Sometimes it is the wounds we inflict on ourselves that cause the greatest pain.
*
Albert Cooney watched as the monitor on Jane Reynolds' desk sped through series after series of letter, number and symbol combinations faster than the eye could follow. The password on file in the IT department hadn't worked and, realistically, Albert had never expected that it would. They seldom did, but it didn't matter. The millions upon millions of combinations the software systematically checked narrowed the possibilities with each one it rejected. Albert knew it was just a matter of time until the screen would freeze on an 8-character key that would give access to the secrets of any machine in the Portland network. The one on Jane's desk was no exception.
The request from Horace Burke was not new. The CEO did random checks on all of his executives and Albert was his go-to guy when access to their computers had to be accomplished quickly and discreetly. The task today did seem a little different because the boss himself hovered over his shoulder waiting for the search algorithm to work its magic.
Success brought a grunt of approval from Horace. It took only seconds for Albert to install an invisible back door and bury it while following HB's orders to remove any sign that the machine had been compromised. Next, he did a password search on the two email accounts on Jane's machine with similar success. A congenial pat on the shoulder told Albert the boss appreciated his services, but his further involvement in the project would not be required.
With a flourish befitting a computer genius Albert pushed himself back from Jane Reynolds' desk and made room for the big boss to take his place. He wouldn't wait around for Horace to crack her files. With the backdoor in place, he didn't need to.
Horace was no computer nerd but he had a practiced eye when ferreting out anything that looked out of place in a document file. Time would not permit a laborious scroll through the multitude of folders nor a meticulous look inside to see what files each one held. Burke simply plugged an external hard drive into a USB port and downloaded the entire contents of Jane's hard drive.
While the machines were talking, he went through her desk drawers and checked for other storage devices that may contain what he might be looking for, although at that point he wasn't really sure what that might be.
Hidden in the space behind the hanging files he found a DVD that looked out of place and he slipped it into his laptop and downloaded every byte that it contained. He was finished and back in his own office before the old security guard made his 8 pm rounds. His first phone call was to Madison Clark.
Madison's heart was in her mouth when she heard Burke's voice on the phone. It was all she could do to keep calm and businesslike while he spoke. "I have the passwords you'll need," he confided. "If you go in sometime between 8:15 and 11 pm you'll miss security. Otherwise, you'll have some explaining to do and Jane Reynolds may get wind of your having been there."
Β¬ Peter was watching Monday night football and his beloved Patriots were holding off the opposition by less than a touchdown. The Cowboys were third and six and nearing field-goal range so he hardly looked up when Madison kissed him on the forehead and said that she wouldn't be long.
Before the end of the half, Madison was settling behind Jane's computer and punching in the codes that Burke had given her. When the password allowed entry, she knew enough to go directly into Jane's email and delete everything that had her name on it.
There was no time to go through every folder so she systematically dragged every one of them to the trash. The recycle bin was next and when the little basket showed empty, all of Jane's files were erased. It took her a few extra minutes of searching to find the DVD's buried deep in the file drawer but Madison felt a triumphant surge as she tucked them into her purse.
In less than ninety minutes she was back in her own driveway with the weight of the world lifted off her shoulders. Peter's football game was over and he and Madison tumbled playfully into bed. He was euphoric because the Pats had won and she was ecstatic to have neutralized Jane's incriminating evidence.
They made love like teenagers and after lay side by side, sweating and exhausted, complacently content with their privileged lives. There was no mention of the spat that had them in separate bedrooms only twenty-four hours before, and neither took a chance of spoiling the moment by mentioning it. Seeing his pretty wife naked and sated, Peter felt that was proof that he had redeemed himself sexually from his embarrassing debacle.
Across town, Horace Burke tediously opened every file downloaded from Jane Reynolds' hard drive. Nothing suspicious jumped out and Jane's meticulous attention to detail could be seen in file after file. He was about to give up and wait for Madison to enlighten him as to what the HR manager might be doing wrong when his natural curiosity led him into Jane's email. A search for Madison's name brought up a dozen or more entries and he noticed a recent one with a hefty attachment. It took only one click on the paper clip icon for him to know instantly why Madison desperately wanted access to Jane's machine.
He clicked through the pictures, marveling at both Madison's sensual beauty and her saucy sexuality. In some she was clearly posing for the camera, but the poses were extremely provocative. No, more than provocative, they were pornographic he decided after a second viewing. The little slut from accounting had shed her prim reputation along with her clothes.
There was something else about each picture that was manifestly evident. Madison was clearly enjoying herself. She was excited by her nudity and aroused by showing herself in such brazenly sexual poses.
The second folder on Jane's hard drive was harder to find but it was an even greater revelation. Madison and Jeremy Shore! The eclectic mixture of stills and blow-job videos showed her considerable oral talents in another extra-marital dalliance. The variety of camera angles ensured Madison's face was fully visible and recognizable in every shot and the constantly changing camera perspective left no doubt that there had been a third person taking the pictures.
Burke was sure it had to have been Jane. That, and the incriminating nature of the photos, would surely explain the Head of Accounting's determination to access the Personnel Director's computer.