First meeting is at ten.”

She had coffee and a piece of toast, and then I walked her out to her car.

“Stay alert. He was threatening all of us in that text.”

“I know,” she said. “Which is why I’m asking the chief to put officers here.”

“Thanks. I’m hoping M made a mistake sending that text, that Rawlins can backtrack it.”

“Let me know,” Bree said. She kissed me, told me she loved me, and drove off. Twenty minutes later, Ali and I headed out too.

“So why are you really taking me to school?” he asked almost as soon as we got in the car.

I knew better than to skirt the question. Sometimes my youngest child is too smart for his own good. “A bad guy bugged my phone and threatened us,” I said. “So I’m driving you to school to be prudent, and I want you to be prudent too. You know that word, right?”

“Like, level-headed?”

“More like cautiously smart.”

“I can do that.”

“I know you can, and that’s the way I want you to be for the time being. If you’re going somewhere, I want to know where, why, and with whom.”

“I always do that.”

“Good. Keep it up. If you see anything or anyone who strikes you as strange, you tell me immediately. Okay?”

“I can send you a Wickr message!”

I winced. “No more Wickr. I don’t even have it on my new phone.”

Ali seemed disappointed and was quiet the rest of the way to school.

But when I pulled up in front of the building, he looked at me with an expression that shouldn’t be on the face of a ten-year-old.

“Are we going to be okay, Dad?”