We last read Chapter 28, in which we saw another side of Raven Tristan, as the goth hacker cares for her mother, who is in a nursing home in a semi-vegetative state. Meanwhile, Beth Harper starts her meeting with the smarmy and confident Xavier Wheldon, CEO of StarPrime, at his remote lodge, the Pegasus Club. He expresses his desire for her to see that StarPrime’s purchase of Echo Energy— and its nuclear power plant—is a good thing. They discuss his about-face on nuclear power, as he was once a staunch opponent of it. Beth eventually gets to the point, mentioning the shooting on the land of the Pegasus Club, which sits not far from the nuclear power plant. Wheldon bristles at any suggestion of foul play on his part. He asks her to give the proposed deal a fair evaluation as she investigates it for her story, alongside the OCO investigation. He requests a final meeting with her, at the OCO offices, on the Friday afternoon before the Labor Day weekend. He also wants her to be his guest at a gala the day after that meeting, to celebrate the consummation of the deal. Wheldon plans to hold all the leverage against Beth Harper by the time of that meeting.
This is the second story, so if you want to start from the very beginning, you can jump over to book 1, and begin with the Prologue of Sapphire Angel, Superheroine. Or to start at the beginning of book 2 (this story), click over to the Prologue of Power Play.
Thanks for reading!
Anger and annoyance. Those feelings swirled up in Raven Tristan as she thought of Beth Harper. Tristan always learned about the subjects of her investigation with little difficulty. It was different with Harper, though. Despite all Tristan's research, an air of mystery surrounded the girl. The mystery had started three days earlier, when Tristan tried to follow Harper's car and lost her. It had piled on from there. The girl had unexplained parts of her life unlike anything Tristan had seen.
Most notably, Tristan couldn't figure out what Harper did with her life. She had been an avid figure skater in college, but had rarely skated since coming to Harrisburg. She had a circle of friends in college, but only one close friend, Ethan Moore, in Harrisburg. She socialized in college, and seemed to be loved by all, but was almost a recluse in Harrisburg.
Harper worked, but not enough to explain the change in her life. Yes, her boyfriend had died, but that wasn't the reason. According to records from Harper's former psychologist, whose server Tristan had hacked, Harper had recovered nicely after a few months. She was no longer taking medications or even seeing the counselor.
Maybe it was Harrisburg. Was it that difficult to build relationships here? Tristan wouldn't know, as she didn't care to build relationships, but she didn't think that was it. No, there was something else about Harper. Something that paper and digital files wouldn't tell her. Perhaps Harper's home would.
The streets near Harper's neighborhood were quiet as Tristan drove by the front of the townhouse, and then down the alley behind it. After making sure Harper's car was gone, Tristan circled back onto the main street, drove past the home one last time, and pulled up to the curb a block away.
The air was still and the temperature warm on the late August day, but Tristan wore her black leather jacket as she exited her car. The neatly kept homes of the neighborhood nearly abutted one another, with each porch containing a swing or other furniture. Narrow walkways opened between some buildings, with sunlight peaking through from the other side. A handful of the structures had narrow side yards, and some had stairs climbing an outside side wall, leading to second floor apartments. The yards were manicured and planted with bright flowers.
Harper rented a first-floor apartment three buildings from the end of the block. It was half of the first floor of what had once been a larger townhome, before being split into apartments. Tristan eyed it as she approached, and turned left down the walkway leading between the building and the adjacent building. The dark enveloped her for a few seconds before she emerged in the rear of the building.
She found herself in a small yard, with a row of tall shrubs providing privacy from the adjacent yards and from the alley running along the back of the yard. The grass was cut short and suffered from a brownish tint after a hot summer. Three lonely shrubs adorned a flowerbed against the building, and a few random weeds peaked up from within the bed.
Tristan made a direct line for the wooden steps leading to a porch. She climbed the steps, slid on a pair of tight leather gloves, and pulled a small leather pouch from her jacket pocket. As she unzipped the pouch, she looked to her left and right, confirming she was still alone.
Inside the pouch, lined up side by side, were several items looking almost like dental instruments. Tristan crouched in front of the door, maneuvering two of the tools into place in the keyhole. The lock was not a complicated one, and after just a few seconds she heard a satisfying click. Moments later, she stepped into Beth Harper's apartment and closed the door.
She found herself in the girl's kitchen and looked around, shaking her head. Tristan had expected exquisite decorations and stylish furnishings. Instead, the kitchen was outfitted with outdated appliances and bland colors. A montage of photographs hung on the wall, and more photographs hung on an old refrigerator. It felt like the kitchen of a college student.
Of course, the sparse interior fit the profile Tristan had built of Harper. The girl was an overachiever and didn't have time for frivolous pursuits, such as decorating. She was affectionate with her family and with her close friends, which would explain the many photographs.
Tristan moved to those photographs and examined them. Harper was in many of the shots, but not all. The photographs showed groups of smiling people, mostly female. Tristan placed most of them to be at school gatherings, although some seemed to be family photographs, with people of different ages standing close or hugging one another. Many of these people shared at least a vague resemblance to one another.
Tristan couldn't deny that Harper was a pretty girl. Harper's body caused Tristan to seethe with envy. In a few of the photographs, Harper stood on a beach, wearing a bikini and surrounded by other attractive girls. She was a fit little thing, with a flat stomach and toned arms and legs.
Tristan pulled her phone from her pocket and pointed it around the room, snapping photographs of her surroundings. She paused at Harper's photographs and took snapshots of those as well.
She moved to a computer tower in the corner of the kitchen. It was powered off. Tristan bent over next to the tower and stuck a thumb drive into a port on the top of the tower. She turned on the machine and held down a key sequence as the machine booted. As a boot menu appeared, Tristan hit a few keys to tell the machine to boot via the thumb drive.
A hall led from the kitchen toward the front of the apartment. Tristan left the computer behind and walked down the hall, finding a bedroom halfway on her left. She had to flick on the light switch on the wall when she entered, since the shade was down on the room's one window. The room was fairly small, with a full-sized bed, a nightstand, and a dresser across from the foot of the bed, just to the right of the window. A wooden door sat in the far right corner, leading to what Tristan presumed to be a closet. A wooden chair with fat armrests sat next to the closet door.
Harper was sloppy. The sheets and covers lay in a tangle atop the bed, and articles of clothing hung over the wooden chair and were scattered in a few places on the floor. The decorations in this room were like those in the kitchen, consisting of framed montages of Harper with friends and family.
Tristan moved about the room, opening drawers and looking under the bed. The nightstand was stuffed with odds and ends, furthering reinforcing Harper's lack of tidiness. The clothes in the dresser hadn't been folded. Tristan sneered when she found Harper's bras and panties, her jealously kicking in as she realized her own panties were twice as big. In the bottom drawer, Tristan found a few satin slips and other lingerie, and wondered when Harper had last worn them.
Tristan turned her attention to the closet and tested the handle. Locked. The lock was large, old-fashioned, and box-shaped, sticking two inches out from the door. It was made of black metal, with a keyhole in the center. As Tristan crouched and glanced in the keyhole, she scrunched her nose, perplexed. There didn't seem to be any locking mechanism in the hole.
Tristan stared at the keyhole, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. She leaned back and examined the outside of the lock. She gripped the lock, holding it firmly, and tried to move it. Her mouth opened in surprise as the lock slid to the left, revealing a keypad.
If Tristan had been intrigued before, now her curiosity was off the charts. She knelt close, studying the keypad. It was a simple keypad, with digits and an "Enter" button.
She shook her head. Tristan didn't have the tools to get past this kind of lock. Her mind raced with the possibilities of what might be on the other side of the door. An expensive item warranting such security? Or a clue to the secrets Harper was hiding? Tristan could only hope the other steps she was taking, such as the keylogger currently installing on Harper's computer, or the bugs she would install in her telephone, would pierce the girl's secrecy and provide some answers prior to Wheldon's deadline.
As she stepped away from the closet, Cassidy's heart wasn't in the rest of the search. She looked over the remaining room, which was a living room, but her mind was on the locked closet door. The living room was as nondescript as the kitchen and the rest of the bedroom. She finished, making sure she had left everything as she had found it, before installing the tap on Harper's phone, and a few audio bugs in discrete places around the apartment. She moved to the computer, retrieved her thumb drive, and shut down the computer.
When she was done, Tristan slipped out the back door, locked it, and pulled it shut behind her. As she walked away from the building, she hardened her resolve to find out what secrets Beth Harper was hiding.
The food would have been delicious if Bud Tanner had an appetite. He stared down at the plate in front of him, which held a French Bread sandwich piled high with thinly sliced Black Angus steak, and topped with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and onions. Fresh fruit and french fries surrounded the sandwich. Dinner would be even better.
But he wasn't hungry, even though he hadn't eaten for hours. Instead, acid filled his stomach, and the pangs of stress gnawed at him. Xavier Wheldon expected results, and Tanner wasn't delivering. What Wheldon didn't know, but possibly suspected, was that many of Tanner's failures were intentional. Tanner didn't want to provide Wheldon with the finished product the man had commanded him to complete.
He soon wouldn't have any other choice but to finish Wheldon's project successfully. Wheldon's deadline was approaching, and there would be grave consequences if Tanner failed to meet it.
He had foolishly thought there would be another way. It had only been five days earlier, even though it had felt like a lifetime ago, when Tanner had sneaked in a call to Beth Harper. The call and the meeting had been a mistake. Somehow, someway, Wheldon had learned of his secret meeting with the young woman. Thankfully, no harm had befallen her.
Tanner had evaded Wheldon's hired goons, but that had been a momentary respite. They had found him. Now he was right back here.
He agonized. The consequences of failure in his project were dire, but success might be worse. An impossible choice. He needed a way out, but Wheldon had ensured he didn't have one. But he had to do something. He had to try again. Soon.
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I feel like Tristan’s going to find out that Beth is Sapphire Angel soon, and blow this whole thing wide open. Also, it’s interesting.....the situation that Bud Tanner is currently in. He’s essentially trapped between a rock and a hard place; if he doesn’t complete the plan, Wheldon could punish him, but if he does, there could be completely different consequences.