In the elevator, she glanced at Jackson. He’d been silent on the walk down the hallway and now his face held a pensive expression. She had to wonder if his thoughts mirrored hers.

  “Do you think that Scott may have learned something in the visits to these houses that he shouldn’t have known and that’s what got him killed?” she asked.

  “Sounds like a good possibility, and one I intend to explore.”

  The interview with Hugh Reinhardt had been the polar opposite from their questioning of Garrett North. Maybe it was because he knew Maggie, but Jackson suspected Hugh was just a down-to-earth college student working hard to get good grades. He worked with Scott on a couple of homework assignments, and they played basketball together, but that’s all.

  “I hope Wallace can help us.” Maggie pulled open the door for Ridley Hall where they would meet with the computer professor Maggie mentioned.

  Jackson stepped into the air conditioning behind her and took a moment to enjoy the cool air giving them relief from the humid temperatures outside. Temps that weren’t helping in the fight to control forest fires.

  His phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. “Hold up. It’s Alex, and I need to take this.”

  “What’s up?” Jackson answered.

  “Thought you’d like to know Summit’s been quiet all morning, and it looks like the risk to Maggie is low so you can head over here.”

  After the accident and potshot yesterday, Jackson still couldn’t fathom taking her to Summit and leaving her exposed to another shot. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’ll think about it as in a member of our team, or you’ll think about it as a man who’s still got a thing for Maggie?”

  “Goodbye, Alex,” Jackson said pointedly and hung up.

  Maggie ran a jerky hand through her hair. “That was quick.”

  “He just wanted to tell me it’s been quiet at Summit.”

  Excitement raced across her face but was instantly replaced with a skeptical look. “And your comment to him about thinking about it means you haven’t decided that I can go back to work this afternoon.”

  Jackson didn’t want to start a discussion on the subject, so he answered with a quick nod and gestured for her to step over to Wallace’s office.

  She didn’t move and kept her focus pinned to him. “Are you leaning in any direction?”

  He resisted blowing out a long breath in frustration. After all, he didn’t want to encourage more questions. He also wouldn’t tell her that given his choice, he’d put her in a protective bubble, leaving him with avoiding a direct answer. “Let’s wait to make a decision until we find out what your professor has to say.”

  She planted her hands on her trim waist. “He’s not my professor.”

  “Okay,” he said and pointed at Wallace Waverly’s door again. Just the name alone made Jackson think of an old guy with gray hair, but the guy was an assistant professor, so he was more likely a younger man.

  His door was open.

  “Knock, knock,” Maggie said before entering.

  “Maggie! Good to see you. We’ve missed you around here.” The guy sounded far too enthusiastic to see her if she was just a fellow colleague.

  Jackson entered the small office. The man standing behind the desk had his gaze locked on Maggie and didn’t seem to notice Jackson at all. He looked to be in his early forties, tall, thin, with sleeked-down black hair, thick glasses, and an oversized smile. His skinny mustache stretched thin as he beamed at Maggie.

  What kind of guy grew something like that? If you were going to have facial hair, grow a full beard, or a goatee, but not a weaselly little thing that looked like one of his students swiped a marker across his face.

  Wallace was clearly infatuated with her, rubbing Jackson the wrong way. He didn’t like the guy’s lecherous look. Didn’t like it one bit.

  Wallace suddenly turned his gaze on Jackson and gave him a quick once-over, his expression saying he found Jackson wanting.

  Well, bully for him. Jackson didn’t much like the look of Wallace either. Not his pleated khakis and white short-sleeved dress shirt pressed so stiff it would stand up on its own. He’d paired it with a striped tie pulled so tight at the neck Jackson doubted the guy could take a deep breath.

  Maggie introduced them.

  Jackson hid his dislike and shoved out his hand. When Wallace looked down his nose at Jackson, he gripped Wallace’s hand more firmly than needed. Wallace winced, but it was barely noticeable. Jackson had to give the professor credit for not crying out.

  He freed his hand and gestured at the chairs in front of his desk. “You said you were looking for information on hackers.”

  “We are.” Maggie sat and crossed her legs, the delicate sandal on her foot swinging. “And not the ethical kind.”

  Wallace looked horrified and pushed up his glasses. “If we had any black hat hackers in our community, I would have reported them, and they would no longer be students here.”

  “We want to know about anyone who’s shown even a hint of interest in car hacking.” Jackson planted his hands on the back of Maggie’s chair and leaned forward. He waited for her to shoot him a look, but she didn’t move.

  Wallace got the hint though, his body angling away. Jackson was staking his claim. Not that he had a claim to stake, but there was something about this guy that Jackson didn’t like, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of Maggie dating Wallace. Okay, fine, Jackson couldn’t stomach the thought of her dating anyone, but the professor even more so.

  “We’ve discussed hacking in class, of course, but no one has shown an unusual interest in it.” He met Maggie’s gaze. “What’s this all about, Maggie?”

  “Scott Dawson’s murder.”

  “Scott Dawson. Oh…oh…goodness.” He grabbed the knot on his necktie and fidgeted with it.

  “The company I work for has been hired to find the killer.” Jackson pushed off Maggie’s chair and took out a business card. He handed it to Wallace and briefly considered leaning over Maggie again, but Wallace had gotten the point, and Jackson didn’t want to irritate her.

  Then maybe you shouldn’t have done it in the first place.

  Wallace glanced at the card and let it flutter to his desk. “Scott was good friends with Garrett North. Did you talk to him?”

  “We did,” Jackson replied before Maggie revealed any information shared by Garrett. “Did you ever see them together?”

  “Sure. All the time in the lab. They were working on some marketing project for Scott’s independent study.”

  “At least that’s what they told you,” Jackson said.

  “Am I wrong?”

  “Let’s just say the independent study was far more independent than you might think.”

  Wallace’s face blanched. “It wasn’t for a class?”

  “No.”

  “Goodness. I hope I don’t take the fall for it. I probably should have supervised them more closely, but you know how it is, Maggie? Right?” He paused and looked for agreement. “We’ve got far too much to do and not enough time to do it, and yet, we’re expected to publish brilliant papers.” He released his tie to press it against his chest.

  “Could we take a look at your lab computers to see if there’s anything in the history to help us find the killer?” Jackson asked.

  Wallace shook his head. “Student privacy rules. I’m sure you understand.”

  Jackson opened his mouth to protest, but Maggie sat forward and pressed her hand on Wallace’s hand splayed on the desktop. “Please, Wallace. I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, but it would mean so much to me.”

  Jackson was impressed. She was playing Wallace much the same way Jackson charmed the girl at the desk. Difference was, the girl at the desk didn’t really imagine she’d be dating him, where Wallace’s face was lit as bright as any IED Jackson had the displeasure of seeing ignite.

  “Of course. If it’s that important to you.” Wallace smiled and covered her hand with his.

  “I’d like to have our computer expert join us if you don’t mind,” Jackson said, not only to get permission, but to wipe that dreamy look from the professor’s face.

  Wallace looked like he did mind. Very much.

  Until Maggie smiled at him. “Will you sit with me and help me understand what we’re looking at?”

  “I’m always glad to help you.”

  Yeah, including breaking privacy laws.

  Jackson waited for Wallace to leap over the desk and take Maggie’s hand, but he stepped around and waited for her to rise.

  “Lead the way,” Jackson said. “And I’ll text Eryn to meet us at the lab.”

  Wallace stepped into the hallway. Maggie followed, pausing only long enough to give Jackson the evil eye. Okay, fine, he deserved it, but come on. The guy was super creepy, and so in love with her it almost made Jackson nauseous. How could she stand it?

  He trailed the pair into the basement of the building. Wallace paused by a door and dug out his keys. While waiting for him to open the door, Jackson fired off a quick text with the room number and told Eryn to join them ASAP. Before Wallace got the door open and lights turned on, she responded that she was on her way.

  The room temperature was even cooler down there, and the hum of computers filled the space. Rows of desktop computers sat at workstations and larger computers were housed in metal racks along one wall. Servers, he guessed, but he really had no idea.

  “Nice setup,” Jackson said to Wallace hoping to repair any damage he might have caused with his he-man tactics upstairs.

  “We do have a wonderful department for a small school, and I’m proud to be part of it. I just hope I can secure tenure, here.” Wallace glanced at Maggie. “You want that, too, right?”

  “I’d be most happy for you if that happened.”

  “No silly.” He swatted a hand at her. “I meant you want tenure, too.”

  “Oh that.” She glanced at Jackson for some reason. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Do students have assigned computers?” Jackson asked Wallace.

  He shook his head. “All of our machines are networked so students save files to the server or a flash drive, not the desktop hard drives.”

  “And where would the Internet history be stored?”

  “On the server. That way when you log in under your user name, your information is retrieved. We’ve set it up this way so if a student tries to cover up inappropriate actions by deleting files on the desktop, we’ll have the files on the server where the students don’t have permission to delete or overwrite them.”

  Jackson nodded his understanding. “Are there any particular machines Garrett and Scott used often?”

  “Yes.” Wallace jetted across the space to the last row of computers. He tapped two monitors. “They used these machines every time. I should have figured they were up to something when they sat in the back all the time.”

  “Can you log us into these computers?” Jackson asked.

  He nodded. “But I’ll have to remain by your side at all times.”

  “No worries.”

  “Okay, then,” Wallace said. “We’ll start with Garrett. Give me a second to query the user database to locate his login so you’ll see only his files.”

  On the first computer, Wallace opened a database window and entered a query to find the login as promised. He then logged out and signed in again as Garrett.

  “There,” he said. “You can see the files that Garrett accessed and modified.”

  Jackson dropped down behind the monitor. Wallace gestured for Maggie to take a seat behind the second computer and watched her every move until she was seated.

  “I’ll bring up Scott’s account on this machine.” Wallace leaned over her and Jackson couldn’t help but notice that Wallace’s typing slowed, and it took a lot longer to get this computer going than the first one.

  But he finally had Scott’s account up on the screen. He slid another chair close to her and sat. Jackson considered changing computers with Maggie, but he suspected Wallace would just move his chair.

  “Let’s start with their Internet history.” Jackson opened the browser. He didn’t know if they’d find anything of interest as both guys were likely smart enough not to leave behind a trail if they were up to anything illegal, but then, college students weren’t always the smartest. Not even computer geeks who should know better.

  Jackson sorted the history by date and started reviewing it. Garrett hadn’t opened the Internet since Scott died. Not necessarily a red flag. There were gaps in dates when the Internet hadn’t been accessed even before Scott died.

  Jackson looked at Wallace. “How often does Garrett come into the lab?”

  Wallace tilted his head. “Twice a week. Maybe three times. More when Scott was alive.”

  Just as Jackson thought. He continued to scroll through the list of sites that were mostly about computer programming and advertising, but still Jackson visited each one to see if it might hold a lead.

  Before long, the door opened, and Eryn stepped in.

  “Good. We can use your help.” Jackson introduced Eryn to Wallace who’d come around the workstation and stood watching Eryn cross the room. If Jackson were Eryn, Wallace’s unyielding attention would creep him out, but she held out her hand to him. “Eryn Calloway.”

  Wallace muttered his name and clasped her hand. Eryn gave it a firm shake as she always did, and the poor guy winced more for her than when Jackson had gripped it like a vise.

  She let go of his hand. “So what do we have?”

  “This,” Maggie called out. “I don’t know what it means, but it’s interesting.”

  Eryn stepped behind Maggie, and Jackson leaned over to see the screen. She opened a website for a do-it-yourself workshop called You Can Do It. A place where you could work on site and rent everything from metalworking tools to 3-D printers to industrial sewing machines.

  “What would Scott want with this place?” Maggie asked. “Was he into woodworking or hobbies like that?”

  “Not that I know of,” Wallace answered.

  “This is a membership place,” Eryn said. “If you’ll let me take over the computer, I’ll see what I can find out.”

  Maggie got up to stand behind the chair, and Eryn took her place. Surprisingly, Wallace remained seated, his gaze on the screen. Eryn entered a monthly membership into the shopping cart and opened the cart.

  “Mind explaining what you’re doing and why?” Jackson asked.

  “If he was a member and bought something, I’m hoping the shopping cart remembers his information and we can use that to access his files.” She pointed the cursor at the name field and nothing happened. She typed “SC” in the box. Scott’s name popped up. “Perfect.”

  She added his last name and tabbed to the address field. “I’ll need his dorm address.”

  “I can get you that.” Wallace took out his phone. He tapped a few buttons and rattled off the dorm’s physical address.

  Eryn typed in the first letter. “That’s odd. Nothing pops up.”

  “Maybe he’s not a member,” Maggie said.

  “He entered his name, but he could’ve abandoned the cart, or maybe he used a different address.”

  “What about a PO Box?” Maggie asked.

  “Good thinking.” Eryn typed “PO” in the address field, then “Box,” but nothing further came up. “Okay, I’m going to enter one number at a time to see if an address pops up.”

  Jackson watched as she started the number sequence. In today’s digital world, he was so thankful that Eryn was on their team. Gage had really thought things through before starting his business, looking for experts in the areas they would need to perform at a high level. Perhaps he could use a forensic anthropologist on the team, too.

  Now where did that thought come from? Focus, man.

  Eryn went through the numbers in order. When she inputted “8,” an address displayed.

  “Bingo. I’ll plug this address into Google maps to see what we have.” She opened a browser window, and Google displayed the address as belonging to a mailbox place. “He does have a box. Just not one at the post office. There might be something in his box that can help us. I need to get logged in to see if we can somehow pick up his mail.”

  “Can you do it?” Maggie asked.

  “I can try, but we’ll need a password, and that might be tough to get.”

  “Too bad the police never located a laptop for Scott,” Jackson said. “If he had one, it could’ve given us something to go on.”

  Eryn glanced up at him. “They also didn’t find a mailbox key, but it’s clear he had a box, so maybe someone took the laptop.”

  Jackson nodded. “I’d put money on the killer taking it along with the mailbox key.”

  “If the killer has the key,” Maggie said. “Wouldn’t he have emptied the mailbox already?”

  “Possibly,” Jackson replied, but he continued to hold out hope.

  Eryn opened the account page. “We have Scott’s email address from our initial interviews with his friends, but the police never found anything questionable in his account. Or anything related to this place. He most likely had a second email account.”

  Maggie turned her rapt gaze on Eryn. “How do we figure that out?”

  “Same way. We hope he logged in with it using this computer.” She typed in the letters “SC” in the email field and an address popped up. “Not the address we knew about.”

  “That’s not uncommon.” Wallace piped up.

  “Of course. Many people use different emails for different uses. Hopefully we’ll get lucky, and this will be the one we need. Now a password. People are creatures of habits and that goes for passwords, too. They like to use the same one over and over again even though that’s not at all safe.”

  “Why not?” Maggie asked, looking a bit guilty.

  Eryn swiveled toward Maggie. “If one of your accounts is hacked, and you use the same password, the hacker can get into other accounts, too.”

  “I never thought of that.”

  “Most people don’t, but if you’ve set up your accounts this way, you should change them. Especially financial accounts.” Eryn started to swivel but turned back to Maggie. “And don’t use 12345 or ‘password’ or your name or birthday for your password. Create something random.”