Chapter 12: Interview

"My name is Ted Halenkamp. I graduated from the University of Science and Technology in Aeryn with a degree in Electronic Computing. While I was in school, I did quite a few internships. After graduating, I joined a tech company as a programmer. Over the next two years, I developed several programs on my own and was named an outstanding employee. Then I got into a car accident and had to return to my hometown to recover. I've recovered now and I'm back looking for work. I hope you'll give me a chance," I said seriously. "Was it Spread Network-the one on your résumé-that you worked for?" the manager asked. "That's right." "You used to be a programmer. Why are you applying for a network administrator position now?" "I was out of the loop for two years. Since coming back, a couple of tech companies reached out, but the salary they offered was too low. Besides, programming can be pretty monotonous, and you end up working overtime almost every day-it leaves me with almost no time to myself. I want to switch to something more interesting. But don't worry, I'm confident in my skills. I can handle the duties of a network administrator." She nodded slightly, shifted in her chair, and crossed her legs again. As she shifted and her legs parted a bit, I accidentally caught a glimpse up her skirt-a flash of red lace. My eyes lingered for a split second. She seemed to notice where I had looked. She gave a chilly, annoyed snort, annoyance flickering across her face. I quickly looked away. We talked a bit longer, but she didn't offer anything concrete. At last, she said, cool as ice, "I get the picture, but I'm sorry, Mr. Halenkamp. I don't think you're a good fit for our position. You should try your luck with other companies." "All right. Thank you." We stood up together. Only then did I realize how striking her figure was. As she rose, the fullness at her chest gave a small, undeniable bounce; her hips were round and high, her long legs sheathed in sheer black stockings. Every line drew the eye. Disappointment gnawed at me. I had already sat through no fewer than ten interviews. If I hadn't needed a job urgently to get through a cash crunch, I wouldn't have settled for applying to a small company's network administrator job. I couldn't figure it out. I had the skills, and I wasn't asking for much. Why turn me down? Was it because I accidentally saw something I shouldn't have, and that pissed her off? At that point, it seemed like the only explanation. As I stepped out through the front doors, two female employees brushed past me. I overheard their conversation as they passed. "I heard Ms. Santee had already brought her brother in to be our network administrator. So why bother posting the job online and interviewing people?" "To put on a show for the higher-ups and the staff, obviously." "She sure knows how to put on a show. Never thought that battle-ax would use her position to play favorites." Their voices faded, but I froze for a moment. Jayla Santee was the one who had just interviewed me. No wonder she rejected me so decisively. There was another reason. It stung, but there was nothing I could do. I had to keep looking. At noon, I ducked into a cheap, no-frills noodle shop and grabbed a quick bite. I thought of what had happened with Marlee on the bus that morning, and desire stirred again. I pulled out my phone and hacked into Marlee's phone. I saw several calls she'd made to Ezra that went unanswered last night and this morning. There was also a WhatsApp message she had sent him that morning: "Where did you go last night? Why didn't you pick up my calls? Call me back when you see this." So Ezra hadn't come home last night. No wonder she'd taken the bus this morning. It looked like he still hadn't returned her calls. Who knows where he went? Of course, that was their business, not mine. What I wanted was Marlee's body. Just as I finished eating, a new message popped up on Marlee's phone. It was from the balding middle-aged man again. "Hello, Ms. Casson. I've been thinking about you lately. Have you been thinking about me? That punk ruined things last time. What a pity. So I want to find somewhere quiet where we can talk, just the two of us. There's the Shanton Hotel near Nova Hospital-it's pretty nice. Ten o'clock tonight. I'll be waiting at the hotel. Call me when you get here!" Marlee took several seconds to reply, probably reeling from shock and anger. "That's enough. I'm not coming!!!" "Don't forget I still have those photos. You know what happens if you don't agree." "You despicable, shameless beast!" "You shameless bastard-you're a beast!" "Isn't a beast exactly what you like? You were so wet when I touched you that night. You must have enjoyed it." He capped it with two smug emojis. Marlee didn't reply again, but I knew full well that for the sake of her reputation and her family, she might be forced to compromise. I fell silent, thinking. That creep just wouldn't leave her alone. Before, I wouldn't have felt a thing. If anything, I would have found it exciting. But I was close to my own goal now. I wasn't going to let anyone mess it up halfway through. If Marlee gave in to another man, someone who wasn't her husband or me, it would really bother me. Given my skills, helping her erase those photos was no problem at all. But I couldn't approach her and offer to help. That might expose the fact that I had been monitoring her. After mulling it over, I decided to work behind the scenes and tail her quietly, like last time. That evening, I arrived early at the Shanton Hotel and hid behind a car near the entrance to keep watch. I wore a baseball cap and glasses so that even if they saw me, Marlee and the balding guy wouldn't recognize me. Around nine, a familiar, heavyset figure walked through the hotel's revolving door. It was the balding middle-aged man I had seen before. I waited ten minutes, figured he'd checked in, and got to work. There were two ways to break into someone's phone or computer. One was to get onto the Wi‑Fi and, using his phone number, monitor everything on his phone-though I wouldn't be able to listen to audio or control the camera. The other was my custom Trojan. If I sent it to the target and he tapped it, everything on his device would be laid bare to me, just like when I controlled Marlee's phone last time. To be safe, I skipped the Trojan and used the first method. I got into the balding man's phone quickly. He was on an iPhone. His Apple ID clearly showed his name: Brock Zimmerman. No sooner had I gained access than I saw him text Marlee: "Baby, I'm here already. I'm in Room 5021-I'll be waiting." A few seconds later, Marlee replied: "If I agree to meet, will you delete the photos in front of me and swear you'll never harass me again?" "Relax. I just want one more taste of you. When we're done, I promise I'll delete them and leave you alone." Marlee didn't answer. I immediately combed through Brock's camera roll, but after a long search, I still couldn't find the photos he was using to threaten her. Strange. Maybe the photos weren't on his phone. As I was puzzling over it, I spotted a familiar face at the hotel entrance-white blouse, black stretch jeans. It was Marlee.