The next morning, I went for an early run before Shannon woke up, and on my way back to the apartment stopped and got the mail that had been piling up in my mailbox all week long. When I walked back through my front door, I could smell sausage sizzling in the kitchen. Shannon, still wearing nothing but my t-shirt, was standing at the stove.

"Breakfast?" I asked, walking up behind her.

She looked back over her shoulder as I deposited the mail on the counter and slipped my arms around her waist. "I found the sausage in the freezer, but it didn't have a date on it, so I'm praying it doesn't kill us. The only thing else you have to eat here is an alarming amount of candy."

I laughed. "That's why I run." I kissed the bend of her neck as she turned a patty. "I could get used to this."

A small moan escaped her throat. "Do you have to work today?"

I nodded and pulled away from her. "Yeah." I started flipping through the mail on the counter. "And as much as the guys at work would love to meet you, you'll have to stay here."

"I assumed as much. I brought my laptop to keep myself busy," she said.

Underneath my March copy of Maxim magazine was a flyer for Daycon Securities. I picked it up and read it aloud. "Top of the line wireless security, remote web and mobile access, secure remote video monitoring."

She giggled. "You really do need a security system to protect your television and recliner."

I pinched her side. "Shut up." Leaning against the counter, I tapped the flyer against my forehead. Dots were desperately trying to connect in my brain when it hit me. "Remote web access."

"What?" she asked.

Excited, I kissed her cheek. "I swear I think better when you're here."

She held up a piece of sausage to my lips. "I'll take that as a compliment."

I bit into it and smiled. "I'm going to go take a shower."

"Need some help?"

I laughed as I backed out of the kitchen. "Woman, I'll never get to work!"

*******************

If I were a skipping kind of guy, I would have skipped into the office that morning.

Margaret noticed my chipperness and lowered her reading glasses to look at me. "Morning, Detective."

I slapped my palm down on the surface of her desk. "Good morning, Marge! Glorious day, isn't it?"

Her right eyebrow peaked. "You're making me nervous."

I rubbed my palms together. "It's going to be a good day. I can feel it!"

"Good luck with that," she said, chuckling to herself.

"Marge, have you seen Detective Reese yet this morning?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Not yet. Want me to try and get ahold of him for you?"

I knocked my knuckles against the table top before stepping toward the office door. "Nah, I'll take care of it. Have a great day."

She went back to pecking away on her computer keyboard. "You too, Nathan."

The office was quieter than usual, but it was Friday, so that wasn't a surprise. Lieutenant Carr's office door was closed, and his light was off. I silently thanked God for small blessings. As I walked to my office, I pulled out my cell phone and called Reese.

"Yo," he answered.

"Where are you?"

"Pulling in the lot," he said.

I stuck my key into my door. "Awesome. Meet me in my office."

"10-4." The line went dead.

Turning on the light as I entered, I dropped my stuff on my desk and flipped on my desktop computer. As it booted, I picked up the office phone and punched in the extension for the jail on the back of the property.

"Master control," a man answered.

"This is Detective McNamara. I need inmate trustee Dennis Morgan sent to my office as soon as someone can escort him over," I said.

"Roger that, Detective," he said.

I cradled the receiver just as Reese walked through my door, shaking his head as he crossed the room. "You're way too productive too early this morning." He flopped down in one of my arm chairs. "What's going on."

"I think I know how they're doing it," I said.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Enlighten me."

I handed him the flyer I'd received in the mail. "Don't you find it curious that the thieves magically know who keeps cash in their safes?"

He nodded. "Of course."

I leaned back in my chair. "I mean, you wouldn't think too many people would keep loads of cash at home, right?"

"Right."

I pointed at him. "I'm willing to bet that each one of these houses has a security camera trained on the safe. I know I've seen at least a couple of them," I said. "ArmorTech offers remote video access. I guarantee you someone is hacking that system and watching that video."

Reese's eyes widened. "And shutting down the system before they go in."

I smiled. "Bingo."

"Well, shit." He handed the flyer back to me. "How are you going to prove it?"

"I'm going to consult with a criminal."

He laughed. "Oh, really?"

"Yep."

"What do you need me to do?"

I jerked my thumb toward the computer monitor. "Can you find those surveillance clips for me? And do some digging to find out if ArmorTech has ever been hacked before?"

He nodded and stood up. "Yeah."

"Hey, Reese?"

He turned back around.

"But be chill about it. It could be someone on the inside over there for all we know."

He smirked. "When am I ever anything but chill?"

I laughed. "Thanks, man."

As he walked out, Dennis Morgan—dressed in orange and white stripes—walked in. "You asked to see me, Detective?"

"Yes." I nodded toward the chairs. "Have a seat, please."

Obediently, Dennis dropped into a chair. "What'cha need?"

Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my desk. "I need some information. Techie stuff."

One of his flaming red eyebrows arched in question. I was about to be in his debt, and he knew it. "Information, huh?"

I nodded. "You know I can't get any time knocked off your sentence. You've only got a few weeks left," I explained. "But how about a meal from the outside or something?"

"How about The Walking Dead?"

I turned my ear toward him. "Excuse me?"

He smiled. "Man, I haven't seen anything since the mid-season finale last year. You know, Rick shot that little Sophia girl on the farm. She was a zombie and shit." He shook his head sadly. "I don't know. I think the group might turn on him or something."

That was a good episode.

"You want to watch The Walking Dead?" I asked to clarify.

"Yeah."

Shaking my head, I laughed. Hard. "That's the most interesting request I've ever received."

"So, is it a deal?" he asked.

"It's a deal. If you can help me."

He sat up straight. "All right. Hit me with it. What do you need?"

"You're in for hacking, right?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"How possible is it to hack into a home security system? One that's web-based, online."

He laughed. "For you?"

I pointed at him. "No. For someone like you."

"Pshhh..." He sat back in his seat again. "Piece of cake." Then, as if remembering his stripes and current incarceration, he began cautiously searching the corners of the ceiling for bugs. "I mean...I've never done that or anything."

Chuckling to myself, I held up a hand to silence him. "No one's listening."

He seemed to relax a bit.

The truth was, Dennis wasn't a bad guy. He'd hacked the computer at the hospital and erased the debts of cancer patients. I'm not saying I would've let him go—a crime is a crime and it's my job to enforce the law—but there's a big difference between Dennis and whoever shot Carissa Withers.

He leaned toward me and lowered his voice. "Give me enough time and I can get into the Pentagon." He looked around cautiously. "What do you need?"

Man, he must really want to watch some zombies.

I held up my hand again. "That's not necessary." I handed him the flyer for Daycon. "I'm curious about something like this."

He laughed and didn't even accept the flier. "Shit, man. Daycon has holes in it like swiss cheese. My niece could get through their shit and she's seven."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You can get through their net with a decent SDR and a—"

I cut him off. "A what?"

"SDR," he said again. "Software-defined radio. It lets you intercept and monitor transmissions from shit like Daycon's systems."

"How easy is it to get ahold of?" I asked.

He shrugged. "You got an eBay account?"

God, I love it when I'm right.

"So, if they had video surveillance inside the home?" I asked, leading him with my tone.

He laughed and winked a light brown eye at me. "If they've got inside surveillance, then pray they've got hot chicks and those cameras turned toward the showers, dude."

By the end of the day, I was more certain than ever that a hacker was responsible for, or at least involved in, the robberies. All of the video footage that Reese was able to pull had clear footage of the safes. So, whoever it was knew the contents of each safe that was hit. I was also willing to bet that whoever Justin Sider was had watched the mayor use his handy-dandy password notebook to access his accounts.

Before I could leave for the day, there was one more order of business I had to tend to. I picked up the phone in my office and dialed our IT department.

"Ramon?" I asked through the intercom.

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me a favor?"

There was a beat of silence. "Sure, Nate. What's up?"

"Can you find a way to buy, download, stream, or whatever all the episodes for last few months of The Walking Dead?" I asked.

"Um..." There was more silence on his end of the phone. "Sure, I guess."

"Great." I stood up at my desk. "Make sure it gets sent over to the jail. They are expecting it. Tell them it's for inmate Dennis Morgan, from me."

"Uh, OK."

"Thanks, Ramon," I said. "Have a good weekend."

"You too, Detective."

I pressed a few buttons to forward my calls to voicemail, then shut down my computer. It was time to head home for the weekend...home to my girlfriend.

****************

Even though he's a fictional dude, I'm a little sad he's off the market. :)