There is No Cloud

by Kat Wheeler

  Detective William Justus gave her a long, hard look before speaking. So much so that Cameron became nervous, shuffling her weight between her feet on the Manhattan sidewalk. Maybe coming to the police wasn’t a great idea. Perhaps she should’ve gone to Steve and just let her boss decide how to handle it.

  “Well, why don’t we get inside, out of the cold, and you can tell us about it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Interview? Interrogation?

  Cameron saw the skeptical look Will shared with Alan as they walked into an interrogation room on the third floor of the precinct. At least she assumed it was an interrogation room. Dark and cold. Though not as cold as outside. Gray, dingy walls and a hard metal table were the first things in the room she noticed. She grew more nervous the longer the detectives' silence went on. They’d gestured for her to sit in the hard metal chair at the table but hadn’t said a word since.

  She decided whatever game they were playing by not speaking didn’t matter. Whatever happened to Casey was way more important than playing dominance games with a pair of detectives. She’d seen enough of those with the guys at work. She needed to know more than anything if Casey’s death really was an accident.

  She spoke hesitantly at first, then grew in confidence as her story unfolded. She told them about finishing her regular workday on Friday, visiting Barry at Digital Lifestyles, and her discovery of the chip in the HTH later the next morning. Then she shared the info she got from Casey, her discovery of the person who’d had the chip in his house, their suspicions, and finally of the death of her friend. She was thorough in her exposition, only leaving out the details of her adventure at Mr. Minsky’s house from her tale.

  When she was finished talking, Will and Alan shared a look. She could tell they weren’t convinced. Part of her didn’t blame them. Wasn’t it just yesterday she’d been talking to Casey about how insane conspiracy theories sounded?

  “So, let me see if I have this straight. You found spyware in an HTH that was installed in Mark Minsky’s home?” Alan questioned.

  “Yes.”

  “And at that point, you didn’t think to report it to the police?”

  “And tell them what? At that point, I didn’t know it was spyware. I didn't know what it was. If it was an additional piece or if it was part of a new version that may have been added in manufacturing. I didn’t know what it did until I took it to Casey, and we just found out the day before yesterday.”

  “And this morning he was in a car accident in New Jersey?”

  “Yes. I don’t have many details, but everyone in the office said it was a hit-and-run. He died on his way to work.”

  “How can that be related?” Will asked. “How could anyone know he’d discovered the spyware and act that quickly?”

  “When Casey called me about the device, he confirmed it’s a transmitter. It takes all the information and all the data of any device on the same network and transmits it at midnight every night. We assumed when we removed it from the HTH, it would no longer transmit, as Casey didn’t connect it to the wireless network at the office, but that must not be the case. This thing is way more advanced than we thought. It must’ve automatically connected to an open network. If it did that, it could get the ID from the phones and tablets, the computers, the network, anything nearby. It wouldn’t be a jump for them to discover who had the device. And even more, it would’ve been able to connect to all the devices on the network and see the tests he’d been running and know it had been discovered.”

  “Would they know you had it?”

  “Yes. When I took it from Barry, I kept it in my apartment all weekend before delivering it to Casey. It could’ve connected to a nearby network and transmitted. But that’s not suspicious. I was just a sales rep transporting a defective product to my tech support. Nothing compromising was done until Casey began running tests on it. I also never discussed anything related in front of the chip just in case. We never communicated via email or text regarding this. Just a couple of cell phone calls that, if they were overheard, were primarily about my knowledge of the failure of the hub to integrate with SmartTech Home Automation and my intention to deliver it to Casey. Until this morning, there was no reason to suspect anyone but Casey and I knew what the device really did.”

  “Until this morning?”

  “Yes. After I heard about Casey’s death, I took the chip from his office.”

  “Did you bring it here?” Alan asked.

  “No, I hid it. I didn’t want to bring it to the police station in case this isn’t related to your case. I didn’t want to tip anyone off. That should be your decision. But regardless, when the hub transmits tonight, whoever is receiving the data will know I took it.”

  “We could take it somewhere it can’t transmit,” Will said.

  “Where?” Cameron asked. “I thought of that. I don’t know all the specifics on how this thing works, and I’m not qualified to find out. All I can assume is that it’ll connect to any network in range and transmit. We’re in Manhattan. There is nowhere you can go that doesn’t have a network. And though most are secure, there is always some idiot who leaves theirs open. Had I had some time, I could’ve maybe tried to get a wireless jammer to put with the hub to block transmission or get a Faraday box, but I didn’t have time for that. I didn’t want to leave it at the office. If Casey’s death was deliberate, I didn’t know if whoever’s responsible would come looking for it. The way it’s designed, you can pinpoint its location anywhere. Look, it won’t transmit until midnight.” She checked her watch. “That means you have eight hours to decide what to do with it.”

  “Before we do anything, will you explain to me why you think this is related to the Rodriguez murder?” Will asked.

  “I’m not sure it is. I just have a hard time believing this is all coincidence. I guess I’m making a few assumptions based on what I know. First, someone planted spyware in Mark Minsky’s home. A device that’s concealed in and designed to use one of SE’s HomeTech Hubs. The device is removed from the home, and the inventor of the HomeTech Hubs is killed. I have to ask myself, ‘Is this the only hub that has spyware built in? Was Matt Rodriguez involved in this? Did he find out, and that’s why he was killed?’ I have way more questions than answers for you. And maybe you guys have found another reason someone might want the guy dead, I don’t know. But I’d bet it’s related. This device is very sophisticated. It would take someone extremely technical to program something like this. They’d have to have access to both SE and Mike Minsky to plant it. He’s one of SE’s initial investors. It can’t be a coincidence. And with Casey’s death this morning… something else is going on here.”

  “Okay, sit tight. We’re going to check this out, and we’ll be right back. Do you want a water or coffee or anything while you wait?” Alan said.

  “No, I’m good, thanks,” she replied, and they walked out of the room.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Cute?

  As soon as the door to the interrogation room closed, Will shut his eyes and leaned against the wall, sighing audibly. “You think she’s legit?” he asked his partner.

  “I think she’s scared as hell, and I don’t think she’s lying, but I’m not convinced it’s related.”

  “You have to admit, it’s an interesting wrinkle. We haven’t been able to find any reason for anyone to want this guy dead. If he was spying on his investors and they found out? Or what if that’s how Trey got him to invest? Blackmailed him, then killed Matt when he found out? It does pose a lot of questions.”

  Alan nodded. “I agree we can’t ignore the possibility. What do we do about the chip? Do we bring it here and tip off whoever is receiving the transmissions?”

  “I think we have to. We’ll get our tech people on it. See if they can shut it down before it transmits tonight. I don’t know if we can bring it here. Would that give them access to everything on our
network? That would be a disaster. Jesus, this is why I hate technology.”

  “I agree. I’ll call Doug Pernick in the tech department and get him to go pick it up with me from wherever she hid it. I’ll explain the situation to him and see what his suggestion is. I’d love to find out where it's transmitting to.”

  “Okay, in the meantime, I’ll see if she has any other info she can provide before I send her home.”

  “Uh-huh,” Alan said with a knowing grin.

  “What? If this information is accurate, she’ll have proven to be exceptionally useful. We had nothing on this case an hour ago. The interviews with the SE people got us nowhere. Tracking down their competitors has been a bust. Corporate espionage, my ass. Plus I’ll be happy to have something to report to Gil. Last night’s update felt like pulling teeth.”

  “She’s cute too.”

  “Cute? Shit, Al, she’s a witness.” It was a brush-off, but Will agreed. She was cute. Tough too. Even in the face of her friend's death, she had the wherewithal to stash the chip and come see them. She could’ve just tossed the thing and walked away.

  “Yep, a cute witness. Didn’t see a ring either.” He winked, opening the door to the interrogation room, again halting Will from being able to reply. “Where’d you hide the chip, Ms. Caldwell?”

  “Storage locker at Grand Central. Here’s the info,” she answered, passing a piece of paper and a key over to him.

  Alan took it and headed out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Cops interrogations are not like interrogating the universe

  Detective Will Justus had grilled her for another hour. But he was nice about it. She went through every detail of her weekend, several times over, to the point that she was getting turned around. She learned he was a little technophobic, and trying to get him to grasp the amount of data a person could get with this technology was a challenge. She thought she finally got him when she explained to him how she could rob a bank with the information she could get from Mark Minsky’s devices. Either that or he thought she might actually be trying to rob a bank.

  After their meeting/interrogation, she felt relieved. This whole situation was out of her hands now. The police could certainly take it from here. They had good tech people on staff, and she was sure they’d get to the bottom of this.

  It was just too bad it was too late to help Casey. She’d managed not to think too much about his death during the interview, but stepping out of the precinct beneath the darkening sky, she felt the grief suddenly hit her. Casey was dead. It was almost impossible to get her head around it. In her five years with SmartTech, Casey had been a lifeline for her. He’d grudgingly helped her learn how to navigate the company’s tech support department when she first got hired, and he was her first point of contact for any help she needed. It was hard to imagine SmartTech without Casey, and even harder to imagine it was her fault he was gone. She’d brought him into this mess, after all.

  She tried to keep it in perspective. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t kill him. If anyone did. It still could’ve been an accident. Detective Justus said he’d reach out to the New Jersey police handling the case to see what they’d discovered, but it would take time to learn anything.

  She took a detour on her walk home from the police station to hit her favorite Mexican restaurant for some takeout. The place was jumping. As she sat at the bar sipping a margarita she barely tasted, she never felt more disconnected. All these people and she’d never felt more isolated, like a ghost in the city.

  When she got to her building, she said hi to the doorman. He’d been working in the building longer than she’d lived there. He’d introduced himself to her when she moved in, and she’d promptly forgotten his name. He never said it again, and after all these years, she was too embarrassed to ask.

  She was feeling progressively worse after riding the elevator to the eighth floor and getting off to head into her apartment. She unlocked the door and opened it to disaster. Her apartment had been ransacked. She only saw the living room, but everything was trashed, her TV shattered, couch cushions on the floor and shredded, pictures pulled off the walls. So much destruction.

  Something shiny on the floor caught her eye, and she glanced down. It was a picture from her bedroom, frame bent and glass shattered everywhere. Bending down, she gently pulled the photo out of the mess. It was a shot of her, Bill, and Phil at a corporate event in Denver her second year with SmartTech. She remembered it vividly. It was a great night when she was just finding her stride within the group. To see it treated so callously was heartbreaking. The cherry on top of a real shitty day she just didn’t need. She shook the glass dust off and slid the picture into her bag.

  Without going inside, she shakily returned to the elevator, rode down to the lobby, and called the number on the card Detective Justus had given her.

  He answered the phone with an amused lilt to his voice. “Calling so soon?”

  “My apartment has been broken into.”

  “Don’t go in. I’m on my way.”

  “Don’t you need to know where I live?” she asked, then realized he’d hung up before she’d finished talking.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Cameron’s place

  Cameron tried to imagine what Will was thinking when he walked into her building and saw her perched on the reception desk sharing guacamole and chips with the doorman. His face gave away nothing as he took her in munching on her snack. She hoped he couldn’t see the anxiety on her face as she tried to be casual with the doorman and the relief in her eyes when she saw him arrive.

  “Have you been inside?” he asked as he walked over to them

  “No,” she replied. “I saw the mess when I opened the door and immediately came back down here.”

  “Good. Was the door locked?”

  “Yes, I had to unlock it.”

  Will turned his attention to the doorman, who had stood at his approach. “Detective Will Justus,” he said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand.

  “Joe Vestin,” he replied by way of introduction.

  Joe, she thought and repeated it to herself several times, trying to make the name stick.

  He was a tall, sturdy-looking man with sharp features and a calm manner. “I’ve been with this building for twenty years. We’ve never had a break-in before. I’ve been here all day. I didn’t see anyone suspicious come in. We call up when any nonresident enters the building.”

  “Is there another entrance?”

  “Two more. A service entrance in the back, and the elevator goes directly to the garage downstairs, but you need a key to use it.”

  “Show me,” Will demanded.

  They all took a quick walk around the main floor and the garage, Joe pointing out the exits.

  “Were you away from your desk at any time?” Will asked.

  “Yes, twice that I can recall. Once when the UPS deliveries came in. I met the driver and brought all the packages to the package room. And again when I helped one of our older residents to her apartment on the sixth floor with her groceries. We also have security cameras. But I checked. The recordings from today have been erased.”

  “Whoever it was is probably gone,” the detective commented, turning his attention back to her. “What time did you leave today?”

  “I left at nine this morning for the office. I came back around twelve thirty to park my car before heading to hide the chip and then on to the police station to wait for you, but I didn’t go upstairs.”

  “Okay, I’m going to head up and check it out. I’ve called in a crime scene team. If they arrive before I come back, please send them up.”

  With that, Will walked away from them and boarded the elevator with her keys.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Fish and chips, and hotels

  “Okay, the crime scene team is going to be awhile,” he
said when he came back down. She’d sent the crew that had arrived up to meet him maybe ten minutes before. “How about you ditch the chips, and you and I can grab some dinner while they check things out? Talk about this a little more?”

  She quickly agreed, not wanting to sit in the lobby to wait for them to do their work. She left her remaining guacamole and her tacos with Joe, who seemed to be enjoying them, and followed the detective.

  The walk over to the restaurant was quiet and thoughtful, much like the city seemed that night. Light traffic on the streets and the chill in the brisk air. Nights like this were one of the reasons she’d come to love the city so much. It wasn’t what was advertised, but the city could be so peaceful sometimes. A calming presence and a sense of familiarity she appreciated after her emotional day.

  An awkwardness that wasn’t present on their walk seemed to settle in once they were in a booth at her favorite Irish pub. The silence grew more pronounced as they sat, both perusing their menus. Cameron wasn’t hungry anymore, and nothing looked good. In fact, she was barely seeing the menu. The break-in at her apartment had shaken her up more than she would like to admit. She wasn’t a native New Yorker, but she’d always felt safe in her apartment. Before moving to the city, she’d researched neighborhoods in depth. Gramercy Park was a notoriously safe area, and living in a building with a doorman added to her feelings of security.

  It was only now that she was realizing if someone wanted in, they could get in no matter where you were. The question was why? Never being able to stand long silences, she decided to broach the subject with the detective.

  “I don’t understand why someone would break into my place. Were they looking for the chip?”

  Will started to answer but was interrupted by the waitress.

  “What can I get for you two?”

  “I’m not hungry,” Cameron stated.

  Will took her measure, then turned to the server. “Fish and chips for both of us. I’ll have a Guinness. You want a beer?”