“Five, Suki. Adventure, freedom, embrace, spiritual. And, most strikingly, Cohiba. Our math types say the probability of that happening by coincidence is infinitesimal. What we’re thinking is Mystery wasn’t surfing for some theoretical Daddy. Right from the beginning she set out to get Stylemaven. That would be no big deal if Sweeties had access to Daddy profiles before they registered. All she’d have to do is read about his interests and match them. But that would wreak havoc with your site and turn it into one big linguistic competition. So you keep Daddy profiles off limits to anyone without a username and a password. Unless you mess with that rule for a fee.”

“We do not.”

I said, “Adventure, freedom, embrace, and spiritual are words that probably come up a lot on SukRose. Especially spiritual, everyone claims to be spiritual. But even so, a four-way match would be quite an accomplishment. Toss in a low-frequency word like Cohibas and Tara having ESP sounds real good. Unless you sell data to Sweeties under the table and of course you don’t do that.”

“We don’t, I swear.”

“Then it’s really puzzling, Suki. We randomly sampled a whole bunch of your profiles. Guess how many times Cohiba or Cohibas showed up on anyone’s other than Stylemaven’s and Mystery’s?”

Silence.

“Any guess but zero would be wrong, Suki.”

“Okay, so what?” she said. “Someone with a username and a password showed his profile to her.”

“Another Sweetie sharing the wealth?” I said.

“Yes.”

“All those girls competing for a few choice rich guys and they’d hand over freebie data just to be nice?”

She shrugged.

Milo said, “We have an alternative explanation.”

“What?”

He showed her an enlargement of Steven Muhrmann’s DMV photo. “He look like a sharing type to you?”

Suki Agajanian’s mouth dropped open. “Him?”

“Well, look at that,” said Milo. “A spontaneous reaction.”

She gaped.

He said, “Obviously you’ve had the pleasure.”

“Stefan whatwashislastname—Moore,” she said. “What does he have to do with any of this?”

“His real name’s Steven Muhrmann.”

“I knew him as Stefan Moore.”

“How do you know him, Suki?”

“He worked for us, okay? Only for a short time, no big whoop.”

“When?”

She clicked keys. Gasped. Sat back and stared at the ceiling. “Oh, shit.”

Milo said, “The date, please, Suki.”

“Right around the same time.”

“As …?”

“As him registering. Stylemaven—Suss.”

“The date,” he repeated.

She read it off woodenly.

Milo said, “That’s two days after Stylemaven came on and one day before Mystery registered.”

“Shit.”

“How long did he work for you, Suki?”

“Less than two weeks—hold on.” Click click. “Guess I don’t have a record but it wasn’t long, maybe a week, a week and a half.”

“Looks like he used his first day on the job to access your database.”

“No way,” she said. “He didn’t even have computer skills.”