There is No Cloud

by Kat Wheeler

  “Okay. I guess the best way to end this is to see it through,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster, but she felt as if there was a massive rock in her stomach, and until the killer was caught, she didn’t think it was going anywhere.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  You can’t go home again. Well, you can, but the magic cleaning elves still haven’t visited.

  They left the station and walked the two blocks to her apartment. This walk felt so much different than their stroll through Manhattan the night before. It felt like a lifetime ago to Cameron. It was amazing how much difference a few hours could make. The air was just as crisp, but the feeling on the city streets was completely different. There was no feeling of promise in the air as there had been. Just a pronounced sense of silence making the streets feel desolate and somehow foreboding. And even though the danger had passed, Cameron could still sense it all around.

  Even entering her apartment didn’t dispel any of her anxiety. It was still a mess from the break-in, and it was just another reminder of the strange situation she found herself in. It had been less than a week since she made the discovery that put her there, and she couldn’t believe how quickly her life had changed.

  She dropped her bag at the entrance as she always did while Will moved past her and settled himself on her couch, making himself at home. She started to make her way to her bathroom and stopped.

  “What is it?” he asked softly.

  “Nothing. I just realized showering will be tricky. I can’t get my hair wet.” She gestured to her forehead. “Stitches. Can’t get it wet for twenty-four hours.”

  “Let me see.” As he motioned her toward him, she moved without a thought.

  It should’ve been strange, being so close to a man she barely knew. But it wasn’t. It felt natural, easy, like she’d known him for years. She’d dated men for months and never felt this comfortable with them. It must have been the extreme situation. Shared experiences always caused a feeling of closeness. It would go away. She wouldn’t take it too seriously.

  She sat on the coffee table in front of her bright red couch that Will had scooted to the front of. He lifted his hand to touch her forehead where the cut was, and she winced.

  “They did a pretty good job considering,” he said, his breath soft and surprisingly fresh against her face. “Why didn’t you let them take you to the hospital?”

  It took her a few seconds to respond, so disoriented from his closeness.

  “It’s not that bad. I already had a scar there from when I was a kid, so I wasn’t worried about that. It was just two stitches. The paramedic did it at the station.”

  “Ah, a tough girl.”

  His hand was still touching her face, although there seemed no reason for it to be. And it made her nervous. He was undeniably attractive, and Cameron had noticed. Being this close to him, it was hard not to stare. His focus still seemed to be on her scar, but she wondered what he was thinking. Was he attracted? Or was he just concerned, considering she’d been hurt? It was impossible to tell.

  “Not so much. I just had a lot of stitches when I was young. The scar that’s there was from running into a brick wall.”

  His lips tilted up into an amused smile, and he was still touching her face.

  “You ran into a wall?”

  “I was chasing my dog. It’s a long story,” she babbled, shifting her weight between her feet. His face was so close to hers. If he just turned a little bit….

  Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to?

  But at that, he seemed to notice their closeness and withdrew swiftly, sliding to the back of the couch and putting as much space between them as he could.

  “Well, it looks good. Be careful cleaning up. You don’t want to get it infected.”

  It was said harshly in comparison to the soft, almost breathy way he’d been speaking to her. She felt the difference in her chest.

  Well, that answered that question. He did not feel the attraction. That was okay; maybe he had someone in his life. She hadn’t even thought to ask. Hopefully they’d soon find the murderer, and then they’d go their separate ways.

  It was for the best, she thought as she got up silently and made her way to the bathroom. She didn’t need the distraction, and his career was just as demanding as hers with as crazy hours, it seemed. She’d had a brief moment of fantasy, and with the way he looked, what woman wouldn’t? She imagined he’d understand her devotion to her career because he was equally invested. And a man like him certainly wouldn’t be intimidated by the fact that she worked primarily with men.

  She glanced back before walking through the doorway into the bathroom and found him studiously looking at his phone.

  Yep, not interested.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  One down

  Stepping out of the elevator onto the third floor of the police station, Cameron was struck by the activity. There weren’t this many people here on any of her other visits. She got the feeling something was happening. Her intuition was confirmed when Captain Lovett poked his head out of the conference room he’d been in to shout at them.

  “Justus, where have you been? Get in here.”

  “What’s going on?” she asked as they hustled past the cubicles.

  “No idea,” Will answered. “But I bet we’re about to find out.”

  Detective Jones's head whipped up as soon as they stepped into the room. Captain Lovett and ADA Goodrich were gathered around the conference table, intently poring over some papers. Alan's eye settled on her bruised and scarred face, a sympathetic look crossing his features before he responded.

  “We’ve got him,” he stated excitedly. “Well, I doubt it’s the person behind all of this, but the man who shot at you, Ms. Caldwell, and killed your friend, possibly Mr. Rodriguez, but that’s doubtful. Looks like he’s just the cleanup crew.”

  Cameron fell into a chair, dropping her head in her hands. Relief filled her body with the exhalation of breath. She was safe. Or maybe not, but surely soon. They’d find out who hired him quickly, and then she would be. And Casey’s killer would be brought to justice. She’d been ignoring her feelings about his death for the last few days, afraid she’d fall apart, but the end was almost there.

  She came back to herself and realized she’d been missing the conversation.

  “We got him from the New Jersey boys on the hit-and-run. They’re bringing him in as we speak. Hopefully he’ll make a deal to tell us who hired him. If not, I imagine we’ll find out quickly. According to the detectives over there, he’s not exactly a brain trust. He’s a repeat offender. They recognized him as soon as they got his picture,” the captain said.

  “Are they bringing him down here?” Will asked.

  “No,” answered Kim. “Jersey’s got him on murder charges. We’ve only got attempted, so they’ll file charges there. They’re being extremely cooperative, mostly because that picture you sent them was the confirmation they needed to get a warrant for their suspect. We can interrogate him there if we like. But they know what we’re looking for and will try to get it for us.”

  Will looked like he was going to argue, but the captain cut him off first.

  “I know you want this guy, but this is for the best.”

  “I want to go to Jersey and talk to this guy,” Will responded with a growl.

  “No,” Cameron answered, startling them all. She imagined they’d almost forgotten she was there. “He didn’t kill Rodriguez, so it still has to be one of them,” she said, gesturing to the whiteboard with the suspects listed on it. “They don’t get to get away with it and let this guy take the blame. Wait, what’s his name? I don’t want to keep calling him ‘that guy.’”

  “His name’s Toby Tucker. He’s had a series of entry-level jobs. No real education, barely made it through high school.” Alan stuck his picture up on the boar
d, and she nodded. So that was who killed Casey. It was so unreal to think that such a brilliant man in the prime of his life had been wiped out by this loser.

  “You have to stay here and do the interviews. Chances are it’s either Wells or Reece who hired him, right? I mean, you don’t think it was Trey, do you?” Cameron asked.

  “No,” Will answered thoughtfully, leaning up against the wall. “He never felt right for it. I shared your theories with the team,” he added.

  She nodded in acknowledgment.

  “What about you?” Kim asked, nodding at Alan.

  “I didn’t either. Something about it just didn’t sit right. With all the research you dug up on him, I couldn’t find anything that would suggest he had that kind of violence in him. His few brushes with the law were all alcohol-related when he was young, stupid stuff, nothing of consequence.”

  “I agree,” said the captain. “She’s right. It’s probably one of them. And if the New Jersey cops can’t get the killer’s identity out of their suspect, we need you here to interrogate them. The hit man may not be smart, but these SE people are.”

  “They’re not as smart as they think they are,” said Will, a stiffness in his jaw settling in with determination. “I say we make them wait. Let’s see what the Jersey cops can get. It’ll be a whole different ball game if they can get us a name. In the meantime, let’s look through the information they sent. Maybe we can find a connection to one of our suspects.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

  It was a few minutes past three by the time Will and Kim entered the interrogation room containing Tessa Wells and her attorney. He could see her irritation, and this time she was making no attempt to hide it. Gone was the delicate waif he’d seen at the SE offices. In front of him sat a tough, defiant woman. And she clearly didn’t feel the need for the disguise anymore.

  They sat slowly, not feeling the need to rush, laying out folders and files in front of them on the table. Her irritation continued to grow at their lack of urgency, and Will thought if he played it just right, he could probably get her to snap. She had the look of a woman used to getting her way, and that wasn’t the way it worked in this room.

  “Ms. Wells, thank you for coming down. We’re sorry for the delay,” Will led the questioning. “You remember ADA Goodrich, don’t you?”

  She nodded in response sharply, but before she could speak, her lawyer cut in.

  “Detective, this is completely unprofessional. You asked my client to come down here, and then you keep her waiting for over an hour, treating her as if she’s a criminal. I hope you’ll handle this interview with more finesse than you’ve shown so far.”

  “Oh, I’m sure we will,” he answered lightly, ruffling the stiff lawyer's feathers a bit by not taking his warning as seriously as he intended. “But before we get started, I’d like to confirm Ms. Wells was read her rights prior to this interview?”

  “Again, completely unnecessary, but my client has been advised of her rights. May I ask why the assistant district attorney is participating in this interview? It seems a bit irregular.”

  “Of course,” answered Kim. “Due to the high-profile nature of this case, the department wants to make sure all their ducks are in a row and no mistakes are made that might hamper prosecution once an arrest is made. I’m sure your client would agree with that. I mean, doesn’t she want her friend’s murder prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law?”

  “Of course I do!” exclaimed Tessa. “This whole thing with Matt has just been awful. I’m just ready for this to be over.”

  “I understand, Tessa,” Will said sympathetically. “If you can just answer some questions for us and clear some things up, we’ll be able to make our arrest.”

  “You know who did it?” she asked, eyes wide, not breathing.

  “We have a strong suspect,” he confirmed, noting her rising anxiety and her swift glance at her attorney. He was sure her lawyer didn’t miss it either if the shift in his posture was anything to go by.

  “Ms. Wells,” Will began, pulling out an evidence bag containing the chip Cameron had found. “Have you ever seen this before?”

  “No,” she answered quickly. “Well, I don’t think so. Not that one specifically. It’s a computer chip. Looks just like the millions of chips I’ve seen.”

  “I see,” he said, moving on. Pulling a stack of pictures out of the file, he laid them in front of her on the desk. “And on the Friday night in question, you took a helicopter out to the Hamptons with Mr. Howell and Mr. Reece in the afternoon and didn’t return to the city until the following Sunday, is that correct?”

  “Yes, I’ve told you this. What are these pictures of?”

  “These are pictures people took at the SE party at Trey's house that night. It was nice of him to hire a professional photographer to capture such a momentous occasion for SE. We got their pictures too. We’ve examined all of them. I’m not much for technology myself, certainly not like you and your friends, but even I know all pictures taken nowadays have a date and time stamp embedded in them. The metadata, I guess they call it.”

  She was beginning to sweat a bit, he could tell. She didn’t expect this, he was sure.

  “And? I was there. I’m sure I’m in some of those photos.”

  “You are,” he agreed, nodding. “But no matter how hard we searched, we couldn’t find any pictures of you between 8:00 p.m. and 10:30 p.m.”

  “So?” she replied, waving her lawyer off when he attempted to answer for her. “It was a big group, and it’s a big house. I’m sure there are lots of people who weren’t in all the pictures.”

  “Okay. Then have you ever used a charter helicopter company that provides a shuttle service from Manhattan to the Hamptons called Hampton Sky Taxi?

  “No,” she whispered, her face going white.

  He pulled another set of papers from his file. “I apologize again for the delay in our interview today, but we were interviewing a pilot from one of the helicopters from that service. He was flying Friday night, and he remembers you. He states that he took you back to the city on the 8:30 p.m. flight and then returned you to the Hamptons on the 10:00 p.m. flight. He remembers you because you paid in cash.”

  “Hearsay,” interjected her lawyer. “How reliable is this witness?”

  “Well,” Will said, “he’s a medal of honor recipient who will swear under oath that she was on those flights.”

  “That still doesn’t put her at the crime scene,” the lawyer said, though most of his bravado was gone at this point.

  “You’re right, it doesn’t, but we have no doubt we can get a conviction when we present the motive,” he said, nodding at Kim, who nodded back.

  “What motive?” Tessa asked, a little of her bravado creeping back into her voice. “Matt was my friend. I had no reason to kill him. I loved him.”

  “I think you did love him,” he replied. “I think you love all of them. They were your family, right? You needed them. Your father committed suicide when you were five, correct? And then your mother left you, traveled all the time. She left you with nannies and sent you to boarding school. I bet being with Trey, Brandon, Matt, and Mark was the closest thing to a family you ever had.”

  “Yes, exactly,” she responded, a hint of desperation seeping into her voice. “I would never hurt my family.”

  “You would if someone was threatening to take it all away, wouldn’t you, Tessa?”

  “What are you talking about? Matt would never hurt me.”

  Will picked up the evidence bag on the table again, watching Tessa's eyes track the chip in the bag as it swung in his hand.

  “He found your chip, Tessa. He was going to tell Trey. And when he did, it would all be over. You’d lose your job, your friends, your family, and it would ruin Synergistic,” he stressed. “You couldn’t let hi
m do that, could you?”

  “That’s enough,” her lawyer cut in. “Either charge my client or we’re leaving.”

  “All right. Tessa Wells, you’re under arrest for the murder of Matteo Rodriguez. You have the right to remain silent.”

  He finished reading her Miranda rights while she stared at him seething. It wasn’t the response he’d anticipated. Usually, when suspects knew they’d been caught, they cried or showed remorse. Tessa Wells just looked pissed.

  “Do you understand these rights?”

  “You’ve got nothing,” she hissed at him. “My lawyers will make you look like a fool. You can’t prove I did anything.”

  He sighed and gave her a pitying look. “The police in New Jersey have arrested your friend Toby Tucker. He gave you up. He was your nanny’s nephew. You knew him as a kid. So, when you discovered your chips had been found, you sent him on the cleanup mission. He’s being charged with the murder of Casey Keane in New Jersey and attempted murder in New York. He wasn’t successful on the second mission. But he did still have all the money you paid him with and the envelope it came in. They’re running it for prints now.”

  “It’s circumstantial,” the lawyer said. “They were childhood friends. That money could’ve been for anything.”

  He was posturing. Will could tell the lawyer knew they were in trouble. But Tessa’s face never changed. Her arrogance shone through clear now, and it was obvious to him that she thought she’d covered all her bases and she’d get away with it.

  “And then there’s this,” he said, lifting the chip again. “It took a while, but our techs finally traced where the transmissions from the chip were being sent, and they found your cloud account. It still contained all the data from all your chips. The ones you planted on Matt and Mark, but also the ones you planted on Trey and Brandon. Turns out you were spying on all your boyfriends. Not the trusting sort, are you, Tessa? Every bit of information you gathered was there.”

  “It’s meaningless,” she said. “Someone’s setting me up. I didn’t do anything, and you can’t prove I did.”