2 The Dante Connection by Estelle Ryan

in to one of those sites, he’s mine. I will find him again.”
    “Didn’t he find you too?” My question brought a scowl to her bruised face.
    “Yes. But not by remotely hacking my system. He had to have broken into my place. I will get that son of a bitch. I would just like to know how and why he targeted me.”
    “Wait,” I said, thinking of all she had told us. It was outrageous in its improbability and lack of facts. “Two weeks ago your great-uncle goes on holiday and his place is robbed. You suspect something, hack into the security company’s computer system to find that they had already been hacked. Somehow the hacker now knows you know. He breaks into your super-secret apartment to get physical access to your computer, which he hacked. He then uses that information to lure you to a party to kill you.”
    “Exactly!” She sat up. “So you agree with me that there is a conspiracy.”
    “What conspiracy?” I squinted. “Wait, I didn’t agree to anything. I’m merely considering the feasibility of this presumed sequence of events. I also wonder why you were considered enough of a threat to eliminate. I don’t see a conspiracy.”
    “Well, I think that there is some conspiracy and I plan to find it.”
    “So where do I fit into all this? Why am I in danger?” I asked, thinking about her incoherent ramblings on the way to the hospital and her earlier proclamation.
    She glanced at Col in. I didn’t see his expression, but hers told me that I wasn’t going to hear the real reason. “My gut is telling me that the hacking into my uncle’s security company and the hacking of your company is connected. And before you shout at me, I know you don’t believe in gut feelings, but my gut has never been wrong.”
    “I don’t shout.”
    She smiled. “No, you don’t. But you do get offended at anything that is not factual. I promise you that I will find that facts to prove that my gut is right. Until then you just have to be careful.”
    “Why did you hack into my computer initially?” I asked.
    She squirmed a little and exhibited more nonverbal signs of discomfort. “Um, I, um, have to know what is happening in the lives of the people I care for. I just check every now and then to make sure that you are safe.”
    “Do all of you think I need protection?” I asked through clenched teeth. “I have seven years of self-defence training, I have a superior intellect. I might not function so well socially, but I am not completely useless.”
    “None of us think that you are, Jenny.” Colin rested his elbows on his knees and looked intently at me. “When people care about someone, they will do anything and everything to protect that person.”
    “But I don’t need protection.”
    “This douche just tried to kill me,” Francine said. “He’s been in your system, so yes. I think that you need protection.”
    “Jenny, look at what we have so far.” Colin was using his reasonable tone. “Burglaries that show similarities, a red flower at each crime scene tying them together, a hacker who got not only into the security company’s system, but also yours and Francine’s. It also looks as if all the burglaries were ordered, as if someone is behind this all. Think, Jenny.”
    I pressed my fingers against my temples. I didn’t want this to be true, but Colin was right. “Fine. I’ll concede that it looks like this might be a syndicate. But there is still so much we don’t know. So far there is nothing that connects the victims. I looked through all the police reports today and there is nothing similar. Except that these houses were supposed to be protected and that the most valuable artwork in the house was stolen.”
    We started arguing back and forth about what was known about the case. I got bored after ten minutes. After fifteen I withdrew into my head. Maybe a few pages of mentally written Mozart would make that connection that had been knocking at my consciousness since this afternoon. A breath