Mr. Mercedes (Unnamed Trilogy #1)(102)

“Yeah, mine says that, too. But who’s he? Who are we talking about?”

She thinks it over. They both do. And after perhaps five seconds, they speak at the same time.

“Her I-T guy,” Jerome says, just as Holly says, “Her geek freak.”

Jerome starts going through the drawers of Olivia’s computer station, looking for a computer-service invoice, a bill stamped PAID, or a business card. There ought to be at least one of those, but there’s nothing. He gets on his knees and crawls into the kneehole under the desk. Nothing there, either.

“Look on the fridge,” he says. “Sometimes people put shit there, under little magnets.”

“There are plenty of magnets,” Holly says, “but nothing on the fridge except for a real estate agent’s card and one from the Vigilant security company. I think Janey must have taken down everything else. Probably threw it away.”

“Is there a safe?”

“Probably, but why would my cousin put her I-T guy’s business card in her safe? It’s not like it’s worth money, or anything.”

“True-dat,” Jerome says.

“If it was here, it would be by her computer. She wouldn’t hide it. I mean, she wrote her password right under her goshdarn keyboard.”

“Pretty dumb,” Jerome says.

“Totally.” Holly suddenly seems to realize how close they are. She gets up and goes back to the doorway. She starts flipping the collar of her housecoat again. “What are you going to do now?”

“I guess I better call Bill.”

He takes out his cell phone, but before he can make the call, she says his name. Jerome looks at her, standing there in the doorway, looking lost in her flappy comfort-clothes.

“There must be, like, a zillion I-T guys in this city,” she says.

Nowhere near that many, but a lot. He knows it and Hodges knows it, too, because it was Jerome who told him.

30

Hodges listens carefully to everything Jerome has to say. He’s pleased by Jerome’s praise of Holly (and hopes Holly will be pleased, too, if she’s listening), but bitterly disappointed that there’s no link to the Computer Jack who worked on Olivia’s machine. Jerome thinks it must be because Janey threw Computer Jack’s business card away. Hodges, who has a mind trained to be suspicious, thinks Mr. Mercedes might have made damned sure Olivia didn’t have a card. Only that doesn’t track. Wouldn’t you ask for one, if the guy did good work? And keep it handy? Unless, that is . . .

He asks Jerome to put Holly on.

“Hello?” So faint he has to strain to hear her.

“Holly, is there an address book on Olivia’s computer?”

“Just a minute.” He hears faint clicking. When she comes back, her voice is puzzled. “No.”

“Does that strike you as weird?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Could the guy who planted the spook sounds have deleted her address book?”

“Oh, sure. Easy. I’m taking my Lexapro, Mr. Hodges.”

“That’s great, Holly. Can you tell how much Olivia used her computer?”

“Sure.”

“Let me talk to Jerome while you look.”

Jerome comes on and says he’s sorry they haven’t been able to find more.

“No, no, you’ve done great. When you tossed her desk, you didn’t find a physical address book?”

“Uh-uh, but lots of people don’t bother with them anymore—they keep all their contacts on their computers and phones. You know that, right?”

Hodges supposes he should know it, but the world is moving too fast for him these days. He doesn’t even know how to program his DVR.

“Hang on, Holly wants to talk to you again.”

“You and Holly are getting along pretty well, huh?”

“We’re cool. Here she is.”

“Olivia had all kinds of programs and website faves,” Holly says. “She was big on Hulu and Huffpo. And her search history . . . it looks to me like she spent even more time browsing than I do, and I’m online a lot.”

“Holly, why would a person who really depends on her computer not have a service card handy?”

“Because the guy snuck in and took it after she was dead,” Holly says promptly.

“Maybe, but think of the risk—especially with the neighborhood security service keeping an eye on things. He’d have to know the gate code, the burglar alarm code . . . and even then he’d need a housekey . . .” He trails off.

“Mr. Hodges? Are you still there?”

“Yes. And go ahead and call me Bill.”

But she won’t. Maybe she can’t. “Mr. Hodges, is he a master criminal? Like in James Bond?”

“I think just crazy.” And because he’s crazy, the risk might not matter to him. Look at the risk he took at City Center, plowing into that crowd of people.

It still doesn’t ring right.

“Give me Jerome again, will you?”

She does, and Hodges tells him it’s time to get out before Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Henry come back and catch him computer-canoodling with Holly.

“What are you going to do, Bill?”

He looks out at the street, where twilight has started to deepen the colors of the day. It’s close to seven o’clock. “Sleep on it,” he says.