I WALKED UP to the first librarian I could find. She smiled at me.
“Can I help you?”
“I was wondering if I could borrow your phone to call my cellular provider. I’m having a problem with my service.”
“Sure,” she said. “Which one?”
“Um, AT&T.”
She dialed the number from memory and handed me the receiver.
“Wow,” I muttered.
When the computer answered, I gave it all my information and eventually got connected to a real person. When I told him the situation, he checked my account.
“Huh,” he said. “You’re right. This shouldn’t have happened. For some reason, your account was suspended.”
“Suspended,” I said. “Why?”
“I have no idea, actually. You’re paid up, with no history of delinquency. All I can say is that it shouldn’t have.”
“Could I have been hacked or something?”
“I guess,” he said.
“Huge,” I muttered to myself.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, nothing … You can’t tell me any more about it?”
“Not really. Oh, wait, there are notes. It says here that a relative of yours called and said you were in a coma. She asked if your account could be suspended.”
“And you would allow a relative to do that,” I asked.
“It seems she had all your information, including your four-digit pin number.” He paused. “Uh, I guess you’re not in a coma.”
“Nope,” I said. “Did my relative give a name?”
“Yeah, it says it was your mother’s sister. Her first name was Cassandra.”
I felt like every nerve in my body caught fire when I heard that. I wanted to jump up and down like a child. But I stayed stone-cold calm.
“Thank you,” I said. “Can you just make sure my service is back on? And can you put a note in there to make sure that this can’t happen again?”
“Definitely, Mr. Snyder. I’m sorry about the inconvenience.”
I laughed, by accident. “I’m not.”
With a nod to the librarian, I left. Within minutes, I had an Uber on the way to pick me up and take me to Baltimore-Washington airport. It took even less time to find Cassandra’s office number. I dialed, smiling.
“Hi, this is Theo Snyder. I’d like to set a meeting with Cassandra for tomorrow.”
“You said your name was Theo—”
“I made The Basement,” I said.
“O-o-oh. Sorry, sir. Let me check—”
I cleared my throat. “You’ll fit me in. It’s about her … involvement with the Halo Killer.”
After a pause, the officer assistant said, “I’m sorry. I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying. Is that a project you’re working on?”
“It’s one we both are,” I said.
“Okay … Can you hold for a second?”
I nodded, feeling satisfied. “Sure.”
My car rolled to the curb, a black SUV. Jumping in, I leaned back, feeling at once exhausted and strangely content. I was close now. I could feel it. And I was sure I had caught Cassandra off guard.
“Hi,” the assistant said, after taking me off hold. “Cassandra can meet up for coffee at ten AM tomorrow. Does that work for you?”
“Definitely,” I said.
She gave me an address, and I put it in my phone.
“I’ll be there.”
When I checked for flights, the only one that could get me to Los Angeles in time cost over a thousand dollars. Timing was tight, but I booked it. I would confront Cassandra and end this charade. Then, for fucking with my mother, I would ruin her.