“I know you are.” And she believed that. If Alec was some sort of devious mastermind, she’d drink a fifth of vodka. “I wish I knew why Lansing picked me.” She pulled her knees close to her chin. Soon, that motion would be impossible as her belly expanded. The easiest explanation for why she’d been picked was that Hawk knew she was Lily and wanted to use her or hurt her for some reason. He’d certainly seemed eager to be in her company yesterday.
But that didn’t fit what she’d seen in the interview with Hawk and Cheshire. Hawk had settled into a cold rage the minute he realized he was the father of her son. Cheshire claimed Lansing had specifically picked her, and Hawk had hated Lansing. She didn’t think they would’ve worked together.
She slipped her hand inside her sweater and curled it around the handle of the gun Hawk had given her. He probably never expected her to use it against him.
Or maybe he did.
“I want to talk to H—er, Drake as soon as he’s back.” If Hawk could be coldly patient, so could she. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Chapter Thirteen
Philip had learned as a child that sleep was a valuable commodity, so he followed Gabe’s advice and slept, though fitfully. He’d be no good to Del Sefton and her child if he went about with his mind muddled and his body’s reflexes dulled by exhaustion.
As he woke, Philip repeated her name over and over to sear it into his brain. Delilah Sefton. Del Sefton. Del. He had to banish Lily and think of the woman only as Del. Because if he thought of her as Lily, he wouldn’t be able to think at all.
He sought out Gabe in the Phoenix Institute’s CIC. Combat Information Central. On a ship or submarine, that meant a secure area safe from elements. Here, it meant a panic room whose only entry was a door of double steel, secured by two locks with passcode and handprint identification. This was Lansing’s design, and Philip wished Alec had ripped up the entire room and started fresh. Lansing had hidden Orion Systems from Alec. There could be something hidden in this security system that was equally dangerous.
If he’d been Alec, he’d have burned the whole place down and started over.
Inside, the CIC was strictly military design, which made perfect sense given that all the members of Alec’s F-Team were veterans. Gray walls, gray floors, gray counters. The chairs were the only comfort in the room, gray-metal chairs with leather padding. It was so utilitarian that Philip was comforted. No sign of Lansing here.
The emphasis was in the gadgets and tech, not the interior decorating. Gabe liked his toys. Philip didn’t blame him. A wall of computer monitors linked to cameras on the Institute grounds dominated one side of the room. The opposite wall had another set of monitors, these hooked up to various PCs and other devices.
Gabe was already at work when Philip entered, sifting through numerical data on one of the monitors above him. Another screen was covered in symbols that Philip couldn’t decipher.
“Is that the flash drive information?” Philip pointed to the symbols.
Gabe twisted in his chair, keeping his feet resting on the metal counter that ran the length of the room. “Yep. What you’re seeing right now is the encryption decoder program that a friend at the NSA sent. It’s working to put it all into English that we can read but it’s slow. There are a lot of obscure scientific words. But at least I got past the fail safes that would have scrubbed the data.”
“How long will it take?”
“No telling for certain, but at least a day.”
Damn. Philip reminded himself that patience was necessary in investigations. But he wanted Del back in her normal life now. “And the other screen?”
“Bank records. I’m tracking the money that flowed into Orion Systems from the dummy company that Lansing created to cover his tracks. Whoever cut the checks for Orion might have known what was going on. That might give us a clue as to how Genet slipped in as the lab’s manager.”
“Genet had help.”
“And money’s the best way of finding out who,” Gabe said.
Philip wondered if the help had been the mysterious watchers the late Richard Lansing had noted in his personal journal. Lansing had just said “they” were watching and might act. He had feared their interference in his grand schemes. Thus far, Philip had not found any clues beyond Alec and Beth’s report of a mental “sponginess” during the container ship assault.
All Philip knew was that someone else was out there with psychic abilities, an unknown agenda and with enough skill to hide their tracks from him. It was possible they were behind Genet. And that their agenda included Del’s son.
My son.
“How would you like to do something more direct?” Philip asked.
Gabe swiveled his chair to face Philip. “What did you have in mind?”
“I installed a tracking bug on Genet’s car yesterday.”
“Shit, why didn’t you tell me yesterday, I could’ve—”
“Genet ditched the car at a commuter lot about two miles from Orion Systems.” Philip had checked that yesterday on his smart phone while driving to protect Del.
“Damn.”
“It’s still a lead, depending on how good you are at accessing systems where you don’t belong.”
Gabe cracked his knuckles. “Now you have my full attention.”
“The commuter lot is right near the entrance to Interstate 80. If I had been Genet, I would’ve picked that spot to switch cars so I could get somewhere on the highway. Genet was at an office building near Del’s home in less than an hour.”
“He zipped right down the highway.”
“Probably. If we could access state police cameras that monitor the highway or even hack into any local cameras that happened to catch Genet by accident, we could find out what he’s driving right now.”
“You want me to find a back-door access into the state police?”
“Yes. And any local merchants, like gas stations or convenience stores that have exterior cameras.”
“Local merchants usually have closed systems, meaning their cameras feed directly to their computers rather than being on a broadcast signal. I’ll have to take over their computers instead of tuning into the right frequency.”
Philip crossed his arms over his chest. “Think you can handle that?”
Gabe frowned. “It’s hours of work at best, a couple of days’ work at most. And I’m already involved in two big projects.”
Philip smiled. “You can obviously multitask.”
Gabe nodded after a few seconds. “That I can.” He turned back to his keyboard.
“Before you get too engrossed, did your team take video on the raid of Cheshire’s home?” Philip asked.
“Yeah. It’s queued up on computer five.” Gabe waved his hands at the PC in the corner.
Philip put on the headphones for computer five, a tricked-up desktop PC that was running what he thought was a Linux system. It could also be of Gabe’s own design. He wasn’t knowledgeable enough about tech to tell the difference.
He settled back in as the video began running, trying to keep his mind open to all impressions. Gabe’s team had likely been through it, but a fresh set of eyes might spot something.
Cheshire lived in a condo development, not unlike the one where Philip lived. Gabe’s crew had entered through the front door, presumably using Cheshire’s own key. The design was basic as well. There was an entranceway and hallways with a living room to the right. Steps led upstairs, and the kitchen was located at the back of the hallway.
Cheshire had done little to decorate his home. It still had the same dull tan original carpet and white walls. There were no photos or artwork on the wall in the living room. The mantel above the faux fireplace was empty.
The camera moved into the living room first. The television/entertainment area had been obviously searched before F-Team arrived. DVDs littered the carpet and all the contents of all the drawers of the television stand had been dumped on the floor. That was a mistake, Philip thought. He would�
�ve confiscated all the DVDs in the theory the back-up discs could be disguised among the movies and television shows. Or perhaps whoever searched the place had found it among the DVDs and simply left the others.
The team moved into the office past the living room. It had obviously been designed as a dining room but Cheshire had packed it with several computers, shelves of books and research materials, three file cabinets and two desks.
This room looked like a tornado had gone through it.
The file cabinets had been pushed over on their sides. Papers, pens and other office materials littered the floor. The side of one cabinet had been peeled back to expose the innards. Someone had hoped to find a hidden compartment in it. He doubted they had because then they would have stopped the search. Instead, desks had been tipped over and walls had been punctured in several places as if someone thought there might be something hidden inside the drywall. Again, impossible to tell if anything had been found, but it didn’t look like the sheetrock had hidden anything.
In the kitchen, cabinets and drawers were all open. Cooking utensils and food were scattered on the floor. Someone had opened the fridge but nothing of interest was in there. The fridge itself had been pulled away from the wall.
Upstairs, there was the same chaos. Philip guessed Genet’s people had found nothing downstairs and so kept going. The fact the place was in such disorder might mean the original searchers had found nothing or that it took them a long search to find it. How badly did these people want Cheshire’s records? Because there was only one place they existed now: Cheshire’s head. Philip wondered what would happen if they let the doctor go home to put his condo back together. Would that draw Genet’s men out in the open to grab him? They might be even watching the place right now.
If it had been him after the doctor, Philip would have left hidden cameras and audio surveillance in the condo. Just in case anyone came back.
He took off the headphones and swiveled the chair toward Gabe. “Did you look for surveillance left by the searchers?”
Gabe held up a finger to signal Philip to wait a moment. Philip ground his teeth and stared at the monitor with the decoding program running. It still didn’t make sense to him.
Gabe finally turned to him. “Yeah, we found bugs. I tried tracking their signal but had no luck, so I shut them down instead.”
“They never found what they were looking for.”
“I’m guessing not. Neither did we. Our search yielded zip.” Gabe sighed. He looked up at the bank records and the decoder program. “I hate slow. Wait. I might have something on a camera at a service station near I-80. They’re broadcasting on a common frequency. We got lucky.”
Grainy video came up on the sixty-inch screen that dominated one wall. “I’ve got three vehicles leaving around the time Genet might have had to get on the highway. There’s one with the driver as the right height and body build.” Gabe zeroed in on a BMW sedan.
“Too grainy for proper ID and the license plate is obscured,” Philip said. “But it’s close, down to the suit.”
“I know.”
The video showed the man driving the car getting his tank filled. Not only that, he’d gotten out of the car and purchased a cup of coffee.
“Can your programs run while you’re gone?” Philip asked.
Gabe leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, for a few hours. Why?”
“Boots on the ground are still the best for real detective work. Genet’s memorable, especially with that imperious air of his. We need to talk to the employees of the convenience store as soon as possible, while their memory of him is fresh.”
“What could they tell us other than give us a description, which we already have?”
“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? We don’t know until we ask.”
Philip tossed a vaguely army-like green jacket over his black T-shirt and walked with Gabe into the parking lot. He jingled the keys to the Charger in his pocket, debating whether to take the car.
After a minute of waiting, Gabe spoke. “I thought we were in a hurry.”
“I’m deciding how to play it with the store clerks. If I take my car, it’ll be remembered. That might be useful, but it also might be foolish, depending on whether Genet finds out someone was asking about him.” The Charger had been useful at Del’s bar, gaining him instant solidarity with the regulars. This time, though, his instincts said to take a vehicle that wouldn’t be noticed.
“We’ll take one of the vans. You have keys?”
“Sure,” Gabe said. “I’ll drive.”
Once they were off, Gabe glanced at him. “Do you do that all the time?”
“I don’t understand your question.”
“I meant do you weigh all the angles and outcomes before you act all the time?” Gabe turned from the Institute entrance onto the road.
“Yes.”
“That must get tiring.”
“When you start decoding a program or hacking into another system, you investigate all the possible outcomes before you start before deciding how best to approach them. It’s the same thing.”
“That’s tech, though. What you do is a hell of a way to live your life.”
Very true. “You were a tech nerd among your fellow officers in the Army. A gay tech nerd. You had to weigh all the angles to survive. That’s similar.”
“Ah, it wasn’t so bad. At first I was the skinny nerd. Once I proved I could handle basic, though, I was the tough skinny nerd. Then when I got assigned to tech in the field, I was the skinny nerd miracle worker. Nobody liked me much—they figured I was gay—but we needed each other. During our first engagement, though, I was able to call in air help. Then I became their skinny gay tech miracle worker.” He grinned. “After a year, I had a squad of butch straight guys willing to beat up anyone who made fun of me.”
Philip nodded. Combat made the strongest bonds.
“Were you ever with a unit?” Gabe asked.
“No.” No band of brothers for him. It seemed like he’d spent his life undercover, blending in by becoming whatever was needed. It had, he mused, included being gay twice.
“If you work by yourself, why ask me to go with you today?” Gabe asked.
“I was nearly blown up, attacked and almost shot yesterday. Not smart to go out alone, even on a job like this, which seems simple. At the least, you’ll be a witness if something goes wrong. You’re armed, yes?”
“Yes.”
Gabe asked no more questions and Philip offered no more conversation. As they pulled into the service station, Philip ran a hand through his hair to muff it up. He hadn’t shaved this morning. Good, that would complete the look.
“Follow my lead,” Philip ordered.
“If I can tell what it is,” Gabe said.
Philip shrugged.
The service station was modern, with a big canopy loaded with blaring fluorescent lights set over the gas pumps. Philip scanned the station workers, looking for the medium-sized African-American woman who’d pumped Genet’s gas. For investigative purposes, they were lucky that New Jersey still refused to allow self-serve islands. It meant that Genet had had to interact with someone.
He found the woman working the counter in the station’s convenience store. He waited until the crowd thinned out, approached her, and paid for a pack of Marlboro Reds. He pocketed the cigarettes and a pack of matches and took his change.
“So, I’m looking for a man,” he said to her.
“Ain’t we all, babe,” she said.
He smiled. “But I’m thinking you can help me.” He pulled out a wad of bills.
She frowned and drew him off to the side. “Hey, I ain’t getting involved in anything that requires a payoff. Out.” She pointed at the door.
Philip pointed to Gabe. “I’m helping out my cousin. Seems he picked up this hot guy yesterday. They had a good time then this fucker runs out with my aunt’s car the morning after.”
She looked over at Gabe, who shuffled his feet, hunched his shoulders a
nd looked at the floor.
“Like I care. You could report that to the cops.”
“Yeah, then he’d be out of the closet with his mom. She’d fucking kill him.” Philip shook his head. “And I’d have to be the one to tell her. Not doing it. Not to mention I’d have to take the bum in to live at my place. Family.” He shrugged.
The woman laughed. “I hear that. So what do you want?”
“This guy might’ve filled up here. I just wanna know if he said anything about where he’s going.”
She shrugged. “Ain’t no guarantee I’m going to remember your guy. Lot of guys come through, lot of them are hot.”
“He’s really cute,” Gabe mumbled. “Blond curls.”
“Well, I might remember that,” the woman said.
Philip peeled off a hundred-dollar bill. “Help me out. This will be cheaper for me than putting my cousin up.” He jabbed his thumb at Gabe. “This guy came in about nine a.m. yesterday driving a BMW. Tall, blond, arrogant. Lots of curls, like he says.”
“I like curls,” Gabe said.
“Yeah, I like them too.” The woman snatched the hundred out of Philip’s hand. “I would’ve liked them on this guy too but they came with a lot of fucking attitude.” She nodded. “Your guy tried to get me to bring him a cup of coffee while I was filling him up. I told him get his own damn coffee, it’s my job to pump gas, not fetch for some jerk who won’t get out of the car. Asshole. He did get his own coffee eventually. After holding up the car behind him.”
“Yeah, that’s the arrogant son of a bitch,” Philip said. “He say anything you remember? Something that might help us find him?”
“Well…” She looked at the wad of money in his hand.
He gave her another hundred. Apparently, she’d get involved if someone pissed her off. “Did he pay with a credit card?”
“Nope, cash, but I got something better than a credit card number.” She grinned. “I thought, this guy needs a lesson in manners. I got a cousin too, only mine works for the state cops assigned to I-80. So I took down this asshole’s license plate and passed it on to my cousin when I saw the asshole heading out west on the highway.”
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