Game On: Tempting Twenty-Eight (Stephanie Plum #28)(7)

Melvin Schwartz was standing in the middle of the loft. He was five feet ten inches tall, and he looked like a giant, chubby cherub. He had wispy blond hair, apple cheeks, and a soft Pillsbury Doughboy body. He was wearing gray wool socks and pajamas with dinosaurs on them. According to his file he was twenty-six years old.

“I charge $145 an hour for computer consultation,” Melvin said.

“I don’t want computer consultation,” I said. “I’m looking for Oswald Wednesday.”

Melvin’s eyes popped wide open. “Oswald Wednesday? For real?”

“We know he’s in Trenton, and we thought you might have heard something.”

“Oswald Wednesday is my god,” Melvin said. “I worship him. He’s famous! He’s only the best hacker living or dead, ever. He’s made millions in ransom. He’s shut down pipelines and cruise ships and hacked into satellites. He’s fearless and brilliant. I’d give my right thumb to meet Oswald Wednesday. And he’s in Trenton? Are you sure? I mean, I knew something big was going down, but I never dreamed O.W. would be operating out of Trenton.”

“Tell me about the something big,” Diesel said.

“No can do,” Melvin said. “That would violate the hacker’s code.”

“Hackers have a code?”

“It’s one of those understood things,” he said. “Why are you looking for O.W.?”

“It’s personal,” Diesel said. “He has something that belongs to my employer and my employer would like it back.”

“Who are you?” Melvin asked me. “What’s your story?”

“I’m Stephanie Plum. I’m looking for Oswald because he missed his court date.”

“Stephanie Plum!” Melvin said. “I thought I recognized you. You’re the disaster bounty hunter. I saw your picture in the paper a couple of months ago when you jumped out of the hooker hotel. And I remember when you and your grandmother burned down the funeral home.”

Diesel looked around the loft. “Why do you live here?” Diesel asked Melvin.

“It’s free,” Melvin said. “My uncle owns the building, and this space wasn’t being used for anything.”

“Convenient,” Diesel said.

“Yeah,” Melvin said. “It’s a win-win. I’m an embarrassment to my family. This gets me out of their house. Out of sight. Out of mind. They’re happy and I’m happy because I have these cool digs, and I can pursue my calling.”

“What’s your calling?” I asked him.

“Hacking, of course.”

“Are you any good?” Diesel asked.

“I’m brilliant,” Melvin said. “Maybe I’m not at O.W.’s level yet, but I’m good enough to hack into O.W.’s network.”

“You’ve hacked into Oswald’s computer?” I asked.

Melvin’s energy level went up a couple of watts. “Not me, personally. My group, Baked Potato. We were only in his network for a couple seconds, but you have to understand, hacking O.W. is huge. O.W. either noticed right away or he had some sort of amazing emergency protocol code that noticed. We’re locked out again, but we’re working to get back in. It’s like a challenge.”

“Who else is in Baked Potato?” I asked.

“There are seven of us,” Melvin said. “I don’t know who any of them are beyond their hacker names. I’m HotWiz.”

“If you have the skills to hack into O.W.’s network, why don’t you get a real job?” Diesel asked.

“This is my job. My problem is that I haven’t totally found my focus yet. I haven’t found that big project that really puts you on the map.”

“This could be your lucky day,” Diesel said. “Help us find Oswald and you’ll have your moment of fame.”

“You want me to go snitch on O.W.? I’d be the most hated hacker in history. O.W. is revered.”

“Fame has its price,” Diesel said. “And you’re wrong. You wouldn’t be hated. Oswald is a black-hat hacker. You’d be a hero if you took him down as a gray-hat hacker. And you’d replace him as the number one hacker.”

“Oh man, that would be awesome,” Melvin said.

“Tell me about this big thing that’s happening,” Diesel said.

“I don’t know anything about it,” Melvin said. “There’s just lots of chatter. I’d have to go snooping.”

“And the best way to go snooping is by hacking into Oswald’s network again,” Diesel said.

“I’d have to think about it,” Melvin said. “I guess it could be fun.”

Diesel took a page off a yellow pad that was on one of the desks and wrote his email address and cell phone number. “Here’s my information,” Diesel said. “Get in touch with me if you learn anything.”

I gave Melvin my card. “I’m also available,” I said.

“One more thing,” Diesel said. “Do you have any idea where Oswald might be hiding out while he’s in Trenton? Does he have any hacker friends here?”

“Not that I know about,” Melvin said.

We left the loft and walked back to my car.

“What’s a black-hat and a gray-hat hacker?” I asked Diesel.