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When six o’clock came, Matt had to force himself to keep the meeting he’d set up. Flying quickly through the garish big-business sector of the Net, he only slowed when he approached the dead storage area. Matt went in carefully, activating the icons for his best dirty-work detectors. The programs found nothing out of place.

Sighing, he slid into the interior of the virtual structure — the dark, echoing warehouse space created by the mystery hacker.

Father Flannery was there ahead of him, standing in the cone of light from one of the overhead lamps. The priest hadn’t bothered to don his Spike Spanner proxy. Matt acknowledged the decision with a wry smile. He hadn’t come as Monty Newman, either.

“It’s a couple of minutes after six,” Flannery said, looking at his watch. “How long do you want to allow for people to straggle in?”

Even as he spoke, two more figures suddenly appeared. Matt recognized Kerry Jones. The girl beside him had to be Suzanne Kellerman. Instead of the pert, brown-haired Maura Slimm. Suze Kellerman was tall and blond — and if she’d ever had any of the fictional sleuthette’s wise-cracking spirit, it had worn thin in the last few days.

“Both of us have quarterly exams we should be studying for,” Jones growled. Apparently, he’d been elected as the couple’s spokesperson. “I hope you people won’t waste—”

He looked around. “Where’s Derbent?”

“He won’t be coming.” Matt tried to keep his face calm as he made his report. “Not only was his house burned down, but he was injured, too.” He had to look away. “From what I hear, he isn’t — he won’t—”

“Oh, Lord!” Father Flannery was blessing himself when Matt turned back.

Suze Kellerman stared at him with wide blue eyes. Jones’s big, genial face looked grim, his mouth a thin white line.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Hunter, but this time you’ve gone too far. Calling us here to boast about what you did—”

“What are you saying?” Father Flannery burst out.

“I’m saying that computer-boy over there fits the classic profile for a hacker — someone whose technical ability outstrips his conscience and maturity,” Jones accused. “You made a big mistake this time with your order — excuse me, your invitation. You signed it.”

Matt stared at him for a moment, reining in his temper before he spoke. In his experience, answers that began, “Listen, Barfbrain!” usually caused more trouble than they were worth.

“I signed the virtmail so you’d know I wasn’t the hacker,” he finally said. “There’s some stuff you ought to hear — information that didn’t or won’t make the news.”

“Information you managed to find out…somehow.” Kerry Jones managed to make the simple statement sound like an accusation.

“Father Flannery knows I’m with the Net Force Explorers,” Matt began. “I pulled a few strings on our behalf.”

“Net Force is tracking down whoever’s behind this?”

Hating to kill the fragile look of hope shining on Suze Kellerman’s face, Matt gently said, “I’ve tried to bring them in, but as far as Net Force is concerned, there’s no actual evidence of any Net crime committed.” He glanced at Jones. “I did talk to an agent — which you can verify—”

“Count on it,” Jones bluntly replied.

“Anyway, he got an advance look at the report from the fire investigators.” Matt went on to pass on what Winters had told him.

“Wait a minute!” Father Flannery protested. “We both saw those lamps — if you can call it seeing, considering the dim light they threw. No way on earth could either of them have been burning the bulb you’re talking about.”

“Just as I said to the Net Force agent.” Matt tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. “I’ll pass along the answers he gave me, which he got from the fire investigators — a replacement bulb, a mistake—”

“Could he have had the lights dim on purpose that day?” Suze suggested. “Maybe he was hiding his face—”

Matt shook his head. “Not likely. Derbent had no idea we were coming—” He broke off. “Unless one of you contacted him while we were on the way.”

The college kids shook their heads. “Kerry told me about your visit when I came out of class — that’s across campus from our dorm.”

Jones nodded. “I beat feet over there as soon as you guys left.”

“Besides, we saw Derbent’s face clearly,” Flannery put in. “When he answered the door, he stood in the sunshine. You can’t call that hiding.”

“Speaking of hiding — or at least, of information a person wouldn’t like to get out — one of our detective colleagues had a past.” Matt hadn’t been sure how he’d handle the information about Harry Knox. Now he made up his mind — full disclosure.

When he finished, Suze Kellerman blinked in bafflement. “Then, Krantz — I mean, Knox — was the hacker. But he’s dead. So why are we still getting complaints about hacking?” She pulled out a piece of paper that was all too familiar — a virtual copy of the letter Matt had received that afternoon.

From the way Father Flannery reacted, he’d received the same sort of mail. The priest gave them a sour smile. “If this were a mystery story, the villain would have knocked off Saunders to keep him from exposing his identity along with everyone else’s. Knox, because of his own hacker background, would have somehow realized who the hacker was and be trying to blackmail.”

“Nice theory.” Jones barely kept the sneer out of his voice. “But it doesn’t explain what happened to Derbent, does it?”

“Have you got a better explanation?” Matt challenged.

The college guy was definitely wearing his game face as he scowled at Matt and Flannery. “There are two choices here. Either the things that have happened really are all accidents, or somebody’s making them happen.” Jones took Suze Kellerman’s hand. “If they aren’t accidents, from what I see, that means one of you two is a killer.”

For a second Matt glanced at Father Flannery. The priest was outraged. Then Matt swung back to look at Jones. You know what they say, he thought. The best defense is a strong offense.

Suze unexpectedly broke the standoff. “I don’t know what is going on here,” she confessed, her voice shaking. “Coincidence, or — whatever.”

Then she began to cry. “I–I just want it to stop!”

Matt silently watched as Jones folded his arms around Suze, trying to comfort her. Father Flannery’s face was a little pinker — obviously, he empathized with the girl.

If that’s acting, she has some major awards in her future, Matt thought.

Kerry Jones had some tissues out and was trying to coax Suze back to calmness. Right now, he didn’t look like someone who could pull off a string of cold-blooded “accidents” to hide his guilt.

Jones was right about one thing. The circle of suspects kept shrinking and shrinking. And none of the people left struck Matt as likely cold-blooded, efficient killers. What did that leave them with, then? A nasty set of coincidences heightened by paranoia and scary letters from lawyers?

Matt shook his head as if a tiny buzzing insect were trapped in his ear. No! There was a hacker — or, perhaps, there had been one among the sim participants.

Still sniffling, Suze took her boyfriend’s hand. Jones glared furiously at Matt as the two of them disappeared.