You Think You Know Me Pretty Well aka Mercy by David Kessler Page B

had changed and allowed their customers to use a name followed by “@compuserve.com.” The trouble was that many customers had the same name, so they had to resort to letters and numbers. Thus one John Smith might become [email protected], but another might have to become [email protected].
    He tried “dorothyolsen” as the user ID, reasoning that she’d be more likely to use her full name. But it didn’t offer him a password reminder. It simply flashed up a message that said “Invalid User ID.” He followed up with “dolsen,” but again drew a blank. Various others along those same lines followed, including both names backward and various name and number combinations like “dolsen1,” “dolsen01,” “DOlsen,” etc. But every time he was greeted by the same message: “Invalid User ID.”
    After a while he was cut off because of “too many attempts” and he had to log on from another computer. But the screen reply remained stubbornly the same.
    He took the opportunity to go out and get some sandwiches. But when he came back, all he could do was try more permutations of her name and random numbers, constantly having to break off when he found himself greeted by the “too many attempts” message.
    He knew that this was no way to go about it. His approach was about as unscientific as it could be. The trouble was, there was no mathematical solution. But there might just be a psychological one. He knew that if he was to make any progress, he was going to have to get inside Dorothy’s mind.
     
     
     

14:08 PDT
     
    Juanita took a deep breath of fresh air as she left the building. She felt a bit guilty taking an outside lunch. There was still so much work to be done. But there was someone else covering the office, and they had reached an impasse. There was no point sitting round waiting for the phone to ring. Plus she was going stir-crazy. She needed a break from the confinement.
    So she made her way to the deli, grabbed a tray and stood in line. She looked round, wondering what she was even doing there. It wasn’t hunger that had drawn her out of the office; it wasn’t even boredom. It was tension. But even tension wasn’t the right word. It was frustration – the frustration of trying to do a job and knowing that it was an uphill struggle. Fighting the good fight was all very well. But some battles are over before they’ve even begun.
    She took a Caesar salad and mineral water from the refrigerated unit and moved along the line to pay.
    As she carried her tray to her favorite table in the corner, she told herself that she wouldn’t be long.
    Favorite , she thought wryly. Normally she wouldn’t be eating here at all. She’d buy a take-out and eat it at her desk. But on this occasion the strain was too much and she’d needed a break.
    She played round with her salad, but hardly ate a bite.
    What she didn’t realize, in her self-absorbed state, was that through the plate glass window of the deli, she was being watched.
     
     
     

14:13 PDT
     
    “I had a visit from Dorothy’s brother back at the office.”
    “Well whoop-de-do!” Burrow mocked. “And how is the wimp?”
    The look on Alex’s face was as neutral as a seasoned poker player. But Burrow seemed to realize that he’d overstepped the mark.
    “I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t make fun of him.”
    Had the sarcasm been a glimpse of the “old” Burrow coming through the camouflage, Alex wondered. Or was it just the tension and fear taking its toll on the condemned man?
    The prison guards had gone through the preliminaries even more quickly this time, or at least it had seemed that way to Alex. Just as well because Alex was working against the clock.
    “I was wondering why you singled out Dorothy. Was there any particular reason for it or was she just an easy target?”
    “Is there ever an easy target?”
    Burrow was looking down at his hands, clearly despondent.
    “I’ve seen pictures of her, you know. She