“Not work, personal e-mail.”
“Mac!” Jackson looked at her in disbelief.
“Quiet!” Jael snapped, thinking hard. The implications rattled her. If those e-mails were from the shooter, it meant he either knew Mac well enough to have her personal account information or he knew how to find the information. Neither explanation made her feel any better. “Mac, you know the drill. You can give me permission to access your e-mail and social media accounts or I can get a warrant. What’s it going to be?”
The corner of Mac’s mouth quirked slightly. “Look at it all. Find the bastard who did this before he hurts someone else.”
Relieved, Jael asked for her passwords and other account information. Once she had it, she heaved a sigh of relief. “Thanks, kid,” she said after turning off the recording. “Now, is there anything in those accounts you need kept private?” She didn’t have to explain what she meant. Mac shook her head, suddenly looking exhausted.
“N-no.”
“You get some rest. I’ll be back later.” She bent and lightly kissed Mac’s cheek. When she straightened, she motioned for Elizabeth to step outside with her. It didn’t surprise her when Ellen followed.
“What didn’t you tell her?” Elizabeth asked as they took seats in the waiting room.
“The van itself, unless the evidence techs find something, is a bust. I haven’t heard yet if Sears and Nguyen learned anything from the rental contract or if they have managed to secure video from there.”
“What about where it was abandoned?” Ellen wanted to know.
“I doubt we’ll find any security video from the area, but Tanaka’s checking. We might get lucky but I’m not holding my breath. The area is one of those where there are more empty storefronts than occupied.” She leaned back and sighed. “Has she said anything to either of you about those e-mails or anything else that might help us?”
Both women shook their heads.
“All right. I’m going to head in after making sure her security’s in place.” She glanced at her phone when it sounded, indicated a text had come in. “Mateo’s on his way. He should be here sometime tonight. In the meantime, he’s ordered his team here. Once they arrive, they’ll supplement security around Mac and the rest of you.”
They nodded and she saw their relief.
“What else?” Jael rubbed her eyes as she thought. “Moira and John will bring the twins in a couple of hours. They’re making sure my kids get to school first. Moira said to tell you she’d stay here with Mac so you two and Jackson can get out of here for a while. I want to know before you leave so I can set up security for you.”
“All right,” Ellen agreed.
“Then I’d best get on my way. I’ll update Pat on my way out. I have no doubt she’ll be by after the morning brief. In the meantime, call me if Mac remembers anything else.”
“Have you gotten any rest?” Elizabeth placed a hand on her arm, stopping her before she stood.
“Not nearly enough.” And that was putting it mildly. “I doubt any of us will until we catch the bastard who shot Mac.”
The women nodded, their expressions as serious as her own.
“I wish I had more to tell you. But Mac will be the first to tell you that sometimes the smallest clue leads to the biggest break.” She prayed that was the case this time. “As soon as I know more, I’ll let you know.”
“You just find the bastard who did this to my daughter,” Elizabeth all but growled. She started to say something else but stopped. Jael waited, watching as she looked around, as if making sure no one could overhear her. “Do you think this has anything to do with what she is?”
“I wish to God I knew.” That was the question they needed to answer and soon. “The e-mails may give us an answer.”
Now it was Ellen who made sure no one could overhear. Unlike her daughter, however, she stood and crossed to the door, looking up and then down the corridor before returning to her chair. For a moment, she said nothing. Jael waited, wondering what was on her mind.
“Call Flynn. Tell him about the e-mails. Make sure he gets copies. He can find out where they were sent from quicker than DPD.” Ellen didn’t look at her. Instead, she stared out the door and Jael had a feeling she saw something very different from the end of the nursing station.
Since she already planned to do just that, Jael nodded. Then she frowned. Something was bothering Ellen and she had a feeling she needed to know, even if she didn’t want to.
“What else?” She lightly rested a hand on the woman’s arm, waiting until Ellen looked at her. “I need to know.”
“It’s nothing. Just a feeling.”
“About?”
“About something I need to confirm one way or the other before I say anything else.”
“Mom?” Elizabeth looked at her mother in concern.
“It’s all right, Liz.” She patted her daughter’s hand. “I promise, no one is going to hurt Mackenzie or any of the rest of our family ever again.”
Jael glanced from mother to daughter and frowned. This was one of those times when her duty as a cop seemed to be running up against her duty to the pride and her oaths to protect all pures. Part of her wanted to accept what Ellen said and leave it at that. But she couldn’t, not in good conscience. Not if it meant making sure no one hurt Mac again.
“Ellen, I respect what you’re saying—and not saying. But if it has anything to do with what happened, I need to know.”
Ellen’s expression didn’t change but her eyes flashed dangerously. Jael waited, not challenging her. She understood the woman’s desire to not only protect her granddaughter but those like them. She also understood the desire not to make accusations without proof. But Ellen needed to remember Jael was more than a cop, she was one of those who looked to the pride and to the Tribunal. More than once she’d put her life on the line to protect them and she would again.
“You need to trust me on this, Jael,” the older woman said. When Jael opened her mouth to protest, Ellen lifted a hand and shook her head. “If I’m right, this is going to go far beyond Dallas and DPD. If I’m wrong—and I pray to God I am—then waiting a day or two while I get confirmation won’t hurt.”
Jael stood and paced the length of the room several times. When she stopped, she nodded once. She’d give Ellen what she wanted but that didn’t mean she couldn’t conduct her own investigation. The fact Ellen was so worried about what might have happened spoke volumes. The possible explanations worried her more than she cared to think about.
“Twenty-four hours,” she said simply.
For a moment, Ellen looked like she might argue. Then she nodded.
Jael blew out a breath and rubbed her temples as her head throbbed. Even though she needed to get to the station, she had one more thing to ask. “What have the doctors said?”
“Not much, although Patek says she’s getting better.” Elizabeth’s relief shone on her expression and in her voice.
“She’s going to recover.” Jael willed all of them to believe it. “I need to get on my way. Call me if she remembers anything or if you think I need to get back here. Promise me.” She waited until they nodded.
Elizabeth walked her to the elevator. “You be careful. I don’t want to have to tell Mackenzie something happened to you.”
Jael nodded and promised to be in touch as soon as she could. Then, as the doors slid shut and the elevator started down, she pulled out her phone. Holding it in one hand, she considered her options. She should discuss her suspicions with Pat, but she hesitated. This might be one of those situations where it was better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission.
* * *
God, her head hurt. Her stomach pitched dangerously. Even her skin seemed to hurt. What had they done the night before? She didn’t remember drinking that much, just her usual glass of wine with dinner.
Groaning, she rolled onto her back. As she did, her right hand reached over, searching for her husband. Her eyes snapped open to find his side
of the bed empty, the sheets cold. Then the all-too-familiar resentment filled her. She’d awakened alone too often, especially lately. His excuses didn’t fool her. He was back to his old habits, habits that could cost him his freedom and her her job.
“Damn it, Roy,” she muttered as she rolled onto her side and carefully sat up.
The room rolled and pitched. She swallowed hard against the bile that rose in her throat and dropped her head into her hands. For a moment, she considered calling in sick. Hell, maybe she should call the doctor. She hadn’t felt this bad in years.
Lifting her head, she looked around the bedroom. Almost instantly, she saw the chair at the foot of the bed. For a moment, she stared at it, her brow furrowed. Then the memory of the night before returned. An almost animal-like sound of protest escaped her lips and she ran to the bathroom. Her stomach pitched. She heaved into the commode, wave after wave fear washing over her.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stumbled out of the bathroom and down the hall. Her hand shook as she reached out and slowly opened the door to her children’s bedroom. Then she hesitated. Memory of the man telling her he was taking her children. No nightmare had ever been this bad. Her breath hitched. Her pulse pounded. Forcing herself to move, she took one, two halting steps inside. Fear unlike anything she’d ever known filled her. She didn’t dare blink as she reached down to pull back the covers. If her children were gone. . . .
A sob ripped from her as she saw her son’s dark hair against the white of his pillow. Her knees went weak as she turned and saw his sister sleeping in her bed across the room. Then she saw the sheet of paper resting on the pillow next to her daughter’s head. She reached for it with trembling fingers. A moment later, she backed out of the room after confirming her children, her babies, slept and hadn’t been hurt.
Julia, she read.
I thought I’d leave you a reminder of what I can do if you fail me. Your children are safe and sound in their beds, as you see. But remember how easy it was for me to sneak into your home last night and have our little discussion. If you check your phone, you will see how “comfortable” we’re making your husband. Unless you want those darling kids to join him, you will remember our conversation and do as instructed. Now get them ready for school and get to work. I’ll be in contact soon.
Remember, I’m watching your every move.
Don’t fail me and especially don’t fail them.
She closed her eyes and crumpled the page in her fist. Damn Roy! This was all his fault. When he came to her a week ago, full or tears and remorse, she knew he was in over his head again. Then he’d told her what he had to do to stay alive. Initially, she’d told him to run. She didn’t care where. She didn’t care how. She was tired of his bullshit and wanted him out of her life and out of the lives of their children.
When he told her their kids had been threatened, she didn’t believe him. She’d been through this with him too many times before. Then the email came from a spoofed account. It showed pictures of her kids. Pictures taken at their school, outside playing, even in the car with her. The message had been clear: help her husband or face the consequences. She might be ready to wash her hands of Roy but she’d do nothing to endanger her children.
After telling Roy this was the last time she’d bail him out, she asked what he needed to do. When he told her, she couldn’t believe it. Then she remembered the threat against the kids. So she sat him down and told him what he needed to do. She planned the hit with the same precision she employed in planning a raid. The only possible problem she saw was getting a vehicle that couldn’t be traced back to either of them.
That was when she realized whoever Roy was tied to had their home bugged. Within an hour of raising the issue of a vehicle, Roy’s cellphone rang. When he ended the call a short time later, he told her the vehicle had been arranged. It would be delivered the morning of the hit. With that last obstacle out of the way, she told him to keep his mouth shut, to keep sober and to stay out of trouble. She’d get him a gun. Then, when this was over, they were going to have a very long discussion about their future.
Then she’d locked herself in the bedroom, not because she was heartbroken by what he’d done or by what he still had to do. Far from it. No, she’d needed time to think. She needed to figure out the best way to protect herself and the children. Nothing and no one else mattered.
She’d told him how to handle the situation. She’d told him how to keep from getting caught. But he’d refused to listen to her. He had to do it his way. Now their entire family might pay the price.
She didn’t have any love for Santos but the woman didn’t deserve what was about to happen. But she’d do as she’d been told. She had to, for her children.
God, when had her life gone so wrong?
* * *
“I do so love modern technology.”
He watched as Wysocki read the note he left. When she crumpled it into a ball, he smiled. So predictable. Her ego told her she could figure a way out before his deadline. But her mother’s instinct would force her to do as he said. But, to make sure, he’d send her something to encourage her compliance.
Watching the video feed on his tablet, he waited. Part of him expected her to make a call. If she was half the cop Santos was, she’d call for help. But she wasn’t that sort of a cop. Far from it. She’d do as instructed, believing she’d be able to walk away when everything was done. He’d let her have her little fantasy, at least for the moment.
But he could hardly wait to see the look on her face when she realized the trap had sprung and she was caught.
A few minutes later, he climbed down the stairs to the basement. One of the best investments he’d made over the years was expanding and soundproofing the area beneath his house. Unless anyone knew, they’d never guess there was more to the basement than met the eye. Behind the shelving on the far wall lay another room, one almost as large as the original basement. The soundproofing on it was even more impressive and it allowed him to handle business without bothering his neighbors.
The door swung shut behind him. Leaning against the wall, he studied the scene before him. Roy Wysocki stood in the center of the room, hands chained above him, his feet chained to bolts in the floor. He sagged against his bonds. Blood streaked his chest. His breathing ragged, he lifted his head and tried to focus through swollen eyes.
“Roy, you really shouldn’t have let me down,” the man said as he stepped forward. As he did, his companion from the night before appeared from the far end of the room. “Now we’re going to send your wife a little message about what will happen if she fails us.”
“What you want me to do, boss?” the second man asked.
“She needs to see we’re serious.” He cocked his head to one side as he studied their captive. Then he glanced at his watch. “She has forty-four hours left to kill Santos. Set your camera up and let her see a little of your knife work. Let him scream all he wants. No one will hear. Just make sure not to hurt him so badly he dies before her time’s up.”
“Understood.” The man grinned and Roy moaned in fear.
“Bring me the video when you’re done. You have half an hour.”
With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Whistling happily, he counted down the hours until he could implement the next phase of his plan. But that had to wait until Santos was out of the picture. She needed to be removed from the equation before anything else could be done. He wasn’t going to make the mistake others had of underestimating her.
Besides, her death would distract her mate and the other members of the pride, making them all easier prey to bring down.
He only wished he could be there when Wysocki struck. He wanted to see Santos’ expression when she realized why she had to die and who was responsible.
17
Pat stepped inside and looked around. Overnight, the conference room had been transformed. Several smart boards as well as an old-fashioned white board had been moved in. The sing
le conference table had been replaced by several smaller tables as well as a couple of desks. A battered, narrow table rested against the wall to her right. On it rested a coffee maker, requisite supplies and half a dozen or so mugs. Several boxes of doughnuts sat next to them. A single file cabinet stood next to the table. What had been a generic conference room the day before now resembled a small bullpen.
Good.
Even better was the sight of several of those assigned to the case already hard at work. Shelly Tanaka worked to set up the smart boards. Officer Murray wrote on the white board, laying out what they knew so far about the case. Timmons had commandeered one of the desks and busily typed away on his laptop. Norwood and Buttkowski sat at one of the tables, reviewing their notes.
Pat moved across the room to where Marie Duncan sat at the second work table. As she did, the woman looked up and nodded. Anger and concern clouded her eyes. Pat rested a light hand on her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. Hopefully, that was enough to let her know Mac was getting better. Until they were somewhere private, she didn’t want to say much more. Culver, not to mention Jackson and Ellen, had made it clear that they didn’t want anyone but their inner circle knowing Mac’s true condition.
“LT.” Tanaka finished programming the smart board and glanced at Murray’s work, nodding in approval.
“You’ve been busy.” She studied the three boards. Despite all the data displayed, they still didn’t have an ID on the shooter.
“The case is personal, LT.”
Pat nodded. Personal was putting it mildly.
“Finish up. We’ll get started once you have.”
After pouring herself a mug of coffee, Pat moved to stand in the corner near the larger of the smart boards. She watched as members of the squad arrived, each carefully closing the door behind them to prevent anyone else from seeing inside. Still, as the room began to fill, she knew she needed to step in. There were too many people present and that meant too much of a chance for information to leak out.
Nocturnal Revelations Page 17