Indian Pipes by Cynthia Riggs

“When we were last here, it read ‘Fatal Error’ in white letters on a blue background. I remember because it seemed so macabre. Now it’s blank.”
    “No wonder. The CPU is gone.”
    “CPU?” Victoria turned to her granddaughter.
    “The central processing unit, the box the monitor sits on. It has the hard drive in it. It’s gone.”

C HAPTER 10
     
    “What are you talking about?” asked Victoria.
    “The guts of the computer. The hard drive contains everything.”
    “Perhaps Howland Atherton took it away. I asked Casey to have him look at the computer, but she didn’t.”
    “Maybe she changed her mind,” said Elizabeth.
    “If Howland were to take just that box, he wouldn’t need the monitor or keyboard, would he?”
    “He wouldn’t need these particular ones,” said Elizabeth, pointing to the blank screen and the keyboard. “He could borrow someone else’s to read the files.”
    “I’m sure he’d have said something to me if he’d taken it.” Victoria studied the desk where the base had been. “Could the unit be carried on a motorcycle?”
    Elizabeth lifted her shoulders. “I guess so, although it would be awkward. Maybe Junior Norton took it?”
    “Casey’s sergeant wouldn’t have taken something without informing her. And Casey would have told me.” Victoria shook her head. “We’d better get busy. We don’t have much time before dark.”
    She started a systematic search, for what, she wasn’t sure. Any clue to Hiram’s whereabouts. Had he left something here? She looked in places where she herself might have left something, next to the telephone book, by the dictionary, beside a picture. Before it became any darker, she would need to go down the aisles of Jube’s collections, see if she could find any trace of Hiram. She didn’t want to go upstairs to the second floor, and she certainly didn’t want to draw attention by turning on lights.
    “He has a cordless phone,” Elizabeth said, lifting the instrument out of its cradle.
“Phew!
The smell is really getting to me.” She fanned her hand in front of her face. “I bet he programmed numbersinto the phone.” She slid a panel on the back of the instrument and found a list of names.
    Victoria stopped her search briefly to look.
    “The first two are the governor’s office and the Environmental Protection Agency,” said Elizabeth. “A couple of other numbers like MIT and Wampanoag headquarters.”
    Victoria continued her search, moving away from the computer table, examining items that larded the stacks.
    “One is for Harley. Any idea who that might be?” asked Elizabeth.
    “Perhaps the elder niece, Harriet. The one who lives with the motorcyclist.”
    “I suppose he rides a Harley. Cute.” Elizabeth made a face. “The next one is Linda. The other niece?”
    “The younger.” Victoria stood with arms crossed.
    “Here’s one for Bugs.”
    “I have no idea what that would be.” Victoria scanned the piles on either side of her, then retraced her steps down one of the side passages.
    “I’m going to call.” Elizabeth pressed a number.
    Victoria started to tell her not to, when someone answered. She could hear, even across the room, a man’s raspy voice, “Bugs here.”
    Elizabeth hung up quickly.
    “That was
not
a good idea,” Victoria said. “What did you hope to learn from that?”
    “I don’t know. He sounded like something out of a 1940s gangster movie.”
    The phone rang. They looked at each other.
    “Don’t answer,” said Victoria, but Elizabeth had already picked up the phone. Before she answered, the voice on the other end said, loud enough for Victoria to hear, “What do you want, Burkhardt? Better be important.”
    “I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said in a small voice. “I must have dialed the wrong number.”
    “Wait a minute, lady. I dialed star sixty-nine, and it rang Burkhardt’s number. You want to explain?”
    “I’m sorry,” she murmured, and hung up.
    “Well,” said Victoria.