She didn’t want to be some kind of slave to his commands. She didn’t want to be someone who just did what she was told. Not when, possibly, she could do what she knew was right.
There was a technique she could use. It was quick, brutal, and it often worked on phones like this, in her experience anyway. If you flooded the password field by typing in a massively long series of numbers, you could force it to fail, and temporarily override it. She’d done it once before. She’d also failed once. Let’s see if third time was the charm, or not, she thought.
Quickly, Cami gave it a go.
She could feel Connor’s eyes on her, as if there were a spotlight on her, as if her hands were burning hot.
“It’s always frustrating to have evidence we can’t access, especially in this case, where time is so important and there’s probably so much critical information right there,” Minnett was saying to Connor in a conversational way. “We’ll send it through to forensics just now and they’ll be able to—”
“I’ve done it!” Cami said with a rush of relief. If there was ever a time when this hack needed to work out, it was now. And it had.
“You’ve done what?” Minnett asked, sounded confused. Connor was glaring at her, but he also looked uncertain.
“I’ve opened it.” Cami swiveled the phone around to show them, feeling a moment of satisfaction at their astounded faces.
There was the screen, brightly lit, with a modern art painting as the wallpaper. Finally, she felt a surge of confidence after this tortuous experience of being in the autopsy room, and she continued, “So, where do you want me to look first? What do you want to know?”