Trust Me

“This is code?”
    “Yes.”
    “But you have to have a special program to encrypt a message, don’t you? I don’t have one.”
    “It would have been simple for someone to load the encryption program from a floppy disk, code this message, and then remove the program from your computer’s memory.”
    “But that would mean someone deliberately left this message for me.” Desdemona shook her head. “It makes no sense. How could he be sure I’d get it?”
    “It was a good bet that you’d check to see what was in the lost work file the first time you turned on the computer.”
    “I suppose so. But what made him think that I’d recognize an encrypted message if I saw it?”
    Stark considered the obvious. “Maybe the message wasn’t left for you.”
    “I’m the only one who uses this computer.”
    “Are you?”
    “Of course.” Desdemona looked up at him expectantly. “Can you decode this?”
    He wished he could decode her as easily. “Probably. But first I have to get my magic decoder ring out of the cereal box.”

    Half an hour later Desdemona whisked into Exotica Erotica with two tall lattes that she had purchased at Emote Espresso.
    She waited as a woman in a pinstriped, skirted business suit concluded her purchase of a long, fluffy feather boa, an erotic novel, and a pink and gold box of condoms. The woman smiled at Desdemona on the way out. Desdemona nodded.
    “I’m going to have to stock more feathery things,” Kirsten said as the door closed behind the shopper. “Anything with feathers on it seems to sell like hotcakes.”
    “I know what you mean. I go through a lot of swans in my business. Here, have a latte.”
    “A shot of caffeine. Just what I needed. I’ve been swamped all afternoon. This is the first break I’ve had, and I can’t leave the shop. I’m the only one here.”
    “Where’s Henry?” Desdemona set Kirsten’s latte down on the counter. “I thought he was supposed to help out.”
    “Ian called and asked him to go down to the Limelight to meet with some potential money people.”
    “Hmm. I wonder if that means Ian has given up on trying to persuade Stark to became an angel?”
    “Ian never gives up. You know that. He is tireless in his pursuit of financial stability for the Limelight.” Kirsten removed the top from the latte cup and took a sip. “How are things going?”
    “Mom and Dad just hit town. The Cactus Dinner Theater got shut down earlier this week. Financial problems.”
    Kirsten made a face. “So what else is new? Have they met Stark yet?”
    “A little while ago. It was a near thing. Dad segued immediately into his Concerned Father role. I swear, if I hadn’t stopped him, he would have demanded to know whether or not Stark’s intentions were honorable.”
    Kirsten’s brows rose. “How did you stop him?”
    “I made it clear that Stark and I have only a casual dating relationship.”
    “Casual?” Kirsten choked on her latte. “I’d hardly call it that. You’re sleeping with him. How long do you think you can keep Benedick in the dark about that? Everyone else in the family knows it.”
    “Is that so?” Desdemona was irate. “I’d like to know how everyone else can be so darn sure of my personal business. Stark has not spent so much as a single night at my apartment, and I have never spent a night at his house. What makes everyone think we’re sleeping together?”
    Kirsten grinned. “Gosh, I don’t know. Call it Wainwright intuition.”
    Desdemona groaned. “What am I going to do, Kirsten? When Dad realizes that I’m in love with Stark, he’s going to start making noises like an old-fashioned patriarch. I just know he will.”
    “So let him. He’s good in that role.”
    “He’ll expect Stark to either marry me or get out of my life and never darken my door again. He’ll demand that Stark make a choice.”
    “Let Stark make his own decisions.”
    “I can’t do that,” Desdemona said. “I don’t dare put any pressure on him at this stage. Stark doesn’t know what he wants yet.”
    “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

17

    Stark sat in the shadows of his study and brooded over the message on the screen in front of him. Decoding the encrypted words that had been left on Desdemona’s computer had been child’s play for ARCANE. The message, itself, however, was anything but playful.
    Client: This is to let you know that I have id’d you. Did you think you could hide behind the anon address? As proof that I know who