Trust Me

Alison, all I’m suggesting is a little discretion.”
    “Discretion? You think that bastard, Hudson, is showing discretion? He and that blonde have gone off to Hawaii, for God’s sake. I’m the one who got left with two children to raise. I’m the one who has to worry about keeping a roof over our heads. I’m the one who has to provide new shoes and put food on the table and pay for college.”
    “No.”
    “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
    “Whatever happens, you won’t have to worry about keeping Jason and Kyle housed and fed, and you won’t have to worry about their education,” Stark said quietly.
    “I’ve got news for you, Stark, Hudson convinced the judge that he only needs to pay minimum child support because I have a career. But I can assure you that I don’t make nearly enough in my interior design business to maintain the standard of living that the boys and I had before the divorce. Hudson’s support payments, assuming he even bothers to make them, won’t make up the difference.”
    “I’ll see that you and Jason and Kyle are taken care of.”
    There was a startled silence on the other end of the line. “Why would you do that?” Alison asked blankly.
    “Because – “ Stark broke off, unsure of what he wanted to say. “Forget it. Just don’t worry about the money. You’ll be all right. I really have to go now, Alison.”
    “All right,” Alison said slowly. “Sam, I – “
    “Goodbye, Alison.”
    “Goodbye.”
    As soon as the line went dead, Stark dialed Sellinger’s number at the Rosetta Institute. He was put through at once.
    “Stark, thanks for getting back to me.”
    Sellinger’s plumy voice provoked memories. Stark experienced a brief pang of nostalgia for his days at the Institute. He had gone there immediately after graduating from college. It had been a somewhat cloistered existence, as Desdemona had guessed, but it had also been an important part of his life.
    Stark had always respected Sellinger as a man of many talents. The old man was savvy, both in the ways of politics and in terms of sheer intellectual ability. The combination made him an ideal director for the Institute. He had held the post for fifteen years.
    “Good to hear from you, sir,” Stark said.
    “I regret to say that this is a business matter, not a social one,” Sellinger said apologetically. “Wanted to let you know that Kilburn has resurfaced. Somewhere in Europe, we believe. You asked me to keep you posted on new developments.”
    Stark leaned back in his chair and thought about Leonard Kilburn.
    Kilburn had held the title of a department manager at the Rosetta Institute. He had worked on the management side, rather than the technical side.
    He had vanished from the Institute two and a half years earlier. Sellinger had notified Stark that an extremely sensitive encryption program had vanished with him. The program had been designed by Stark during his days at the Institute.
    As with most of the software that Stark had worked on while at the Rosetta Institute, the encryption software had been restricted by the U.S. Government for security reasons.
    Kilburn had illegally sold Stark’s high-tech programs to a foreign government. He had very likely made a fortune on the deal, because there were fortunes to be made in the murky world of restricted technology sales. The field was not as lucrative as international arms dealing, but it was catching up fast. In fact, the two businesses frequently overlapped. Most high-tech weaponry was linked, one way or a nother, to computer programming, and military intelligence depended heavily on it.
    Fortunately, Stark had designed a hidden self-destruct feature into the encryption software Kilburn had stolen. It had triggered as soon as the foreign buyer had tried to install the program. No damage had been done, but everyone was aware that it had been a close call.
    Kilburn, however, had vanished.
    “Interesting,” Stark said. “How did you find Kilburn?”
    “Apparently he tried to broker a deal for some restricted software that was stolen from a weapons lab in Virginia. We got wind of it Tried to track him through the computer link he used. Unfortunately we scared him off before we could pin down his location. Have no idea what he’s up to or what he’ll do next, but I thought you ought to know he hasn’t disappeared for good.”
    “I didn’t think he would.”
    Sellinger chuckled, a rich, fruity sound. “I doubt he’ll come anywhere