Dead Man's Puzzle Read Online Free

for faxing the puzzles. Emergency numbers.
    Cora hurried into the office.
    Yes, of course. It was right there.
    Along with . . .
    On page two of the instructions was the heading ATTACHED FILE SENDING FOR DUMMIES.
    Cora wasn’t offended. She was never so relieved in her life. She clicked on the mouse, opened her e-mail.
    The computer crashed.

Chapter 5

    The science teacher was offended. “A what?”
    “A computer nerd. I need a computer nerd.”
    “We don’t call them computer nerds.”
    “What do you call them?”
    “We call them technical assistants.”
    “Okay, I need a technical assistant.”
    “Why?”
    “My computer crashed.”
    “How did it crash?”
    “How? Well, it’s not like I dropped it on the floor.”
    “What does it look like?”
    “Well, the screen turned blue.”
    “Ah! The blue screen of death!”
    “You know what it is?”
    “Yes.”
    “Can you fix it?”
    “That’s not so easy.”
    “That’s why I need a computer nerd.”
    “A technical assistant.”
    “Yes.”
    “I’ll send one over.”
    The science teacher sent over a technician, who differed from a computer nerd in his title. He had dark-rimmed glasses, a big nose, and pencils and pens in a pocket protector.
    Cora wondered if she should really be blamed for perpetuating the stereotype.
    Whatever you called him, the guy was good. Within twenty minutes, he had rebooted the computer and discovered the source of the problem, which Cora still didn’t understand in spite of his explaining it to her in computerese so condescending he was lucky she didn’t rap him upside the head.
    “It’s very simple,” he said in a nasal whine that set her teeth on edge. “If you don’t power down correctly, and you leave your virus protection off . . .” He shook a gloomy head. “How many windows did you have open when you crashed?”
    “Windows?”
    “Programs. Crossword Compiler, for instance. Did you have Crossword Compiler open?”
    “No,” Cora said with absolute assurance. Nothing could have induced her to open a crossword-puzzle-constructing program.
    “How about eBay, Amazon.com, Days of Our Lives official Web site, iTunes, International Movie Database, Fandango, and Date Match?”
    “Well, if you’re going to count every little thing.”
    “You can’t leave all your programs open. It’s like leaving your doors open. What happens when you leave your doors open?”
    “My computer gets stolen?” Cora said hopefully.
    “No, you get the blue screen of death.”
    “And that’s not good?”
    He gave her a baleful look. “It’s not funny. You think it’s just you, but it’s not. You’re on the Web. When you e-mail a friend, you’re not just touching their computer, you’re touching every computer they’ve ever touched.”
    “I’ll wear a condom,” Cora said. The young man looked shocked. “I get it. I’ve been a bad girl. Can I use the computer now?”
    “Of course you can. But it’s going to crash again if you’re not careful. I can’t keep running over here.”
    “You’ve only run over here once. I don’t think that’s enough to claim a pattern.”
    “Remember what I told you?”
    “You told me a lot of things.”
    “When your computer freezes. Remember what to do then?”
    “I’m guessing it has nothing to do with hot chocolate.”
    “Remember what three keys you hit?”
    “Control, Alt, Delete.”
    “You were paying attention.”
    “Well, it reminded me of my fifth husband.”
    “What?”
    “The acronym. CAD.”
    “Oh.”
    “So that will unfreeze my computer?”
    “No. It will let you turn it off.”
    “What do you mean, let me turn it off? I can always turn it off.”
    “No, you can’t.”
    “Sure I can. I can pull the plug.”
    “Yeah. If you want to risk damaging your computer and losing data.”
    “That’s the only downside?”
    “And you get the blue screen of death.”
    “I hate it when that happens.”
    “Turn it off the way I taught you, and you should be able