he goes out of his way to hurt me — like putting me down here all by myself— just to get even with her."
Joe frowned. He was thinking of the Mr. Chilton he had met, tall, suave, stern. Then he looked around at the bare, bleak workroom. Could Tiffany be right?
Or maybe Tiffany's tears were only an act to get his sympathy. There was no way to be sure.
Tiffany straightened her shoulders. "Thanks for listening," she said sheepishly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I guess I shouldn't have told you, but sometimes I — Well, sometimes it's too much."
Joe nodded sympathetically. Maybe logic worked for Frank, but instinct told Joe where the truth lay. He'd bet his last penny that she wasn't the kind of person to turn to crime for revenge. "Listen, Tiffany, anytime you want to talk, just let me know," he said.
Tiffany looked at him. "You really mean that, don't you?" she said.
Joe nodded. Then his eye fell on something sitting on the corner of Tiffany's desk. He leaned over the counter and picked it up. It was a small circuit board, a type he'd never seen before, but there was something about its configuration that ... Then it clicked. This was the same circuit board that Frank had shown him on the video last night in the hotel room — the one that had been in the package Tiffany had given him to deliver to MUX! He glanced in the upper corner, and there it was. A tiny rectangular chip with the number Z2713 stamped on it.
"What do you use this gadget for?" Joe asked, trying to make his question sound casual.
Tiffany blinked. "It was on my desk when I came back from lunch," she said. "I thought someone meant for me to ship it to one of the other offices, but no instructions came with it. I — "
The phone on Tiffany's desk rang. She picked it up.
"Mailroom. Tiffany speaking."
For a moment Joe didn't pay any attention to Tiffany's conversation. He was intent on the circuit board in his hand.
Then he became aware that there wasn't any telephone conversation. He looked up. Tiffany had gone rigid, her eyes wide, her face drained of color.
"Who are you?" she demanded in a whisper. "Tell me! Who are you?"
From where he stood, Joe heard the distinct click that meant the connection had been broken. For a moment more Tiffany stood silent. Then she started to breathe quickly, almost gasping for air.
"What is it, Tiffany?" he asked. "What's wrong?"
Tiffany's eyes were wide with shock. "I don't believe it!" she choked. "I'm being blackmailed!"
Chapter 9
"Blackmailed!" Joe burst out. "Who was that on the phone ? "
Tiffany sagged into a chair. "I don't know," she said.
Joe's mind raced, the questions coming fast. First he had to know if he was being set up, or if the call was real. "Was it a man or a woman?" he asked.
"I couldn't tell," Tiffany repeated. "The voice sounded like an echo, like it was in a cave or something." Her voice broke. She looked scared. "Whoever it was said I'm in real big trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Joe asked. He studied her. He'd swear this wasn't an act. She was genuinely frightened.
Tiffany hesitated, as though wondering why she should tell him.
"You need help," Joe said urgently. "I can help you."
Tiffany hesitated. Then she shrugged. "Things can't get any worse," she said. "It's that thing you've got in your hand." She pointed at the circuit board Joe was still holding. "It's top secret. The voice on the phone said that they've been pirating stuff like that. Sending it to the competition—out of this mailroom! And if I don't cooperate with them, they'll make it look like I'm the one who's been doing it!"
"What do they want?" Joe asked. "Did they give you any instructions?"
Tiffany buried her face in her hands. "No, nothing," she said. "The voice said there'd be orders for me later."
She dropped her hands and looked up at Joe, tears staining her cheeks. "What am I going to do, Joe? My father will kill me if he thinks I've been helping his competition!" She shook her head,
Joe frowned. He was thinking of the Mr. Chilton he had met, tall, suave, stern. Then he looked around at the bare, bleak workroom. Could Tiffany be right?
Or maybe Tiffany's tears were only an act to get his sympathy. There was no way to be sure.
Tiffany straightened her shoulders. "Thanks for listening," she said sheepishly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I guess I shouldn't have told you, but sometimes I — Well, sometimes it's too much."
Joe nodded sympathetically. Maybe logic worked for Frank, but instinct told Joe where the truth lay. He'd bet his last penny that she wasn't the kind of person to turn to crime for revenge. "Listen, Tiffany, anytime you want to talk, just let me know," he said.
Tiffany looked at him. "You really mean that, don't you?" she said.
Joe nodded. Then his eye fell on something sitting on the corner of Tiffany's desk. He leaned over the counter and picked it up. It was a small circuit board, a type he'd never seen before, but there was something about its configuration that ... Then it clicked. This was the same circuit board that Frank had shown him on the video last night in the hotel room — the one that had been in the package Tiffany had given him to deliver to MUX! He glanced in the upper corner, and there it was. A tiny rectangular chip with the number Z2713 stamped on it.
"What do you use this gadget for?" Joe asked, trying to make his question sound casual.
Tiffany blinked. "It was on my desk when I came back from lunch," she said. "I thought someone meant for me to ship it to one of the other offices, but no instructions came with it. I — "
The phone on Tiffany's desk rang. She picked it up.
"Mailroom. Tiffany speaking."
For a moment Joe didn't pay any attention to Tiffany's conversation. He was intent on the circuit board in his hand.
Then he became aware that there wasn't any telephone conversation. He looked up. Tiffany had gone rigid, her eyes wide, her face drained of color.
"Who are you?" she demanded in a whisper. "Tell me! Who are you?"
From where he stood, Joe heard the distinct click that meant the connection had been broken. For a moment more Tiffany stood silent. Then she started to breathe quickly, almost gasping for air.
"What is it, Tiffany?" he asked. "What's wrong?"
Tiffany's eyes were wide with shock. "I don't believe it!" she choked. "I'm being blackmailed!"
Chapter 9
"Blackmailed!" Joe burst out. "Who was that on the phone ? "
Tiffany sagged into a chair. "I don't know," she said.
Joe's mind raced, the questions coming fast. First he had to know if he was being set up, or if the call was real. "Was it a man or a woman?" he asked.
"I couldn't tell," Tiffany repeated. "The voice sounded like an echo, like it was in a cave or something." Her voice broke. She looked scared. "Whoever it was said I'm in real big trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Joe asked. He studied her. He'd swear this wasn't an act. She was genuinely frightened.
Tiffany hesitated, as though wondering why she should tell him.
"You need help," Joe said urgently. "I can help you."
Tiffany hesitated. Then she shrugged. "Things can't get any worse," she said. "It's that thing you've got in your hand." She pointed at the circuit board Joe was still holding. "It's top secret. The voice on the phone said that they've been pirating stuff like that. Sending it to the competition—out of this mailroom! And if I don't cooperate with them, they'll make it look like I'm the one who's been doing it!"
"What do they want?" Joe asked. "Did they give you any instructions?"
Tiffany buried her face in her hands. "No, nothing," she said. "The voice said there'd be orders for me later."
She dropped her hands and looked up at Joe, tears staining her cheeks. "What am I going to do, Joe? My father will kill me if he thinks I've been helping his competition!" She shook her head,
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