Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(47)

“I suspected from the beginning. They were friends and I’d been lurking on them since high school. They didn’t know I existed. I was always frump girl.”

“Why were you lurking on them?”

She fidgeted with her single braid. “I sort of always thought Melvin was kind of cute. And he was smart. And he never made fun of me. And I guess I wanted to, you know, meet him someday.”

“Why were you at his door?”

“I wanted to warn him. I heard about Clark on the news. Poor Clark. He was a good person. I didn’t know for sure if it was Oswald who killed him, but it wasn’t a normal murder. And it was weird that Clark of all people would have that happen to him. It was hard to believe at first that Oswald would get so freaked out over being hacked that he would track us down and kill us.”

“Maybe there was more to it than just getting hacked,” I said.

“Like what?”

“There were rumors that Oswald had something big in the pipeline. Your hacking could have put that in jeopardy.”

Charlotte sat back a little. “I don’t know anything about that,” she said.

I wasn’t going to push her on it, but I felt in my gut that she was keeping something from me.

“You did the right thing when you tried to warn Melvin,” I said.

“I had a really hard time finding him. Oswald shut down everything. I knew Melvin wasn’t living at home, and I didn’t feel comfortable exposing my identity to Melvin’s family. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have been so protective of my privacy because two people are dead, and I might have prevented that. Even after I saw Oswald taken away in handcuffs and I was scared, I didn’t think he was capable of doing such horrible things.”

“Where are you staying?”

“In my car. And I come here during the day to work. I have a number of cybersecurity accounts that I need to monitor.”

“How can you live in your car?”

“It’s awful. I’m tired and I’m scared. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want someone cutting my tongue out because I was stupid and hacked them. We didn’t mean any harm. We thought Oswald might be impressed and let us into his inner circle. It was exciting.”

A tear rolled down Charlotte’s cheek. She wiped the tear away and pressed her lips together. “Sorry,” she said.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” I said. “Pack up your computer. We need to get out of here.”

“What about Melvin? Is he someplace safe?”

“He’s with my parents. I’m going to see if there’s room for you to stay there, too.”

“Omigosh,” Charlotte said. “I can’t see Melvin like this. I look even worse than usual. I’ve gone from frump girl to street person.”

“Don’t underestimate Melvin,” I said. “He sees beauty that others don’t recognize.”

Charlotte smiled. “He’s special, isn’t he?”

“Yep,” I said. “He’s special.”

I walked Charlotte out of the mall, to my car.

“What about my car?” she asked.

“I don’t want your car parked in front of my parents’ house. I’ll have someone pick it up and garage it in a safe place. Is there anything in the car that you need?”

“No. I left my house in a hurry. I took equipment I knew I would use for work and one change of clothes. It’s all in my backpack.”

“I’m not sure I could have survived on a change of clothes and sleeping in my car for as long as you have.”

“It’s been awful. Once a week I get a room in a hotel. I’ve been holding out on relocating, praying Oswald would get caught. I don’t get along with my stepfather, but my mom is here. I don’t want to leave her.”

I’m not a touchy-feely person. I think I’m loving and affectionate and I’m okay with moderate hugging of friends. I’ve never been entirely comfortable with the cheek-kissing thing. I mean, what’s the deal? Do you just air kiss? Do you make a kissing sound? Do you actually plant one on the other person? Anyway, I was wanting to hug Charlotte, but I held back. I didn’t know if I could pull it off in the food court.

I parked in my parents’ driveway and hurried Charlotte into the house. Melvin was no longer gaming. He was at his computer, in his zone. I sat Charlotte opposite him and he never looked up.

Charlotte looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack. Her hands were clenched in her lap and her eyes were darting around, focusing on everything but Melvin.

“Melvin!” I shouted.

Melvin jumped in his seat and looked up at me. Grandma and my mother ran in from the kitchen.

“This is Charlotte Huck,” I said to everyone. “She’s the fourth Trenton Baked Potato, Charley Q.”

Melvin blinked about twenty times in rapid succession. “What?”

I gestured with my hand. “HotWiz, meet Charley Q.”

“She’s a girl,” Melvin said.

Charlotte nodded. “Yes,” she said softly. “Correct.”

“That would make her a Hot Potato,” Grandma said.

Charlotte smiled and two pink splotches appeared on Melvin’s apple cheeks.

“Um, gosh,” Melvin said.