[8] Excavating the Overburden

“Sooo,” Mark drawled, when he arrived at work the next morning. Setting a cup of coffee from his favorite coffee house on the desk for Teri, he waggled his brows. “Some pretty intense stuff was going on between you and Erikson last night. He was walking on air leaving the restaurant. Spill already!”

Teri’s eyes flicked up briefly from her coding, fixing Mark where he stood. “I thought you said he stands you up all the time.”

At the hint of annoyance in her tone, Mark’s brows shot up. Though most of what he knew of Jim was from Carla, in his gut he’d been positive he and Teri would hit it off.

While it certainly wasn’t his place to say, between the single-minded devotion to her daughter and the significant investment in at least this work project, Teri left herself little time for a life outside either. With someone as brilliant and beautiful as her, it seemed a terrible shame.

Mark hadn’t intended to offend Teri. What he’d actually hoped would happen was the polite attention of the charming and attractive Jim would flatter her out of her shell, make her see there was so much more to enjoy. Her reaction was confusing.

“Most of the time he does. This is only the second time he’s ever joined us,” Mark replied, qualifying, “He lives nearby that restaurant though, so maybe that’s why he opted in.”

Proximity, Teri thought derisively, breathing deep. Her persistent and powerful nemesis where Jim was involved.

I shouldn’t have called him, she chastised herself. How stupid can I get? What was the worst that would’ve happened? He might’ve called me? Why was it so hard to think clearly around him? What mystical mind-control was he wielding that she couldn’t keep things in perspective the minute she was in visual range of that hunky body and captivating smile?

“I got the impression you two liked each other. Or at least, Jim liked you. That’s not bad, is it?”

Teri’s fingers froze on the keyboard, her eyes staring blankly at the code on the monitor before her.

Proximity.

Maybe it wasn’t her enemy.

After all, she was in charge of her life’s coding. Teri looked up at Mark again. Forgetting his naive comment and rhetorical question if she’d even heard either in the first place, she confirmed, “He lives nearby?”

Again, Mark’s brows shot up, this time at her sudden reversal.

A woman with her IQ, that, more than anything, was a dangerous sign. He shrugged, nodding in a non-committal way. “Well, it’s Moab. Everything’s sort of nearby, but yeah, to my knowledge, yeah. Carla said he lives near the museum. I don’t know exactly where.”

“Museum. Which museum?”

“I took you by it. The one by the sheriff’s station.” He left the doorframe to return a moment later, his coffee in hand, retrieved from his desk. “The Moab Museum.” 

The one she and Zoe had visited the same day she’d seen Jim while jogging. “Ah.” Teri's focus returned to her coding momentarily. Skimming the lines rapidly, she typed out the last missing commands, then copied the text into an email. “Would you run this encryption script in the POE test environment, please? Let me know if it triggers any errors.”

“Sure, boss-lady.” Taking a sip from his coffee, Mark turned to take a seat at his desk outside her office, then paused. “I’m sorry if bumping into Jim upset you. I had no idea you two knew each other.”

Teri scanned Mark’s worried face. She smiled comfortingly. “There was no way you could have.”

When Mark disappeared outside her door, Teri switched laptop applications, determined to scope out her mounting suspicions.

Near the museum by the sheriff’s office, she thought, loading a local map inside a different application and quickly pinning the two buildings, letting the app calculate the distance from the hospital to the furthest. She chose a radius from the hospital that encompassed both, then boosted the signal on her little black device.

Across her monitor, multi-colored lines of data began pouring in as the device’s antenna intercepted the Wi-Fi signals sent from the laptops, desktops, smartphones, and tablets in the widened captive area.

Teri needed information for only one. She entered her own phone number as search criteria, expecting her phone and three others as hits. Within moments, her initial search had identified four additional lines besides her own, associated in some way with her number, most likely through contact lists.

Curious, she thought, one brow arched. Another brief command consolidated the data from the four devices into individual quarters on her laptop's touchscreen. One connection was just outside her office. Mark of course, she confirmed easily by checking the number associated with the device. Swiping its feed from the touchscreen, she discarded that one, then paused, staring at the collecting data from the remaining three.

Two, she had anticipated, both of whom she'd reluctantly but voluntarily given her number. One signal from Dr. Johansen was located by the GPS nearby the hospital campus. Probably at some offsite administrative meeting or clinic, and Teri dismissed it without much attention.

The second from Jim Erikson, as Mark had suggested, was near the museum just within her search radius, with the unrecognized third device not far from it.

Momentarily debating disgarding Dr. Johansen’s feed as she had Mark's, Teri paused. Vastly more captured application data was scrolling past from his phone than the other two combined.

Curious, she thought. While any given individual might depend on a particular device more than another-- such as with Jim's two phones-- few would amass the volume of Dr. Johansen's. There was only so much one person could do at one time, even if he was a doctor.

Plus, the accumulating data from Johansen's phone was nothing she might have predicted.

To her surprise, she saw one app sending personal information, location data, various technical specifications, and information about the Wi-Fi network from Dr. Johansen’s phone. Additionally, there were multiple, bizarre internet queries about rekeying or picking a specific type of lock, all of the searches associated with the SLPRN-HOME network she’d seen months ago when she’d bid for this job.

As she watched, a series of instant messages passed between Dr. Johansen and a user on the hospital network. SPREST. Teri made a mental note to check the User ID but was instantly distracted by the messages.

JOHANS: Did you get the key

SPREST: Not yet. That rude charge is on today. She keeps giving me the worst patients

JOHANS: I don’t care how rude she is. You have one job. Keep your mouth shut and do it

SPREST: If you don’t like the job I’m doing, get it yourself

JOHANS: Don’t get smart. Withdrawal will be ugly when I cut your scripts

SPREST: I hate you

JOHANS: Get that key

Teri leaned against the back of her chair, slim arms relaxed along the rests, watching Dr. Johansen’s data scroll up her screen.

‘Cut your scripts’? Did he mean prescriptions? Dr. Johansen was communicating via instant message with someone he was treating? Someone who worked here. Someone personally familiar, by the heated words within the exchange. And key to what? What key might be assigned to a charge nurse that would benefit someone outside the hospital? Why wouldn't Dr. Johansen have access to such a key himself?

Given Johansen’s reaction to Teri's demonstration in April, she’d expected he’d secure his device, but that didn’t appear to be the case. Perhaps he anticipated she would no longer be monitoring the internet traffic, though it hadn’t been prohibited by her original contract, or even the amended one she’d signed for the Board.

Teri ran her finger along her bottom lip, scanning the lines. The touch reminded her of Jim’s kisses and a rush of heat flooded her. He was the reason she’d started this process, not Johansen.

Still, instinctively Teri knew there was something peculiar about Johansen’s internet usage data. She typed a new command, logging the details of his connections into a file on her desktop to deal with later, then focused on the remaining two feeds.

Of the two, the one she knew to be Jim’s— the number he’d given her last night— was actually registered to an archaeological aviation company. Though the name seemed familiar, she couldn’t place where she might have seen it. Regardless, archaeology—a reasonable connection for Jim, even if not a personal one.

There was little happening on the smartphone, just a single app updating periodically. Curious, Teri pulled out her phone.

Good morning, she texted to Jim on that number. Setting her phone aside, she focused on the other feed.

Another smartphone, this one was registered to Jim.

His personal phone then, to which he’d added her number.

Without hacking him, Teri could see this device was much more active, regularly refreshing several apps—one for a local search and rescue, personal and professional email accounts, a social bookmarking website.

The latter made her feel like a voyeur.

In a matter of seconds, she saw Jim’s detailed personal biography—where he was born, where he studied and what degrees he possessed, personal interests and hobbies. Among his personal preferences, the app bookmarked an online page of astronomy photography, recorded that he'd lately visited Thailand and Laos, and showed a recent and remarkable interest in websites offering tips on how to revive a relationship with an ex.

Teri sighed, ashamed of herself, then startled when the text alert chimed on her phone. She glanced at the message preview, unsurprised to see it was a reply from Jim.

Hello Gorgeous. How’s your day starting?

As she reached for the phone to respond, a new app on Jim’s personal device connected to her hostage internet. She recognized it immediately, aghast.

It was a cellphone tracking app that allowed the user to pin a targeted device’s location using the phone number. Stunned, she watched the app connect, retrieving her phone’s GPS location and the hospital’s address.

Jim was tracking her.

An emotional avalanche hurtled over Teri, burying her beneath it. She leaned her elbows on the desk, her head in her hands, lodged and trembling under the impassioned onslaught.

“Hey, so most of it worked but it’s hanging at—whoa. Teri, are you alright?” Mark stood framed in the doorway again, an alphanumeric exception code scribbled on a scrap of paper in his messy handwriting. “You’re pale as a ghost.”

Teri waved a hand dismissively, then extended it with an undisguised tremor towards the paper Mark held. “I’m fine.”

“Uh. Okay.” Mark hesitated, relinquishing the exception code, then staring with increasing concern as Teri set it beside her laptop, swaying slightly. She was not fine. In fact, she was just about as far from fine as she could get, but if she wasn’t going to acknowledge it, what could he do?

With sudden inspiration, he nodded to himself. He could do what he did when Carla was like this. He pulled her door closed behind him as he left, hunkering down at his desk to wait Teri out.

Leaning back in her chair, Teri considered. She could scarcely blame Jim for distrusting her, given their history and plagued by the unanswered questions he’d addressed to her last night, but she wouldn’t have expected a tracking app. From Johansen, perhaps—if he’d been savvy enough to consider it—but not from Jim. Stalking her— or any woman for that matter—seemed beneath him.

On a temporary basis, activating airplane mode would defeat his tracking easily. Long-term, knowing the app he was using, Teri could update protections on her own phone, also effectively blocking tracking if necessary.

But how could she hold Jim accountable for a tracking app when right this very instant she was tracing him in a significantly more detailed personal way? She blanched, nauseated with herself.

Another thought occurred to her then. She typed a command to focus on the app details. The only other phone besides hers Jim located was the one registered to the aviation company. He’d been doing so for the three years he’d owned his second phone. That was odd. Why? Was he prone to misplacing it? Had it or some predecessor device been stolen?

Teri inhaled and exhaled slowly. At least Jim had been using it for something else before. Adding her number was a fresh use, albeit an unethical one.

Then again, who was she to throw stones at glass houses?

Giving herself a mental shake, Teri cleared her search criteria and restored the parameters on her internet hijacking device. Picking up her phone, she responded to Jim.

It’s good. How about you?

Setting the phone aside, Teri glanced at the error Mark had brought her, reopening her earlier code to make edits. A moment later, her phone chimed.

It’s better starting with you. I want to see you tonight, Teri. What time are you off?

Though still bothered about the tracking app, Teri blushed, enjoying the sudden crackling energy that tingled beneath her skin at his words.

What did you have in mind?

If I behave around Carla, I can probably cut out around 3. Care to join me? I have a surprise.

Surprise?

I’ll pick you up at your place.

Wait. Jim’s surprises worried her. Before she could ask for clarification, there was a hard knock on her door, and she dropped the phone with her violent start. Looking up as she retrieved it from the floor, Teri saw her door swing open.

Nick Johansen loomed on the other side.

Beyond him, Teri could see Mark returning to the outer office, chewing a stir stick, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. His boyish face screwed up in a repulsed grimace, and disappointed at the unanticipated visit himself, he mouthed an apology behind the physician.

“Teri! You’re a difficult woman to track down when you’re engrossed in a project. I’m surprised to find you at your desk at all.” Dr. Johansen invited himself in, stopping directly opposite her and Teri had never been more grateful for the physical barrier between her and another person. “I’ve been busy myself lately.”

Behind the doctor, Mark’s expression was a dramatic affectation of agreement. He mouthed: Yeah, right. Teri scarcely kept her polite social mask in order.

“I’ve been hoping to catch you. Let me take you to lunch.” Dr. Johansen stood over her, hands in the pockets of his slacks, waiting, as though Teri would instantly comply.

“Oh. That’s kind of you.” Teri smiled. “I’m actually not hungry right now. Mark brought me a muffin,” yesterday, but what business was it of Johansen’s anyway? she thought, “so I had a late breakfast.”

Unfazed and undeterred, Johansen shrugged. “If Mark has to bring you breakfast to get you to eat, that’s all the more reason you need to join me. I insist.” There was an edge to his voice that brooked no refusal.

Locking her laptop, Teri gathered her phone and clutch reluctantly.

As she came around the desk, Dr. Johansen took her hand, tucking it in the crook of his arm. “I have the perfect place in mind.”

Teri groaned inwardly, expecting a hackneyed comment about her sweet tooth, but Dr. Johansen spoke little as he escorted her through the hospital and to his car. The ride was mercifully short, and she focused on the passing scenery, making small talk about it and the weather.

When the car stopped before another hotel, Teri almost requested they go somewhere else. Once inside, she was relieved to see an open floor plan design, even if their table was in a more secluded part of it.

Though she wanted to wash her hands, Teri was reluctant to allow Johansen the opportunity to order drinks again while she was away. Their waitress brought water and a small basket of bread, then disappeared to get their drink order.

“Thank you for coming with me, Teri.”

She considered him carefully, watching his face for tells. There was a reason she was here. There was always a reason with Nick Johansen. Teri focused on the menu, skimming the options. “It’s generous of you to bring me, but I feel terrible. You’ve already done so much, Dr. Johansen.”

“Nick,” he corrected immediately, focusing almost tenderly on her face. “I’m fond of you, Teri. You know that. You’re a pure spirit. Even when things are the worst for you, you’re kind.” He toyed with the fork in his place setting.

Teri met Johansen’s steely gray eyes over her menu. “Is there something wrong?”

He looked away, then back again. “My wife took our children and returned to her family in Salt Lake.”

Teri let her breath out in a shocked gasp at his personal revelation. “I’m sorry.” Given the circumstances, she struggled to find the right words to say. They all seemed inadequate.

Johansen was staring at her again. “No. It’s entirely my fault. She came from a large family with a lot of support, very powerful in the Mormon church. Moving here, though good for my career, was isolating for her.” He paused, watched as their waitress served a meal at another table. “I took her for granted. I understand now. Too late.”

Finished at the other table, their waitress arrived with their drinks and to take their meal order. Teri winged a thankful prayer for the interruption, the few minutes to think, figure out what to say. She wondered what motivated Johansen to talk to her about it. Though he didn’t seem popular with the other Board members, surely he had other friends.

Their waitress departed with the menus and their orders, leaving Teri feeling starkly exposed. “It’s a small, busy town. Your skills are needed desperately here. I’m certain there was no ill intent. You’re very clever. If anyone can find a way—”

Johansen gave her a weak smile. “I don’t think so. As a man of medicine, I find it difficult to embrace religious beliefs, even if I am tolerant of them. Her family doesn’t like that. It’s a situation I’m certain you’re familiar with.”

A rock dropped jarringly into the pit of Teri’s stomach at his callousness. She nodded, blinking away the hot blinding tears pooling against her lashes. “Yes. I am.” The crippling rush of memories brought a question to her mind. “Did you know Jim Erikson is here?”

Johansen seemed taken aback. “Here? You mean Moab?” When she nodded, he continued. “I hadn’t thought of him in years. Seems like I bumped into him when I was working the ER. He was there with an injured hiker. Part of the local Search and Rescue, I think.” 

Johansen's steely eyes bored into hers, hawklike and sharp, divining the impetus for her question. “You didn’t know he was here.”

Fighting another flood of tears Teri licked her lips uncomfortably, then shook her chestnut head.

Johansen collapsed in an uncomfortable slump against his chair, then let out a long sigh. “Your daughter.” He searched Teri's face. “He doesn’t know.”

A slow tear rolled down one smooth pale cheek in answer, but Teri couldn’t look at him.

With a black rage building in him, Nick Johansen rubbed the scruff along his jaw. Teri belonged to him! He had to get Jim Erickson out of the picture post haste.

Once and for all.

Softening the intensity of his gaze upon her, he handed his napkin across the table. “I’m sorry, Teri. You must have felt blindsided. As if there wasn’t enough you’re dealing with after he left you alone.” Johansen rubbed the back of his neck. “If I’d have known, I’d have fought harder with the Board for more for you.”

Distraught as she was, something essential rang false in his words. The Board? Teri had this conversation with the Board, and it had been clear they weren’t aware of what Dr. Johansen had done regarding her contract.

Teri dabbed her eyes with the napkin, then stared at her knotted hands in her lap while she reigned in her emotions and summoned her logic. What kind of cat and mouse game was going on here? “It’s not your job to look after my family. It’s mine.”

“It was Jim’s!” Johansen snapped loudly sitting up in his chair, then lowered his voice abruptly at her stunned expression. “I can’t begin to explain how continually disappointing he is in his care. The man had everything. A woman like you—,” he reached over the table to brush a drying tear along Teri's cheek with his thumb, “no matter what you’d been through, I’d never have let you go.”

His touch had been cold as granite, and though the words were meant to be tender, they were as hard as granite too. Her reptile brain engaged, pouring adrenaline into her circuitry, urging her to flee. Instead, Teri exhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath at his outburst. “I’m sorry. You came to me for support—.”

“We’re both wounded.” Johansen shrugged. “Perhaps that’s what draws us together.” He leaned as far across the table as he could. “I could be good for you, Teri,” he whispered, his voice menacing and low.

This time it was Teri searching, his expression, his body language, the tone of his voice. 'Be good'? There was more to the words, but she couldn’t understand how.

“I—don’t think—either of us are—in a right state— for that,” she stuttered. Seeing annoyed disappointment on his face, she added quickly, “Right now.”

The sound of dishes rattling preceded their waitress’ return with their lunch. They spoke little after it was served, both processing what they’d learned during this conversation. Teri pushed her food about her plate, barely eating, lost in her own head.

How could Johansen be considering another relationship? If he cared at all for his wife and family, how could he not fight for them? And even if it was over between he and his wife, how could he jump from one woman to the next without any time to recover? 

While she understood different people formed attachments differently, it was a serious red flag when someone couldn’t stand to be alone with themselves.

Where were his friends? Now that she thought about it, Teri had never known him to have friends. But perhaps the dissolution of his marriage was part of that. Divorce could certainly polarize people.

Across from her, Nick Johansen ate heartily. Teri couldn’t fathom how. Perhaps stress didn’t affect his appetite, foreign as that seemed to her.

Then again, her problem was two men chasing her, one who knew too little and the other, too much. Johansen had been rejected by two women, one who knew too much, and she, who knew too little.

The thought made Teri's skin crawl and the urge to flee nearly irresistible.

It was just after one when Johansen left Teri at the IT office with a curt nod. After his outburst during lunch, then her rejection, he had withdrawn, bitter cold settling around him like a gyre of frigid deep ocean water rising to the surface.

Teri felt terrible for how poorly she’d handled herself. On top of the anguished feelings Nick Johansen dredged up with his presence already, the bitter cocktail of his callous remarks and his inappropriate revelation about his failing marriage left a foul taste in her mouth and she felt both guilty and relieved when he’d gone.

Though a plethora of unfinished tasks remained, Teri felt exhausted and wholly unequal to the substantial undertaking. Stepping into the department office when Johansen was out of sight, she glanced at Mark and made for her desk. “I’m not feeling very well.” She deftly packed her laptop and internet device. “I’m going home.”

“Sure, boss-lady. Why don’t I drive you?” Mark offered, rising. Worried for her, he cast a brief glance down the hall the direction Dr. Johansen had gone. “I’ll get Carla to help with your car.”

Teri shook her head, halting before him in the doorway. “It’s a short drive. I’ll be fine, Mark. Thank you.”