Identity Revealed by Carolyn Keene

Author:Carolyn Keene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin
Published: 2009-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

IS THAT GEORGE’S CAR I SEE IN PARKING LOT C?

I smiled, and quickly texted back:

WE’RE HERE TO MEET WITH PROFESSOR FRANK. COFFEE?

It took only seconds to get a reply.

STUDENT CENTER. BE THERE IN FIVE.

I looked up at George. “Let’s talk about it over a cup of coffee with Ned,” I suggested. “I don’t know about you, but I could use something warm after that encounter.”

“Tell me about it,” George agreed, following me toward the student center with a nod. “That guy was cold as ice.”

Ned was waiting for us with a table and three steaming lattes when we came to meet him at the student center. “I got you some drinks,” he said, offering us two cups. “I thought you might need a caffeine fix.”

“Thanks,” George enthused, taking a long sip of her latte. “Ahhh. That’s better.”

I sat down and squeezed Ned’s hand. “Thanks. We’ve had kind of a crazy morning.”

Ned looked concerned. “What’s up?”

Alternating stories and comments, George and I filled Ned in on the morning’s wild events: the library meeting that wasn’t, the not-quite-thief Ibrahim, and the setup by someone at BetterLife—or someone who had hacked in to BetterLife.

“Wow,” Ned murmured, shaking his head. “Poor Ibrahim! I had no idea any of this was going on with him.”

George shot me an awkward look. In our recount to Ned, we’d downplayed Ibrahim’s crush on me a little.

“What was in the e-mail that was so embarrassing?” he asked me.

“Oh, you know.” I shrugged and sipped my latte again. “Typical teenager stuff.”

George touched Ned’s arm, jumping in to change the subject. “It gets worse,” she promised. “Just now, Nancy and I had a meeting with Professor Frank, asking him to put us in touch with Jack Crilley and Robert Sung—you know, the BetterLife creators?”

Ned nodded. “Sure! Nancy and I saw them speak a few weeks ago. What did you need to tell them?”

“George wanted to warn them that someone was hacking into their game to steal users’ personal information—like yours,” I explained.

“It’s a huge invasion of privacy for their users,” George said. “I was sure they’d be upset about it.”

Ned nodded, and I tried to look hopeful. “Maybe they will be, George, once they hear Professor Frank’s voicemail.”

George raised her eyebrows. “That’s the thing,” she said, leaning in confidentially and looking from Ned to me. “I didn’t want to say anything before, but I’m not even entirely sure he really called Sung and Crilley.”

I frowned. “You don’t? But we were sitting right there while he did it.”

“We were sitting right there,” George confirmed, twirling her latte cup on the table, “but we didn’t hear him actually reach anybody. We don’t know for sure he got their voicemail. Heck, we don’t even know for sure that he dialed a real phone number.”

I bit my lip, considering this. Would Professor Frank be that brazen—faking a phone call to get rid of us?

“What makes you think that?” I asked George.

She shrugged. “I’m not totally sure, but I could swear I heard the dial tone when he was supposedly leaving a message.

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