Page 12 of Deep Fake

Control?

Power?

I grabbed a few cookies I’d baked earlier while pretending my life was okay and a big, cold glass of milk and stood at the kitchen counter, gobbling them up.

Twenty more minutes.

What was he doing? Offering my problems up to the highest bidder? Maybe he was doing some hacking of his own, getting into my life as easily as this other person had.

Maybe he and his hacker buddies were making fun of the plain guy freaked out over a prank.

I forced myself to sweep the kitchen and wash the few dishes in the sink to busy my hands until the alarm went off. A few texts came in while I was doing those things, but I ignored them.

I’d gotten good at ignoring them. Somewhat.

The alarm blasted a trumpet sound, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I tossed the sponge into the sink, mad for letting something silly get to me, but I lived on the edge of disaster now.

That was probably what the tormenting me wanted.

Not wanting to come off as desperate, which I was, I got online and waited for Sketch to message me first. If this didn’t work, I was screwed. Other than moving to the mountains and never having a phone again, I had little options.

Can you get a burner phone?

I shrugged as though he could see it. Burner phone?

One of those cheapie prepaids. Not a smart one. A basic model.

Oh.

Yeah, I guess I can find one.

Do that.

I would ask Alex to help me. Searching for it online would only make the stalker aware of my actions.

My whole life was on display for an unknown person who clearly hated me. Or wanted to see me squirm at the least.

What else can I do?

Chapter Ten

Riglan

I asked him to trust me. Gave him instructions about retaining devices and any evidence remaining on them. Told him to get a burner phone partly so he would be able to use it without constant trauma, partly because I planned to have him turn his current one over to the person helping him with it. And partly so he wouldn’t get any more phone calls.

Also because I wanted to see if the stalker might manage to find that number. It wasn’t easy to do, but someone with enough skills could manage it. If they did, then I, or rather the guy helping this human, would know what he was dealing with.

And since it was no worse than chatting online, I told him I would call him on the phone. He started to tell me his number, but of course I already had it. Without even having to look somewhere like the dark web. His information was everywhere on the net and whoever was after him could find it as easily as me.

He filled me in somewhat, and I made notes in the secure program I used for such things. His voice had a familiar ring, and my ferret was riveted to it. Making little purring chirping sounds. I was starting to wonder exactly what the beast thought was going on here.

This is just a job, and not even for me, I chided.

For us, he snapped back, leaving me even more unsettled.

“Why don’t we meet face-to-face,” I finally suggested. “Oh…I’m not sure.” Hesitating? After begging me for help?

“You aren’t? I thought you wanted someone to figure out the situation and how you can get out of it.”