Just One of the Guys(52)

I look away before I actually start spying, but my heart feels a little heavy just the same.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“GET IN HERE!” PENELOPE BARKS the next morning with uncharacteristic sharpness.

“What’s going on?” I ask, going into her office and dropping my knapsack onto a chair.

She whips her computer monitor toward me. My mouth falls open. “Oh, shit!” I squeak.

There on the screen, in full color, is one of those moving computer cartoons. Of Aragorn. And Legolas. In a rather compromising position, though Legolas seems to be having a good time.

“What the hell?” I ask. My heart is thumping wildly, my throat dry. “Someone must have hacked in! I’ll…I have to…I’ll get it off.”

“Yes! Do that!” Penelope says.

I fly over to my desk and turn on my computer. While it’s booting up, I notice that everyone else is studiously not looking at me. Lucia is answering the phones, which are ringing off the damn hook with angry citizens, no doubt. Carl is talking in a low voice with Danielle in layout. He glances at me in consternation…What the hell? Who could have done this? Penelope and I are the only ones with the password that can access the Web site design.

“Nice abs on Aragorn,” Pete murmurs without glancing up.

“Not funny, Pete,” I say. My eyes are burning. God, this is bad, bad, bad.

Alan looks furious. Well, he should! Our Web site has g*y  p**n  on it, for heaven’s sake! How many people have seen it? How many kids? Oh, shit!

My computer is finally booted. I start up the Web site design program, type in the password—my hands are shaking and I get it wrong twice—and there it is, Aragorn screwing Legolas.

“Bleecch!” I can’t help saying. I click on the image and delete it and it’s gone, thank God. Then I quickly save the changes and publish the site to the Internet.

“Is it gone?” I ask Pete.

He clicks on his screen. “Yeah. Too bad. I was getting a little turned on.”

“Not funny. Still.” For the next hour, I check all the pages and links to make sure Aragorn and Legolas aren’t getting it on somewhere else. They’re not, mercifully. Though I’m adept at setting up a Web site, I know very little about hacking. How someone got in is a mystery. We have firewalls, the password, which is a long series of random numbers and letters…I just don’t know. Then I call the company that supplies our domain and ask them to change the password, explaining what happened.

“Well, if someone can hack into the Department of Defense, they’re gonna be able to get into a little newspaper,” the drone at the other end of the phone says.

“Great. Thanks for your help,” I snap.

Angela cruises in ten minutes later. “Hi, everyone! I have muffins from a new bakery in Lake George. Help yourselves!” The mood of the office hits her, and she comes over to my desk. “What’s going on?”

“Someone hacked into the Web site and put up  p**n ,” I mutter.

“Oh, no!” she says, her face falling. “How could that happen?”

“Got me.” I look up at her. “Lord of the Rings  p**n . Aragorn and Legolas.”

She goes white. “Oh, no,” she says again.

“I know,” I whisper.

A few minutes later, Penelope sticks her head out of her office. “Staff meeting!”

Like penguins, we all toddle into the conference room. The Web site is my responsibility. I’m sweating by the time I sit down. Even Lucia looks nervous.

“As everyone is quite aware, we’re in deep shit,” Penelope announces. “Chastity. Tell us what happened.”

“Um, well, someone obviously hacked into the Web site,” I say, looking around. “Someone who wants us to look bad.”

“Who would want that?” Lucia asks, nibbling a cuticle.

We all pause. “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m trying to figure out how they did it, but the truth is, anyone who can hack past the security we have in place is a lot more clever than I am. I’ve changed the password and ordered another firewall, Pen. If anyone has more suggestions, please speak up.” My cheeks are burning.

“We’ve had over fifty calls this morning, Chastity,” Pen says, her usually friendly face grim.

“I’ll be happy to field them,” I say, swallowing. “This is my responsibility. I wish I could do more.”

“Maybe you need to check the Web site every night,” Angela suggests.

“Definitely,” I say. I know that I’ll be checking it not just when I go to bed, but in the middle of the night and first thing in the morning, too.

“Damage control?” Pen asks.

“I’ll run a story, of course,” Alan says. “We can drum up some sympathy, explain about hackers, security, that kind of thing.” He sighs deeply, shaking his head, then looks at me, his angry expression softening. “Sorry this happened, Chastity.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“Anything else?” Pen asks. No one says a word. “Chastity, in my office, okay?”

She lets the door close before leaning on her desk. I sit uncomfortably on the edge of the seat. “This is bad, Chastity. Do you think it’s a coincidence, it being Lord of the Rings and all? Because it’s kind of common knowledge around here that you’re a big fan.”