“Perfect! Just perfect! Sunday night with broken pipes!"
“Go ahead, Mom. Say 'shit.' "
“Shit!”
It didn't help. But it made Todd yelp with laughter.
“Mrs. Pargeter, may I speak with Bruce." After a short pause, Bruce answered.
“Bruce, it's Jane Jeffry. I hate myself for asking this — I really know all about keeping pipes from freezing and I left the water running, but Katie didn't know and turned it off and what I don't know is where the little handle to turn the flow off is. I've been slogging around in the basement—" She could hear her voice rising to an hysterical squeak but couldn't help it.
“I'll find the shut-off valve for you," Bruce said calmly. "Can't fix the pipe tonight though."
“But we'll have other water, right?"
“Maybe. I'll have to see the system.”
Jane stomped around, looking for another flashlight as hers was already going dim and she was afraid to turn on the basement light. Water and electricity didn't go together well, she'd heard. Bruce arrived quickly and seemed quite confident that it was no big deal, even though he hadn't looked over the situation yet.
“Why's it dark down here?" he asked at the head of the basement stairs. Jane started to explain her understanding of electricity, but Bruce laughed, flipped on the basement light and went down the steps. He was back in less than five minutes.
“You're lucky. That guest bath is an addition to the original plan and has its own shut-off valve. I'll get back in the morning and fix it."
“I have water everywhere else? What a relief! Oh, Bruce, I'm so thankful.”
He brushed off her thanks. "I finished up Mrs. Newton's kitchen today and nobody usually wants anything done over the holidays except emergencies like this. Glad to do it. See you tomorrow.”
Weak with relief, Jane went to the comfort of her favorite squashy chair in the living room and collapsed. It was horrible to contemplate how much worse it might have been. A houseful of kids, last-minute holiday activities, and no water! Yikes!
It was Sunday night and she deserved to veg out. She wondered what was on Masterpiece Theatre. It was a measure of how hectic life had been the last couple days that she couldn't remember. She hoped it was something very soothing. A Jane Austen movie, maybe. She glanced at her watch and was surprised that it was only six-thirty. She looked around for the television controller, loathe to get up again even — to turn the set on. Not on the coffee table. Not at the side of the chair. She leaned forward and fished around underneath the front of the chair, then remembered that the last time she'd lost it, it was down in the plump cushions. Ah, there it was.
No, it wasn't. The hard plastic object she pulled out was a computer disk.
The missing disk? It wasn't one of hers. She only bought the brightly colored ones. This one was black. And unlabeled.
She hoisted herself out of the chair with effort and dialed Mel's number to leave a message. She was surprised that he answered. "Didn't you go out to dinner with your mother?" she asked, momentarily distracted from her purpose.
“I begged off and I'm in deep trouble. But I was cold clear through and would have died soon if I hadn't soaked in a hot bath. What's up?”
Jane reported what she'd found.
“Is it the one we're looking for?" he asked. "I imagine so. It's not one of mine. And it's not a game disk. There's no label."
“I'll be right over," he said with a martyred sigh.
Jane hung up, stood for a moment in thought, and went down to boot up her computer.
Twenty-one
Before Mel could pull himself together and get over to pick up the disk, Jane's doorbell rang. It was Ginger, all bundled up and looking perky.
“I'm here for our interview," she said.
Jane didn't invite her in. "Ginger, I'm not doing an interview. Period. I told you that.”
“But I thought—"
“No, I made it very clear the first time you asked. You couldn't have misunderstood. And I'm really sorry, but I can't invite you in. I'm busy.”
Ginger looked surprised, but not offended. "Well, you win some, you lose some. Did the police find the disk?"
“No, they didn't," Jane said truthfully. She was glad Ginger hadn't phrased the question "Has the disk been found?"
“Okay," Ginger agreed a little too readily. "I'll work on another angle.”
Jane shut the door on her and watched through the little window in it as Ginger headedfor her car. Mel turned into the driveway just then and Ginger changed course. Apparently she was questioning him and he was making "no comment" gestures. She accepted this rejection as well in apparent good spirits.
Jane was standing at the door with the disk in hand when he reached her.
“You're sure this is the right one?" he asked. "No, I'm just sure it's not mine. And it was in the chair he flung himself into the night he was here.”
Mel looked miserably cold and tired as he trudged back to his car with the disk in his pocket.
Jane raced for the phone. "Shelley! I found the disk. It was in my favorite chair in the living room. Down in the cushions."
“Have you called Mel?"
“He just picked it up."
“Oh," Shelley said with disappointment. "I was hoping we could take a quick look at it before you turned it over."
“We can. I made a copy of it."
“Jane! You're brilliant!”
Shelley arrived seconds later, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. "Pop it in your computer. Let's see what's on it.”
They headed for the basement.
“What's the water over by the laundry room door?" Shelley asked.
“Broken pipe," Jane said. Half an hour ago this was a crisis; now she was hardly interested enough to answer the question.
Jane punched a few keys and produced a list of the files on the disk. "Oh, good, he's saved these in the same word processing program that I have. That'll make it easier." She punched a few more keys and sat back smugly while the computer clicked and hummed. Then a screen she'd never seen before came up.
PASSWORD: