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NOTE - From here on out, if/when I post more of this unpublished book of mine (oh, and humble brag -a million years ago, I did manage to get this in front of an editor at Harper Collins!), I'll do full chapters, instead of breaking them up like this. Thanks so much to everyone for giving me such awesome encouragement!


<center><h2>Chapter One, continued from <a href="https://steemit.com/writing/@traciyork/an-exerpt-from-my-unpublished-novel-the-tangled-web">here</a></h2></center>

I found two on my first try.  One had pretty low connectivity, so I decided against it.  The other one had a very strong signal.  Not surprising, given it was called "5FieldRoad," which was the address of our building.  I took a deep breath, promised myself I would only use it for a brief moment each day to check messages and clicked "connect."

After my Google homepage was fully loaded, I sat for a moment, staring at the screen.  Jack came back upstairs, deposited more boxes in the corner of the room, then looked over my shoulder to see what was holding my interest.  He asked, "What are you waiting for - lightning to strike?"  

His nearness and easy familiarity made it difficult to dig up a comeback, but I managed, "Nope - just waiting for their bank account to finish transferring to mine."  He grinned, and we apparently had the same thought at the same moment - how much of their information was shared on their unsecured network?

He grabbed a couple of cold beers out of the fridge (yes, the six pack was the first thing I unpacked), pulled up a folding camp chair, and watched as I tentatively poked around the network.  I quickly realized this person, or people, won the award for "most blindly trusting ever."  Not only were the usual shared folders (Documents, Downloads, Pictures)  shared, this network was also set up so all the files on all the computers in the house, plus the printer, were connected and open to anyone who wanted to remotely plug in.

"Check out the Picture folder," my ever-porn-loving ex said (not that there's anything wrong with that), and I opened it up.  Much to his disappointment (and to be fair, mine), the closest thing to nekkid people were a couple of women with towels on their heads, looking like they were doing some kind of home party makeover thing.  

"Think they're more than friends?" he said as he nudged me with his shoulder, and I tried wicked hard not to notice how good he smelled, even after lugging so much of my stuff up the stairs.

"Oh, come on! Girls can be wicked huggy with each other, and that's all it is. Remember my college friend Chantelle?"  

"Yeah, right.  She totally wasn't trying to get you into bed.  What was that thing she said? If you're ever interes..."

I slapped his arm. He chuckled, and took a swig of his beer.

It was disconcerting how easy it was to fall into our old banter. I started searching on the hard drive for something to change the subject.

"Hey, looks like they watch 'Charmed'," I said, pointing out a folder with a hodge-podge of episodes obviously downloaded from some not-particularly-legal sites.

"Just wait till they find out their upstairs neighbor is a real life Wiccan witch, who is forever annoyed with the 'Charmed' story lines, even though she has a crush on half the cast. And pirated videos, eh? Sounds like they might be naughty girls..."

So much for changing the subject. 

"Okay, okay - I'm done.  I'm not going to compound my evilness in 'borrowing' the Internet by spying on my neighbors.  Especially since they go to church with my mother and brother - remember?  That's how I heard this place was for rent to begin with.  Let’s finish emptying the truck before my brother-in-law thinks I stole it and I'm on my way to Canada."  I closed down the folder and shut off my monitor.  

"Canada?  Isn't Mexico the usual destination for criminals on the run?  It's certainly a much warmer choice."  He stood up and stretched, a few stray beams of sun illuminating his face in the process.

"Yes, but since it is the usual destination, more people would look for me there.  Besides, I took French in high school, not Spanish, so my odds of understanding someone when they recognize my face from the Most Wanted poster greatly improve," I replied, trying not to notice how blue his eyes were in the light.

"Yeah, and on that note, I suppose it is time to move some more boxes. When you have a moment, be sure to send me that recipe for Get Outta Jail Free cake - you know, the one with the file filling? I get the feeling I'm gonna need to make one for you soon..."

*<h3>Continue reading <a href="https://steemit.com/writing/@traciyork/my-unpublished-novel-the-tangled-web-chapter-two">here</a></h3>*

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