A Loaded Question
Page 11
“Do you know who is handling the investigation?” Troy asked.
“Due to the fact that he’s my father, the FBI has offered to devote resources to the local law enforcement’s investigation. So far, they haven’t taken them up on the offer. I don’t know why, but I’m sure the detectives will work their tails off to get to the bottom of this.” She’d push on the FBI help if need be, but she didn’t want to muddy the waters for the officers handling it right now. She knew local law could get their hackles raised if higher-ups got involved. It just slowed everything down.
Troy nodded. “Whatever you need from STEALTH, you got it. And Zoey can work on it from our tech angles. We can see what she can pull.”
As she thought about Troy’s offer, she realized all of the sacrifices he must’ve been making for her; sacrifices she hadn’t totally thought about, until now. “I know you have a job to do, Troy. You don’t have to stand beside me through all of this. If you need to go and do your job, that should come first.” And his job had been investigating things at her father’s company, so it might lead to his killer as well.
He squeezed her tighter, and, reaching up with his other hand, he caressed her cheek with his thumb. The simple action was unexpectedly sensual, and it made her weaken beneath him. Being touched like that by him made her realize how long it had been since someone had truly wanted to touch her.
“Babe, your father paid me to do a job. As far as I’m concerned, this all falls under that umbrella. If anything, I feel like...” He paused and his arm dropped from her. “Well, this all could be my fault. Maybe I was so focused on keeping you safe, when I should have been thinking about the bigger picture. I should’ve sent Mike over to watch your family.”
She shook her head, vehemently. “This isn’t your fault. How could you possibly know that there was somebody out there who wanted to hurt my father?”
“I had a feeling that this thing with the sniper wasn’t over. I should have listened to my gut. Well, I guess I did... I knew something was wrong. That was how I found myself at your doorstep. But I think my entire focus was off. I let my personal feelings for you—and, yes, I admit it, I have feelings where you are concerned—cloud my perspective, and it may well have ended up costing your father his life.”
She could hear the pain and anger and rage in his words, all of which were too big for what had happened to him in the situation. He must have been thinking about his ex, Tiffany, the one who had been killed by the EFP.
He was hurting just as she was. And though time was supposed to heal, she held no doubts that in this case all time was doing was making his pain more acute.
“There’s plenty of security at the ConFlux building. My father had a well-trained security team watching out for him. Again, this isn’t on you. My dad must’ve gotten into something he shouldn’t have.” Her chest threatened to collapse in on itself as she heard the truth of her words. “If anyone is to blame here, it’s me. I actually listened to my dad and slow-walked the sniper case. I mean, I wasn’t pushing hard on it like I usually do. I allowed him to affect my work. I screwed up. He ended up dead.”
Troy sighed. “None of our hands are clean. All we can do now is to stop this from happening again. Only the murderer—and the person, people or group behind them—has any idea who else they are going to kill.”
Chapter Twelve
Troy made his way out to his car and got inside. As soon as the door clicked shut, he dialed Zoey.
It didn’t even have time to ring. “I heard about Solomon.” Zoey sounded breathless. “I haven’t managed to pull a lot of details—they’re not releasing much to the public yet—but I’m sure you’re thinking the same thing I am.”
Troy gripped the steering wheel and put his head down against the cool leather. He gazed toward the colonial-style home that belonged to Kate’s family. She was still inside, talking to her mother, no doubt bickering about some sort of family matter. It was no wonder Kate had become the strong woman she was after having to grow up with a mother who, though well raised and well-heeled, had the tongue of a cobra. Even making allowances for her grief, the woman was singularly unpleasant. “And what exactly is that?”
“I think you walked into a snake pit.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. There was no humanly way possible that Zoey could have known what he had been thinking, and yet the coincidence was unsettling. “More than you know.”
“Did you have time to get anywhere with the list of names I got you?” she asked, pushing forward without waiting for him to respond.
“Not yet.”
“I can’t blame you. Sounds like you have your hands full. Want me to pull some other members of your team in on this, give you some time to handle things with Kate?” Zoey asked, but he was aware that what she was really doing was trying to elicit a response that would tell her where his and Kate’s relationship was currently standing.
“There’s nothing beyond friendship between us.”
“That’s not what I said,” Zoey countered.
“Yeah, but you and I both know what you meant. If you want to know if we’ve slept together, we haven’t. We won’t. We both have jobs to do.”
Zoey laughed. “So, you have thought about it. Roger that.”
He could feel the warmth rise in his cheeks. He didn’t enjoy the sensation. “Why are you breaking my balls about this? About her? Right now, let’s just focus on our next step. I don’t need you stirring the pot.”
Zoey laughed again, the sound full of mirth. “Got it. You’re right,” she said.
“I don’t think I’ll need any more team members. Mike is still working on this, right?”
“Yes, but I can call in your sister. She would be happy to come in and assist.”
“Elle? Do you think bringing in K-9s would really be beneficial?”
“They are trained to track. Maybe they can pull something that the local LEOs are missing. A scent from the sniper, Solomon’s shooter.”
She had to have known she was grasping for straws on that one.
“No,” Troy said, shaking his head though he was alone. He gripped the wheel tighter as he stared at the vehicle’s make emblazoned on the steering wheel. “Why don’t you see if you can get into the ConFlux security cameras and try to find who all came and went from the building in the last twenty-four hours before Solomon was found.”
“You can’t expect that I haven’t already tried. Right now, I’m hitting brick walls,” Zoey grumbled. “Well, figurative ones, at least. These guys, they had tight physical and cyber security. Which is good. The head of their IT department, Alexi Siegal, must have thought we were going to get attacked from all fronts.”
That made it sound like his job in getting into the facility and finding weak spots was going to get a whole hell of a lot harder. If Zoey couldn’t get in, he doubted he would be able to.
Maybe that was why there had been a sniper on the roof—as an even more extreme level of security. What if it had been part of Solomon’s plan? Had he set them up to get shot at? No. He wouldn’t do that. Not in front of the office where his own daughter worked. Right?
He wished he had a few answers instead of all these damn questions.
There was a tap on the passenger’s-side window. “Got to go,” he said to Zoey. He clicked the phone off in true Zoey Martin style.
Kate was standing there, so he unlocked the door and she got in. “I can’t stand another minute in that house with my mother. It’s hard enough dealing with Dad’s death. Do you know she fired her maid and her gardener today? I’m not kidding—she is too much. This may actually have tipped her over the edge.”
He wouldn’t have blamed the woman if it had. “Does Deborah have someone she can talk to, a therapist or something?”
“I am sure she does, but if she doesn’t, she definitely has access to just about anyone she would
want to get.” She rubbed her fingers together as she rolled her eyes.
“Do you hate your parents because they are affluent?” he asked, but as he spoke, he realized his mistake. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask something like that about your parents, at least not today.”
“No, don’t filter yourself. Ask me anything. I’ll answer. Justice for my father comes first.”
“I know this is a strange ask, but do you think you could get me and Zoey into ConFlux?”
“Probably. But why do you want in there—didn’t my father give you access when he hired STEALTH?” She paused.
“They wanted to see if we could hack into the system, not for us to sign on.” He chuckled.
She nodded. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get you into my father’s office, not with the investigation in full swing.”
He reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “We have a lead on the sniper’s possible identity. Though the sniper might not be related to your father’s death, if I can get into the building, then maybe I can look a little bit deeper. I just need to poke around a bit.”
Kate lifted their entwined hands and pressed her lips to the back of his, giving him a light kiss. “Whatever you need, it’s yours.”
He was sure she didn’t mean it to sound as torrid as it had, but he still found himself getting aroused. There were many things he would like to do to her, but none of those things were a good idea. And yet he couldn’t stop his gaze from moving slightly lower than it should have. She did have a nice body. He would have loved to feel her nipple against his tongue. He felt himself grow stiffer.
He cleared his throat, in a feeble attempt to rid his body of the threatening sensation of lust. This wasn’t the right time. Her father had just died, and he needed to focus on finding the man’s killer and comforting his daughter. He started the car and began driving toward downtown Missoula.
When they arrived, they encountered an entire squadron of patrol cars. The vehicles were congregated around the ConFlux building, a black coroner’s van among them. It was backed in to a spot out front, its back tires on the sidewalk, as if it just waited to be filled.
He made sure to park away from too many prying eyes, but close enough that they could make a quick exit if they needed.
Though he knew he had to let go of Kate’s hand, he hated it. Out there on the street, with all the police officers running around, they couldn’t risk being seen as anything other than work colleagues. When he moved his hand from hers, her face said it all. She was crestfallen. He mouthed I’m sorry, but as he did, she looked away.
As they made their way toward the front doors, they opened. Four men walked through them, carrying a black body bag. “Stop,” he said, taking Kate’s arm and turning her away from the sight.
Something like that, watching her father loaded into the coroner’s van, was likely to haunt her for the rest of her life. She didn’t need this kind of trauma, not today or ever. Her job would bring her enough; she didn’t need it in her personal life as well.
“Troy,” she said, looking into his eyes. “It’s okay. I’m going to be okay. You have to remember, I’m not like others. I’ve been trained to handle situations like these, to dissociate and embrace the suck sometimes.”
“Just because you have the ability doesn’t mean that your body always listens.” He knew.
“I know you are trying to protect me, babe. But this isn’t something you are going to be able to keep from hurting me. This is all painful—it’s going to be no matter what you do or don’t do. All I need you to do is stand by my side, help me get through these days and work with me to find and bring down whoever pulled the trigger.”
He wanted to hold her and tell her that whatever she asked of him, he would deliver. Instead, he merely nodded.
She led the way to the entrance, watching as the men latched the van’s doors closed and the driver sat down behind the wheel. The driver was talking to an officer as Troy and Kate walked into the office building through the vast marble-laced lobby, complete with a Greco-style water fountain at its heart. People Troy assumed were staffers were intermingled with police officers, asking and answering questions. No one seemed to notice them as they walked by the gurgling fountain and toward the metal detectors that led to the interior of the building.
There was a large desk in the reception area, and behind it were a man and a woman who looked as though they were the receptionists. The man looked up from his computer screen as they approached. The phone started to ring, and the woman beside him answered.
“Good morning. How can I help you?” he asked, cutting them off from making their way over to the metal detectors and bypassing the checkpoint.
“Hi, I’m Kate Scot, Solomon’s daughter.”
The man blanched. “Oh, oh... Ms. Scot, I’m so very sorry to hear about your father. We’ve all been so upset after we learned what happened. They just...” He motioned after the van as it pulled away.
To think, her mother had already been pressing the issue about getting the medical examiner to release the body when they hadn’t even gotten to see the man yet. Deborah was going to be in for a long emotionally rutted road.
“Do you mind if we go up?”
“It’s... He’s... You can, but...” The man stammered, clearly trying to come up with what he should or shouldn’t do. But having no frame of reference, he finally sighed. “There are officers still doing their work in your father’s office, but I’m sure there is probably someone up there you can speak to... someone who can help you.”
“How about the ConFlux employees? Is everyone still on the clock, or did they all get sent home?”
“Um, they sent all nonessential personnel home today.” He pressed a button. “You can step on through the detectors.”
Kate shook her head. She reached down, took hold of her lanyard and pulled her badge from beneath her shirt, showing the man. “If you don’t mind, we’ll go around.”
The man’s face went impossibly paler. It was a wonder the man was still able to form words. The receptionist nodded, hitting another button that opened the gate to the left of the metal detector.
Or maybe he isn’t able to form words after all.
He could hardly blame the man; there were times when Kate had exactly the same effect on him; though, for entirely different reasons.
Kate’s loafers clicked on the floor as she led them around security and they made their way to the elevator. They rode it up to the top, neither speaking for the short trip. The doors opened with a ping.
Standing in the hallway of the fourth floor was a group of city police officers. One of the men, wearing a suit, looked over at them. He sent Kate an apologetic stare as he meandered his way over toward them.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a peek around while you talk to this guy. Cool?” Troy asked.
She nodded, and under her breath, she said, “The detective is a friend of mine, but he’s a talker. Take your time. I’ll get more details about the murder.”
Troy hurried away, walking down the hall in the opposite direction of the pack of officers and the detective and moving toward the restroom sign. Behind him, Kate was greeting her friend. Troy would have preferred to have had Kate with him so she could tell him about the different offices and their purposes, but on the other hand, the freedom allowed him to poke around on his own.
He slipped into the first empty office he came to on his right, checking over his shoulder and making sure that no one was paying him any mind. He closed the door behind himself.
The room was small, cramped and full of paperwork. It looked like the kind of office that belonged to an intern, some poor unpaid schlep who was at the bottom of the proverbial hill. When he’d started out in contracting, he had been the poor schlep...the guy who had to take the nighttime runs, when the chances of taking a bullet
were even higher than they were during the day.
He had been forced to earn his place on every one of the teams he’d ever been a part of. But when it came to him and Kate, they were just an instant team fueled by a common goal and mutual anger.
He flipped through a few of the papers, but most looked like they were interoffice memos, and the only thing that struck him as odd was that a company like ConFlux would still use such an antiquated system for informing their employees about upcoming events. Maybe it was just that some old habits died hard...or, like in many branches of the federal government, the best kinds of security were the ones that couldn’t be hacked. But, in situations like these, where security was stretched thin due to the unusual events, what couldn’t be hacked could definitely be stolen.
He glanced around the room; there wasn’t a camera in sight. Taking out his phone, he dialed Zoey. She answered even though he hadn’t heard it ring. “Did you get in to ConFlux?”
“Yep, I’m in an intern’s office now.”
“Is there a computer available?” Zoey asked, a falsetto to her voice he didn’t think he’d heard from her before.
He walked to the other side of the desk and sat down in the cheap, squeaky rolling chair. He clicked on the screen. “I’m there.”
“Great. Let’s hope we have a Bob here.”
“What in the hell is a Bob?”
“In every work environment, there is always that one employee, ‘Bob,’ who is a bit unaware when it comes to the importance of security, especially cybersecurity—maybe it’s with their personal information or the company’s. Doesn’t matter. This person is the one who clicks on the phishing email and lets in the hackers. All we need is to find the Bob and we can crack the company.”
He still wasn’t sure he totally understood what she meant, but as he looked around the cluttered room, if there was a “Bob,” Troy was probably in his office. Sometimes it paid to be lucky. Though, they didn’t put CEOs’ offices between a bathroom and an elevator.