Deadly Pasts (Agent Nora Wexler Mysteries)

by CR Wiley

  On the phone screen, he brought up the hacking forum and quickly registered the username cat_food2. Smacking his thumbs against the screen, he finally sent a message asking Nora what was going on. So many questions were running through his mind. How did they know where to find him? Where had he been careless?

  He needed to alert the other guys in OpenSwordsed, unless they’d already been caught and had turned him in.

  The response came through quickly, something he could’ve kissed her for, not that he would’ve needed much incentive to do that beyond her perfect body.

  “You’re wanted for hacking into an FBI data center. How did you do it?”

  This was news to Danny. He glared incredulously at the screen. His mouth hung open as a shiver came over him. He typed furiously.

  “I did nothing of the kind. Nora, they’re tearing my house apart!”

  As he waited for a response, he noticed he was getting looks from the receptionist and the people in the office. His time was running out.

  “It’s no use denying it. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how you did it.”

  “I’m serious. No clue what you’re talking about. I never touched any FBI data center. I’d never do that to you! You have to help me!”

  There was an uncomfortable pause that had Danny sweating. His eyes were glued to the screen. The idea that he’d infiltrated a data center was ridiculous. He knew better than to play with fire like that and she had to believe him. Danny squeezed the phone until another message came through.

  “Get clear of Portland. Lose your cc. Contact me here when you are safe.”

  Danny shot up from his chair and began making his way past the other patients for the door.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” the female receptionist asked.

  “Yes, please throw this out for me,” he asked, sliding the phone onto the tabletop in front of her. They were probably already tracing it. When they found it, they’d have his fingerprints.

  In another second, he was out the door and running to the east side of the building, away from his house. He had no idea if the police were already prowling the area but he had to get out of town unnoticed.

  The thing about the FBI data center was complete madness and Nora must’ve known it, otherwise she’d be bringing him in herself. As it was, she was his only lifeline.

  Tramping down the stairs and exiting out of a door on the opposite side of the building, he cautiously glanced at the street before marching east along the sidewalk. The train station wasn’t that far away, but he had to guess it was already being monitored.

  Danny spotted a police cruiser down the street coming his way. Had the hunt begun or was someone late to the party? He didn’t want to find out. Danny approached a few people climbing into a parked car near a vegan hotdog joint.

  “Hey, excuse me, I’ll give you twenty bucks if you can take me to Courthouse Square,” he said, ducking and climbing into the backseat.

  “Are you kidding me? Get lost,” a guy said, grabbing him by the coat and pulling him back. Danny remained in a crouched position. The cruiser was almost by them. If it saw him fighting with people on the street, escape would become an impossibility.

  “Come on, I really need some help,” he pleaded.

  “Try a rehab clinic,” the guy said, shoving Danny onto his back and slamming the car door.

  His back on the ground, Danny spotted the cruiser’s break lights coming on to his right. The departing car gave him some cover to get on his feet and start off in the opposite direction. He didn’t dare to cross the street until the cruiser was out of sight. He turned down 22nd St with the idea to find some way to get onto Rt. 30.

  In the past few years, Danny had spent many idle minutes thinking about what he would do if something blew up in his face and he suddenly found himself on the run. Now all of his plans swirled together with paranoia and some unseemly sweat building around his armpits. Could he just find a cab and get a ride down to Oregon City, or would there be roadblocks setup on the way out of town? Would the drivers know to look for him and hand him over?

  If they did, Danny guessed it would have more to do with his clothes than his face. Jarred must’ve given the cops a full description of what Danny was wearing, especially the jacket with the red stripe across the chest. It would have to go, but dropping it where someone could find it and walking around in a plainly inappropriate wife-beater wasn’t the answer.

  He spotted a gym up ahead, where he purchased a cross-fit sweatshirt of a kind he would never wear voluntarily, and a gray cap. That left him with less than ten dollars. Rather than leaving right away, Danny wondered if this gym would be a good place to hang out for a while. He asked the cashier if there was a public computer or a phone he could use, but there was no luck there.

  The pressure was overwhelming him, and as he took a seat and plotted where he’d go next, the feeling that they were going to capture him sunk in. Danny couldn’t go to jail, couldn’t be framed for something he didn’t do and say goodbye to freedom forever.

  That feeling only grew worse when he glanced through the glass doors at the workout room and spotted his face on the TV screens above the treadmills. Soon everybody would be on the lookout for him. He wouldn’t be able to set foot in a café, buy a train ticket, or even walk down the street without someone recognizing him. He felt sick to his stomach.

  There was no TV in the check-in area, but the female cashier was still looking at him. On the wall to his right was a row of hooks for car keys, about half of them in use.

  “I’d like to start a membership,” he said, standing up. He had no idea what he was doing. When the girl behind the counter turned to grab some forms, Danny slipped one set of keys off the rack. When she turned back, he added, “I’ve just got to get something from my car.”

  Out in the parking lot, he clutched the fat, black remote starter and hit the unlock button. In the middle of the lot, a pricy blue coupe sounded a beep, beckoning Danny toward it. Farther down, a young couple were getting out of their car, but unless they knew the car owner they wouldn’t get the idea that anything was wrong. At least not until they got on a treadmill and saw his face on the news.

  Why had the police put him on the news so quickly anyway? They must’ve really wanted him.

  Pulling open the door and sliding onto the Lexus’s leather seat, Danny started the car and abruptly drove out of the parking spot. He nearly hit the couple walking toward the gym’s entrance. His jumbled thoughts were leading him to stupid mistakes that would draw attention, but for the moment it didn’t seem to matter because he was turning onto Rt. 30 and would cruise onto I-495, then onto I-5 and be out of town in a matter of minutes.

  The car’s stereo blared some funky music from a bluegrass ensemble. He shut it off, hoping it would calm him down and give him a chance to think. It took him a minute to realize he was doing ten miles above the speed limit. He slowed down, kicking himself again for letting the pressure get to him.

  “No more stupid mistakes,” he said to himself.

  He had to focus because things were getting serious. The stolen car presented more complications. It would have to be hidden somewhere, but mostly Danny was concerned about getting back online and finding out more from Nora. After he’d done her such a big favor, she had to help him get out of this. Where could he go that the FBI couldn’t find him?

  Passing through downtown, Danny saw police cruisers everywhere. More than once he saw a black sedan that seemed identical to the one he’d seen arriving at his former apartment. But the highway took him clear past all of it, and the end of Portland’s city limits was squarely in his sights.

  Danny finally took a deep breath and started to calm down, remembering that budget cutbacks had slashed the number of state troopers patrolling the highways. As long as he could find a place with a good Internet connection, he could hole up for a while until Nora could sort the whole thing out.

  But he had no idea where to go. Other tha
n people on the Internet who could live anywhere, his friends were all either in Portland or back in college at Berkeley.

  It struck him that Berkeley could be a good place to hide out. He still had his student ID in his wallet, which meant he could get access to the computer terminal in the library. There had to be some people in town he knew who would take him in for a while. In his mind, the Berkeley police and campus security were something of a joke. As long as he tossed the license plates for the Lexus, even having it sit in plain sight might be fine.

  The car had only a half a tank of gas. He’d have to stop and refuel to make the ten-hour drive down the coast. Danny glanced in the cup holder and found what looked like five dollars in change. There were some CDs in the car and a blanket on the backseat, things that would probably be tough to sell in a pinch. Buying the sweatshirt had been a costly mistake. One way or another, he was going to have to scrounge up more money for gas to make it all the way to Berkeley.

  But at least he had a destination and one person trying to help him climb out of this trap.

  CHAPTER 12

  2399 TELEGRAPH AVENUE

  BERKELEY, CA

  Looking at the Tau Kappa Epsilon house in broad daylight was a little like seeing Christmas decorations in February. It shed any hint of glitz and liveliness it might have had until only questions about when the owner was going to get around to dealing with it remained. Other than the beer cans and red plastic cups on the lawn, the building’s chipped paint on the porch and siding made a clear contrast against the fraternity’s insignia on woven banners hanging from above.

  There were times in her life when Nora wanted nothing more than to find herself in a place like this, but today wasn’t one of those times.

  She knocked on the door until it swung open.

  “Hello? Is anybody here?” she asked, stepping onto the foyer’s tile floor. Noise from upstairs gave her the answer. She heard the sounds of gunshots and laughter and put together that it was a video game before she got carried away with herself.

  She heard creaking footsteps and looked up to see a member of the fraternity shuffling down the stairs. It was the middle of the day, but he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. He was a scrawny guy with a cluster of pimples that looked like a constellation on his left cheek. Once he saw Nora, he stopped and leaned over the banister, a smile broadening on his face.

  “You need something?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m looking for Marvin James, David Reeves, and Grant Oip. Do you know any of them?”

  “I’m Marvin,” he said. Nora nodded and took a closer look at him. After reading the initial statements these young men gave to campus security, Nora had already researched them extensively. She knew what they looked like, what classes they were taking, where they were from, and their contact information. All that and more was already in her folder.

  “Oh, great,” she said, trying to disarm him with a measured smile. “Do you have a few minutes to talk? I’d like to ask you some questions.”

  “That depends. Who are you and why are you here asking questions?”

  Marvin descended to the foyer floor. They were about the same height, but Nora guessed from the awkward way he walked that he might still have some growing to do. He seemed plenty alert though and didn’t hesitate with his responses. Nora thought better about trying to put something over him by claiming to be a journalist or even a fellow student.

  “I’m a friend of Lauren Devonshire. I’m trying to find out more about what happened on Saturday night,” she said, immediately sensing Marvin close off and develop a focused look in his brown eyes. The boys here must’ve known they were in hot water, but Nora needed to find a way to get to the truth.

  “I told the campus cops everything about what happened to her. There’s really nothing more to say,” he said.

  Nora nodded and approached him slowly. Marvin seemed like a smart guy who was trying to be cool by being in a fraternity, or maybe he was using that as a way to gain access to women, who might otherwise not find him very appealing. Smiling and pretending to scratch the side of her head as she shook out her strawberry blonde hair, Nora shrugged and exhaled deeply.

  “I’m sure you did, but I’m just trying to get more of a general sense of what kinds of things were going on that night and who else might’ve been around,” she said.

  Marvin stared into her eyes and subtly shook his head.

  “Are you really trying to exploit your sex appeal to get me to talk to you about an alleged sexual assault? Doesn’t that seem wrong to you?”

  Nora felt crippling embarrassment. It had been a terrible mistake and he’d called her out on it. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to do things the hard way. She needed to step up her game.

  “Hmm. And you told campus police that you don’t remember a single thing that happened that night or have any idea who was there. Who exactly do you think you’re kidding with a statement like that?” Nora asked, peering at him.

  Marvin scoffed at her, a deadpan look on his face.

  “I was really wasted and blacked out pretty much everything. It happens.”

  “Yes, but not to you, because you have a liver problem that prevents you from drinking alcohol,” Nora said. A flicker of fear appeared in the young man’s eyes that was beautiful to see.

  “That’s ridiculous. What makes you think that?” he asked.

  “You said it yourself in a Facebook post during your senior year of high school. Do you want me to read it to you?” she said, opening her folder. “You said you’ll be packing alcohol free beer for after prom because of your stupid bum liver. Do you think if we looked around here we could find more alcohol free beer?”

  “I uh…‌I…” he said, stammering.

  “You lied, and once the police find out they’re not going to be happy,” Nora said.

  “You’ll have to talk to my lawyer if you want to say anything to me,” Marvin said. It was a predictable dodge, and she was ready for it.

  “Why do you need a lawyer? You’re not being accused of anything. If you’re not being accused of anything and you think you need a lawyer, that probably means you have reason to believe you’ll be accused of something later. Did you do something that’s going to require a lawyer, or can you be a witness who can provide a factually accurate testament of what happened?”

  Marvin swallowed and struggled to regain his composure. She offered him a way off the hot seat, all he needed to do was take it.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said.

  “Did you see Lauren Devonshire here Saturday night after the football game?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was she doing when you saw her?”

  “She was drinking and hanging around the football players like everyone else.”

  “What happened to her after that?”

  “I think they were playing a drinking game.”

  “Did the drinks contain any drugs?”

  “No, there was nothing like that.”

  “Was it apparent to you when Lauren had lost control of her faculties?”

  “I really wasn’t around that much. It’s a big house.”

  “Did you have any sexual contact with her?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Do you know if anyone had any sexual contact with her?”

  Marvin scoffed and shook his head.

  “She was hanging all over Preston Lowery. If anyone did, it’d be him.

  “Are you telling me the truth? Is there anything else you’re leaving out?”

  But before Marvin could answer, his attention shifted to the top of the stairs. Nora’s head jerked and she saw a few members of the fraternity staring at her from above.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” Marvin said, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest. Nora’s eyes panned the foyer. Too many boys, too many threatening eyes upon her.

  “I hope so, because we’re going to get to the bottom of this, with or without your cooper
ation. And I’m sure the police will have more to say to you when they find out about your liver,” Nora said, brushing past him and out the door. Laughter echoed behind her. She clenched her teeth.

  The practice fields near Memorial Stadium were a popular place during the late afternoon when the team went through their drills. The bleachers served as a hangout spot for fans, journalists writing about the team, or just anybody looking for something to watch.

  After hearing from Marvin that Preston Lowery was the most likely perpetrator, she decided he was the next one she needed to speak to. Getting to him off the practice field and alone where they could have a real conversation was going to require some quick thinking. When she arrived, the handsome young man was running routes on the field in a tight t-shirt and compression shorts, dashing out and then suddenly cutting to the right just as the quarterback hurled the ball.

  The truth was that the rape kit didn’t turn up any signs of semen in Lauren’s vagina. Anyone that she’d been with had used condoms, making it vital that the perpetrators confess. Until other tests came through or Lauren’s memory returned, they needed someone to help them figure out what happened.

  Waving from the sidelines and telling him to walk off the field wasn’t going to work. After watching for a few minutes, she instead approached an older man with a clipboard, who she remembered from the game. He was the one barking orders at Preston, probably the offensive coordinator. His glory days of football must’ve been all the way back before they wore helmets.

  “Excuse me,” she said twice after he ignored her the first time. He begrudgingly shifted his attention and grumbled. “I’m working with campus security and I need to talk to Preston Lowery about an event that happened over the weekend.”

  “What a bunch of nonsense,” he said. Nora hadn’t been sure that he was paying attention, much less knew what she was talking about.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “She was asking for it. The only thing worth investigating is how these girls can throw themselves at the players, regret it later, and get anybody to take them seriously,” he said, shaking his head.