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caught her attention but when she saw the sender ID she rubbed her eyes.

From: Sylvia Vincent.

Mother.

Her cursor hovered over the trash button. It was from her mom’s email address. Somehow some virus had infected it. The last thing Carmen needed.

She deleted the message.

A new message appeared.

Help me. From: Sylvia Vincent.

She clicked delete again.

A third one showed up followed by a fourth. Next came a row of new messages with the same subject from the same sender.

Help me. From: Sylvia Vincent.

Carmen checked the box on all of them and dumped them into her spam folder. Considered the possibility that it wasn’t a virus but some malicious prank.

Her sister, Jenna, was the executor of her mother’s estate, but everything remained in limbo while NASA dragged its feet on the paperwork that would give closure to their loss. On top of it all, Jenna had her own problems and was always a week away from getting anything done. But if her mom’s accounts still hadn’t been canceled or her personal electronics were being accessed, Jenna needed to know. Passwords had to be changed before someone started opening credit cards in her mom’s name.

Nora took another sip from the flask before setting it back down between them. Said something, but Carmen couldn’t make it out.

“Please look at me when you speak,” Carmen said.

“Oh, sorry. I said, ‘Don’t suppose you’ll tell me what you’re looking for online that you don’t want anyone to see.’”

“Sorry, no. I’d just have to lie to you again.”

This earned a laugh.

Carmen needed to contact her sister. Even as she reached for her phone to send a message, a text appeared.

Help me.

It had come from her mom’s phone. Her mom’s smiling face stared at her from the text message thumbnail. Then more messages arrived, her phone buzzing with notifications.

Nora craned her neck over her monitor. “Aren’t you popular?”

Carmen muted her phone. This wasn’t something that could wait for Jenna to reply to in the morning. She tapped her contact list and called her sister. The phone rang but Jenna wasn’t picking up. It went to voicemail. Carmen ended the call and dialed again. She would keep trying until she got through.

She barely noticed when Nora got up and hurried past her. The entry doorbell was buzzing. Ross County Water Treatment received few visitors at night and no deliveries after hours. One of the techs had probably forgotten their card key and needed to be let inside.

As she began to compose a text message, Nora’s bright voice called from the hallway.

“Carmen, these men are asking to see you.”

Two men entered the control room. The first was a deputy with the Ross County Sheriff’s Department. He studied his phone for a moment before looking straight at Carmen.

“That’s her.”

Chapter Two

Carmen wasn’t expecting the cops.

Following the deputy into the control room was a member of the Peace Patrol. Part citizen watchdog group, part Guardian Angels, and part Hitler Youth, the Peace Patrol was now an increasingly regular feature of law enforcement, insinuating themselves as first responders throughout the country.

While Carmen didn’t know the deputy, she instantly recognized the Peace Patrol volunteer.

Peter Vogel. One of the few faces from high school who hadn’t blown out of the city of Garden Village, California, since graduating high school. And also her sister Jenna’s ex-husband and the father of Carmen’s two nephews.

“Hello, Carmen. I heard you got a job here.”

She snapped shut her laptop and spun on her chair to face them.

Peter stood broad and tall and still had the jock-who-spends-every-day-in-the-weight-room look he’d had since playing varsity-everything for the Village Idiots, aka the Garden Village Vikings. He wore a button-down blue shirt and zipped down puffy jacket with the white-and-gold Peace Patrol logo on it.

The deputy made a quick examination of the room. He was in his late thirties and hard to read. The overloaded equipment belt around his midsection creaked with every movement. Mirrored sunglasses sat tucked in his shirt pocket. He had a red mustache, and his pink face wore a mask of calm concern when his attention returned to Carmen.

She felt her stomach sink. Tried not to think about her laptop. Her palms were instantly slick and her mouth dry. She had lost her last job after her boss at the cable company discovered the wireless router she had installed in the server room. Had he followed through with his threats to call the cops on her a month after she had been kicked off the property?

She cleared her throat. “What’s going on?”

The deputy spoke up. “We’re following up on a series of network breaches—”

Peter interrupted him. When he spoke it was loud with exaggerated emphasis on each syllable. “I’ve got this, Jerry. Remember I said she’s part deaf. Carmen, the department has been investigating some illegal networks tapping into the public bandwidth. As you know, there’s only so many bits those networks can handle during the crisis.”

Carmen bristled. “Hard of hearing. What does any of this have to do with me?”

“Your name is on a list of people who’ve received complaints.”

“What complaints?”

“I can’t share that. But I thought, ‘Well, I know Carmen. She sometimes brings my two boys to my Bible fellowship’s meetings when my ex can’t make it, so I can help cross her off the list.’ That way we can focus on the real bad guys.”

“That’s
sweet of you, Peter. As you can see, I’m just here working and trying to make ends meet. Just like everyone else these days.”

Peter stepped past the deputy and inspected the desk. “It’s been a roller-coaster year. We all need to watch out for each other. It’s why I became a cop.”

“But you’re not a cop. Deputy Jerry here is. You’re just on a ride-along. During the day you work for your

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