“She might have a great deal of information on her laptop. I would like to borrow it to see what I can find.”
At this, Leona says, “I don’t think we can let you do that.”
I look at Leona then at Carmen. My impression now is that Leona is there to protect Carmen. Possibly from me.
I wait for an answer but don’t press. Carmen then speaks up. “I’m sure Father Castillo told you about my situation—why I cannot go to the police. I don’t know what my daughter has in her computer, but I simply cannot risk letting it out of my home. If you would like, you may look through it now. While I am here.”
I can’t say I blame her. If my home and residency were in jeopardy, I might be wary about letting a computer with potentially damaging evidence leave my house. In an effort to assure her, I explain what I’ll be looking for on the computer. Emails. Search history. Social-media profiles. A diary. I open the screen and talk her through my search. As expected, the computer is password protected.
“Now what?” Carmen asks.
I restart the computer in safe mode and remove a flash drive from my pocket. Paige created an application for me to use for just such an occasion. I talk Carmen through the task at hand—an attempt at a brute-force attack to crack the password and access the computer. She stares back at me with a confused expression then keeps a worried eye on me while I work. I can only imagine that my explanation reinforces her fears about my taking the computer. But it’s not like I could use Elizabeth’s laptop to access all their personal banking files, steal their private fortune, and collect enough evidence to have them deported.
Paige could, but I don’t tell Carmen that.
In about five minutes, I finally have access to Elizabeth’s desktop. I open her emails, and we scan them, looking for communications between her and her friends. As I expected, there’s very little. Most people Elizabeth’s age communicate almost exclusively from their cell phones. Email is too formal.
I look through her files to see if she keeps a journal. Nope. There are plenty of folders for homework and college classes. Elizabeth seems like a good student.
Then we hit the browser. I go straight to Facebook and give her timeline a cursory glance. There’s been no activity in the past week. I check her About page. USC student. No relationship status. I scroll her more than three thousand friends—just a bunch of happy teens and young adults in college, too many to research right now.
When I search through the security settings in her browser, I’m able to reveal many of the passwords she has saved. Without drawing too much attention to my actions, I quickly export the passwords from the browser and onto the USB drive. I search for other accounts and social media but find nothing on her laptop. Like other teens, she accesses most of her accounts through apps on her phone, so the laptop doesn’t offer much. I scour her search history. There’s nothing atypical—no weekend getaways, remote locations, or How to Disappear without a Trace—so I close the laptop and retrieve the USB stick.
This anonymous boyfriend makes one suspect—two if I still count Leona. I agree to help Carmen take the case. She’s appreciative and offers a hug as thanks. I propose a fee—more than my usual—and Carmen accepts without a hassle. Leona produces a signed check that Carmen fills out.
Before I leave, Carmen insists I take some more paella. I don’t want to be rude, so I accept two large containers. I’m beginning to like Carmen.
Leona walks me to the gate, and who should I pass while I’m leaving but Hugo—Mr. Library himself. He emerges from the cab of a delivery van for Super Tech and glares at me when we catch each other’s eye. I smile and nod. He counters with a sneer and marches into the house.
Leona watches our silent exchange. “What was that about?”
“We’re in a book club together.”
* * *
My Spidey senses tell me not to trust Hugo. I’m also not sure of his role in this whole thing. The fact that he was driving a Super Tech van suggests he works directly for the electronics chain—the business—and not Carmen personally. But his appearance at the library and then Carmen’s home tells me he’s more closely involved with Carmen than just on a professional level. When I combine that with the tough-guy attitude, I decide to add him to my list of suspects.
I wonder if that was what bothered me about the Super Tech photo and Carmen’s Razzie performance in the hall. What’s the personal connection? Is he her boyfriend?
It’s weird for me to think about a grown woman having a boyfriend. The term sounds so juvenile. Then I remind myself that I’m an adult, and I don’t have a boyfriend. Now I feel like a loser.
Chapter 6
____◊____
WHEN I GET HOME, OUR living room is spotless. There is no sign of the boxes, and the papers that had once littered the floor are gone. Paige looks up from her spot at our dining room table as she slurps up leftover noodles.
“What happened to—”
“Don’t ask,” she says. That pretty much tells me all I need to know. After yet another attempt to glean new information from the mountain of documents, she has achieved nothing. She changes the subject. “How did your meeting go?”
I can tell Paige is looking for an opportunity to take her mind off her search, and I’m happy to oblige. After putting away the paella for later, I take a seat at the table across from Paige, grab some chopsticks, and dig into a box of dumplings. “Can you run some background research on a Carmen Viramontes?”
“Who’s Carmen Viramontes?” Paige asks, setting her noodles on the table next to me.
“Widow in Pasadena
