“We have no obvious cause of death, so let’s be careful about referring to this as a homicide,” Marcie warned Connor.
He scoffed. “The kid was involved in a major investigation and is found dead under suspicious circumstances. And there are two burner phones at the scene. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”
Marcie frowned. “Something feels off to me, too, but I don’t want the parents to think he was murdered if it turns out that he died of natural causes.”
Becca went back to the phone and reviewed the internet history. She read the last webpage accessed.
“Oh, no,” she said, her blood running cold. She showed the screen to Marcie, then faced Connor. “Someone was searching for how to commit murder with an ICD and make it look like an accident.”
Marcie’s face paled.
“Okay, I’m in the dark here,” Connor said. “Someone care to explain, starting with what ICD stands for?”
“It’s an implantable cardioverter defibrillator,” Marcie said. “It sits under the skin, near the heart to detect an abnormal heartbeat and deliver an internal shock to regulate it.”
“Hamid has one of these?” he asked.
Marcie shrugged. “He has a device implanted near his heart, but I can’t tell if it’s a pacemaker or an ICD. If it’s an ICD, this could very well be our cause of death.”
“How does a person kill someone with this?” Connor asked.
“Patients with an ICD usually have bedside monitors/transmitters that collect the data from the device,” Marcie explained. “The device then transmits the data to the physician, allowing him to adjust the settings remotely. If Hamid’s implant is an ICD, and if—this is a really big ‘if’ in my book—if someone got their hands on his transmitter, they could modify the programming and deliver a fatal shock to his system.”
Becca’s stomach clenched. “It also says there’s never been an actual account of committing murder this way, but it’s possible. What do you think, Marcie?”
“I don’t know anything about changing the programming, but if it can be changed, the transmitter has the capacity to deliver a life-ending shock.” Marcie shook her head. “First, I need to confirm Hamid has an ICD. If so, I’ll need to get the device to the manufacturer, who can tell us if the transmitter was altered.”
“How long will that take?” Connor asked.
“Could take weeks.”
“We don’t have that long,” Becca grumbled.
“One of you could contact the manufacturer and try to speed things up.”
“Once you confirm the ICD, give me the details for the device and I’ll take care of it,” Becca offered. “In the meantime, I’m headed over to Hamid’s house to notify his mother. What should I tell her?”
“We’ll head over there.” Connor gave Becca a pointed look.
“Tell the mother he died of unknown causes, and we’ll know more after the autopsy.” Marcie looked at Hamid. “You might want to ask if Hamid had an ICD and monitor. I don’t think the transmitter can communicate with the device over a long distance, so if the monitor is at his house, it’s unlikely he died this way.”
“I’ll call you after I talk to her.” Becca turned to Connor. “Can you make sure your team searches for the monitor when they comb the area?”
He nodded and stepped off.
“I’ll get the body to the morgue and get started.” A grim expression on her face, Marcie turned back to Hamid.
Becca bagged the phone and waited for Connor to finish talking to his team. She hated being there. Hated seeing Hamid, but she was glad to have Connor’s company for the death notification. It was going to be rough.
He soon joined her, a determined look on his face. “Let’s get going.”
Becca started down the path and heard Connor thumping along behind her. She didn’t feel like talking, so she kept her head down. Suspicious deaths like Hamid’s were always hard to take, but when the victim was just a teenager with so much of his life ahead of him? That left an ache in Becca’s heart. A big one, right next to the lingering sadness she felt for Molly. That kind of grief never disappeared. Becca understood, more than many detectives, the anguish Hamid’s mother was about to experience.
Mrs. Ahmadi took it as badly as Becca suspected she would, nearly collapsing on the floor.
Becca helped her to the sofa. “Can I get you a glass of water?”
“No.” The word came out in a strangled cry as her gaze darted around the room. “When can I see him? I have to see him.”
“We’ll arrange it with the medical examiner and let you know as soon as possible,” Connor offered.
“Thank you.” She wrung her hands together. “I always feared this day would come. He has a heart condition and the ICD worked well, but . . .” She let out a long, shuddering breath. “Look at me, assuming that’s how he died when we don’t know anything.”
“So he had an ICD?” Becca clarified.
Mrs. Ahmadi nodded. “His bedside transmitter could help them determine if his heart failed. I’ll get it.” She jumped up and rushed from the room before Becca could say a word.
“I was hoping he didn’t have an ICD.” Connor took a seat across from her. He wore a gloomy expression that matched the emotions churning in Becca’s gut.
“Me too,” she replied, and they fell silent.
Mrs. Ahmadi barreled back into the room and stood gaping at them. “It’s gone. Someone took it. I don’t know who . . . where . . . it’s missing.”
“Calm down, Mrs. Ahmadi.” Becca led her back to the sofa and tried to remain calm herself. “Tell me what’s missing.”
“His monitor. The one that reads his ICD.”
Becca glanced at Connor. Grim recognition sat on his face. Someone had likely killed Hamid using his transmitter, but before Becca called Marcie, she needed to confirm the device was missing and hadn’t just been moved.
Mrs. Ahmadi started crying and dropped onto the sofa. “In all the craziness, I didn’t bring it to the hotel. I should have. How could I forget? I never forget.”
“You were too busy worrying about how to help Hamid avoid incarceration.” Becca softened her voice. “You couldn’t think of everything.”
“Now it’s gone,” Mrs. Ahmadi lamented. “Who would steal such a thing and why?”
Becca hated to question Mrs. Ahmadi when she was so upset, but it had to be done. “Did you notice anything else missing, Mrs. Ahmadi?”
She swiped at tears with the back of her hand. “No. No. I don’t think so. But I didn’t check that carefully.”
“Why don’t we walk through the house together and take another look?” Becca suggested.
“Yes. Yes.” She shot up and hurried to the stairs.
Connor stood. “I’ll see if I can find any sign of a break-in while you’re upstairs.”
Becca escorted Mrs. Ahmadi through the bedrooms. She searched every corner and even pulled out drawers. If this had been a random burglary, the drawers would have been dumped on the floor. They weren’t likely to find anything else missing, but Becca let Mrs. Ahmadi continue as a way to work out some of her grief. When they finally met up with Connor, he shook his head.
Becca’s heart fell. They had a theft with no signs of forced entry and only one item missing. Someone wanted the device—and only the device—to kill Hamid with a lethal shock to his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Six
NINA TRIED TO ignore the sensation of the floor swaying under her feet as she disconnected the call to her mother. She was the last person Nina had wanted to contact, but she would have been frantic with worry when Nina didn’t answer her phone now sitting in evidence. She stowed the new phone and watched Ty playing video games on his.
A groan of defeat slipped from his mouth.
The poor kid. He’d been
through so much these last few days. Though Hamid wasn’t Ty’s friend, he was still affected by the loss. And here Ty was, hidden away and on the run like a criminal, most likely worried the same thing would happen to him. Nina was starting to think it would be safer for him to have stayed at the hotel.
She stepped over to Quinn. “Can I talk to you a minute? Alone.” She didn’t wait for an answer but crossed to the far side of the family room, well out of Ty’s hearing.
Quinn joined her. “What’s up?”
“I’m worried about Ty’s safety. With a murderer running loose, I think he’s better off under the FBI’s protection.”
“Are you kidding me?” Steely determination filled his eyes. “Sulyard’s on a rampage. He wants to toss you into a cell for hacking the NFL. He’ll likely find some lame way to connect it to Ty, too. The kid might never make it out of juvie.”
“There’s no way Ty could be charged with the hack. He couldn’t have done it—he was at the hotel under guard.”
“You didn’t do the hack or put that computer in your suitcase either, but Sulyard will haul you in without blinking. The same thing could happen with Hamid’s murder. I won’t let Ty go through that.” Quinn’s voice rose with each statement, drawing Ty’s attention.
“Shh. He can hear you.”
Quinn lowered his voice. “I won’t let him or you go to prison for something you haven’t done.”
He had a point. Not about the hack, as Ty had a strong alibi where she didn’t, but it was hypocritical for her to stay out of jail so she could clear her name and deny Ty the same opportunity.
Quinn stepped closer, his voice even lower. “I get that Ty might still have to serve time for the initial hack, but I won’t let him go to juvie because of something someone else did. Once we sort everything else out, he’ll turn himself in. I guarantee that.” His voice was like stone. Even if it wasn’t, she no longer wanted to argue the point.
The timer dinged in the kitchen. “The chicken should be hot. We’ll all feel a lot better once we have something to eat.”
“Too bad it’s takeout and not your famous fried chicken. That, I could get excited about.” He smiled, but even his boyish grin couldn’t eliminate her fear of Ty somehow getting hurt.
She returned to the kitchen and found him munching on potato chips, acting like a typical teen in a very atypical situation.
“Sorry, Nina,” he mumbled around a mouthful, then swallowed. “I got you into this mess and now you’re in trouble, too.”
“Don’t worry about a thing.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You didn’t plant the computer at my house, so it’s not your fault.”
“Crazy unbelievable, isn’t it?” He shook his head. “I mean some dude broke in and hid it there. I s’pose you’re used to stuff like this, but man . . . I’m sure not.”
She wasn’t used to anything anywhere near this, but she kept quiet and pulled the pan from the oven. “Chicken’s ready.”
“Oh, yeah, bring it on.” He grinned. “Mom’s been watching me like a hawk 24/7. I’ve only had healthy stuff to eat.” He shoved another handful of chips into his mouth.
At his boyish exuberance, Nina’s fears disappeared for a moment. She laughed at his easygoing attitude, so different from the day he and Quinn had told her about the hack. This was the kid Nina knew and loved.
A sudden longing to have someone in her life hit her. After her breakup with Quinn, she’d convinced herself that she could forgo having a family. That Becca and Kait plus her mother and Grandmother Hale were enough for her.
But she was wrong. She wanted someone to come home to every night, to legally call her own. Children. The white picket fence and front porch. Maybe a dog. The whole dream.
Quinn stepped past her to wash his hands, and her dream bubble burst. She wanted the dream all right, but she couldn’t have it with Quinn. Unfortunately, he was the only man who’d ever appeared in that dream.
WILEY HAD TO GET moving. He crept across the parking lot as quiet as a cat. Step by step. On his toes. Right under the big, bad SEAL’s nose.
Hah! The guy thought he was all that. No way. Wiley was the man now. It was time for payback.
If only Wiley could tell Brandt what she had to look forward to. She’d hurl and run screaming. He’d had a rough time in prison, but it was nothing compared to what happened to a law enforcement officer locked up with cons. That was truly hell on earth.
He started down the road, keeping to the shadows. The risk of getting caught had been worth it to remove the GPS trackers so if the SEAL checked again, he would have no idea that Wiley had located their little boat and wouldn’t be prepared for what was about to come.
Now all Wiley had to do was wait for his chance to take Tyler. Hopefully, they’d leave the kid alone tonight and Wiley could grab him. If not, he wasn’t above creating a diversion to draw Tyler away.
He would get the kid. They could bank on that.
QUINN HAD TO END this thing before Ty or Nina got hurt. He glanced at his watch and guessed they had enough time to travel to Portland to talk to the Hacktivist’s database administrator and get the other files Nina needed.
He stepped over to the dining table where Nina was working her way down the remaining names on the Hacktivist list. “The time has come to pay Odell another visit. We can do that and still be on time to meet Becca.”
Nina eyed him warily. “It’s late. We don’t even know where to find Odell.”
“We could stop by his office. If he’s not there, we’ll move on to his house.”
“What if he’s not home?” Nina shook her head. “I still have names on this list to contact. If I stay here, I can keep working. Besides, we don’t have his home address.”
“I have the address.” Quinn smiled. “It was on an envelope on his desk. I grabbed a picture of it when he escorted you to the door. Just in case.”
He expected a bit of admiration for his foresight but received a frown instead. “We could still sit out there for hours until he comes home. I can get a lot done while you and Ty try to locate Odell from here.”
As much as Quinn respected her methodical approach to life, sometimes it drove him absolutely batty. Now was one of those times. “How do you propose we do that?”
“Ty can use your computer to hack Odell’s cell phone account, where he can track his GPS.”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Yes.”
“Couldn’t Ty get in trouble for it?”
“Not likely,” Ty said joining in, a big grin on his face. “I’d be using your laptop, which, if I know you and all this spy business, can’t be tracked back to you. Am I right?”
Quinn nodded, but he still wasn’t ready to give in. “How long would it take to locate Odell’s GPS?”
Ty shrugged. “I could do it in a few minutes or it might take hours. Depends on the security level of his password, or if he even has the GPS turned on.”
Quinn looked at Nina. “That could take even longer than driving over there. Plus, if we have to sit in the car to wait for him, you could work from there. So, let’s go.”
She shook her head.
Quinn crossed his arms. “I’ve followed your plan and sat around for days now. It’s time for you to give my plan a shot for once.”
She chewed on her lip, her stubborn expression melting. “I’ll go as long as we leave Ty here. Sulyard could be watching Odell’s house, and I won’t let Ty get even more involved in this.”
“You good with staying here, bud?” Quinn asked.
Ty nodded, not displaying even a hint of anxiety. A moment of concern badgered Quinn, but he’d covered all bases and no one could possibly know they’d moved to the houseboat. As a precaution he’d just checked the truck for trackers, and as long as Ty didn’t do anything to give away his location, he s
hould be fine.
He fixed a hard stare on the kid. At a flash of defiance from Ty, Quinn felt like his father the control freak. So what? This wasn’t as simple as the things they usually fought about. This was a matter of life and death. “We’re meeting Becca at nine. We’ll be home after that. No one knows our location, so you’re safe. You have my new cell number if you need me. Stay inside. You can keep playing games. Don’t make any calls. Or surf the web. Got it?”
Ty nodded, but the defiance remained.
Quinn stepped closer. “I mean it, Ty. This is serious business. If you’re reckless, you could lead someone here and put Nina in jeopardy.”
“Sheesh. Quit treating me like a baby. I got it already.”
“See that you do.” Quinn went to the counter to gather the items they might need. Nina joined him.
“We’ll take the pickup.” He headed for the door. “It’s easier to maneuver and has four-wheel drive.”
“You planning on doing some off-roading?”
“After the last few days, you never know what we might run into. I plan to be prepared.”
QUINN SWUNG THE truck onto Odell’s street.
“You should park down the block,” Nina said. “In case Sulyard has someone watching the place.”
Quinn had already thought of that—it wasn’t his first rodeo, after all—but there was no point in mentioning it. After parking, he made a thorough sweep of the area with his binoculars. He’d know an agent if he saw one. Luckily, he didn’t see one.
“We’re clear.” He climbed out and met Nina on the sidewalk. He stayed alert as they walked to an apartment building that needed a good coat of paint and fresh landscaping. The hallway wasn’t much better.
At Odell’s door, Nina faced him. “I’ll do the talking.”
“Fine by me.” Quinn pounded on the door. “But I’m not leaving here without the database.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but Odell answered the door before she could.
He scowled at them, his ever-present cigarette between his fingers. “What are you doing here?”
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