Web of Deceit

by Susan Sleeman

  He continued to appraise her, maybe trying to see if she was playing him. “But you thought about it, right?”

  She laughed. “Honestly, no. But even if Fenton’s not the deceased, the code we intercepted suggests his involvement, and I’ll be doing my best to take possession of the computer equipment.”

  “Expected as much, and I’m okay with that. Once you get proper approval, and, of course, if you play nice and share what you find.”

  “What?” She clutched her chest in feigned offense. “You make it sound like agents don’t know how to share.”

  He tilted his head and stared at her. “So you’re saying you’ll play nice?”

  “I will as long as you’ll agree to put up with me on this investigation until the killer is caught. Think you can handle that?”

  “I’d be lying if I said it’d be a hardship.” A slow dawning smile spread across his lips.

  She should turn away—especially with the forensic techs entering the room and dropping off equipment, but she couldn’t seem to pull free. Sam must have noticed the others as he abruptly jerked his gaze away and stepped to the other side of the room.

  Crazy. She was just plain crazy for reacting to him this way. Here, of all places. Now, of all times. Her mission wasn’t over. She still had to see Fenton pay, and even then, she wasn’t free. Not until she honestly worked through Abby’s loss. Through Fenton’s betrayal. Only then could Kait trust a man again. And besides, she was likely the one being played here. He had to know his southern charm and good looks captivated women, and he was more likely trying to divert her attention from his case. Something she wouldn’t allow to happen.

  She caught up to him. “Nice try at distracting me. Now, how did you say the murder was reported?”

  He looked half-impressed and half-irritated that he hadn’t successfully avoided her question. “It was an anonymous call from a payphone.”

  “Strange. That doesn’t happen every day.”

  “No, it doesn’t. And it stays between us for now. Okay?”

  “Sure.” Thinking about all the possibilities of who would make an anonymous call, she followed him around the corner to a hallway.

  The putrid smell hit her full on, and her footsteps faltered. She’d never smelled anything this nauseating in her life, and she was sure she was going to hurl right here.

  Unfazed, Sam stopped near a gurney standing sentry outside a bedroom door and looked back at her. “Coming, Kait?”

  She resisted taking a cleansing breath, which she knew would only worsen her problem, and followed him into a bedroom that had been used as an office. Sam lingered near the door as if waiting to be sure she made it into the room without passing out. Marcie squatted on the far side of the body. A skinny young man with a bad case of acne knelt on the side closest to Kait and blocked her view of the deceased’s face.

  Marcie looked up then nudged the guy. “Tim. This is Special Agent Kaitlyn Knight with the FBI.”

  “Yo.” Clearly unimpressed that she was an agent, Tim didn’t bother to look up.

  “She’s here to ID the body, and you’re in the way.”

  “Have at it.” Tim moved, giving Kait a clear view of the man who was handcuffed to metal bolts in the floor.

  Her stomach roiling, she couldn’t handle seeing the oozing sores Marcie described, so she avoided his face and started with his clothes. He wore a wrinkled T-shirt and baggy jeans that looked like he’d retrieved them from a heap on the floor. Fenton wouldn’t dress this way. Even in death, his clothes would be tailored, pressed, and expensive.

  Disappointment or relief—she wasn’t sure which—settled in. She hadn’t wanted him to be dead, but she also didn’t want him to elude capture.

  She looked at the head. Her stomach threatened to empty as she took in the black hair, broad face, and dark eyes staring lifelessly up at the ceiling. She could mistake this guy for Fenton at a distance, but even with the darkened color of the skin and accelerated decomp, she knew for sure this wasn’t her brother-in-law.

  “He has a similar build and facial features to Fenton, but it’s not him.” Saying it aloud forced the truth to sink in, bringing the pain of losing Abby rushing up, and robbing Kait of the ability to breath. She’d failed. Not only herself, but her sister. Again.

  The space started to close in, and all she could hear was the throbbing of her own heart. She was instantly back at her parents’ house the day Abby had died. The police watching her when she refused to let go of Abby’s body. Her mother dragging Kait away as she nearly suffocated with grief. Like now, the air too thick to breathe. She couldn’t lose it in front of the others, but she was going to lose it. Of that, she was certain.

  With no idea where she’d go, she bolted from the room. There were too many people to see her fall apart out front. She’d find the back door. She charged down the hall, through a spotless kitchen, and down a few steps.

  Finally outside, she dropped onto a redwood bench under a tall pine, hung her head between her knees, and gulped air. Her whole body shook, and she could barely think, let alone stand again. She continued to pull in big, chest-heaving gulps of air, and when she could form a cohesive thought, she realized her work here was finished, sending her into another tailspin. She’d bombed. Failed. Was back to square one in the search for her sister’s killer.

  Or was she?

  Just because the man inside wasn’t Fenton didn’t mean Fenton wasn’t involved. He could have killed Congdon and sent the code from this location.

  A flicker of hope took purchase in her heart. Fenton could be the killer. He could really and truly be the man who’d left Congdon to rot in the heat.

  The thought didn’t diminish her hope, but it sickened her beyond belief. She hoped, no, prayed, that if he killed Congdon, she would find him and bring him to justice. Quickly, before he committed such a heinous act again and another person lost their life.

  SAM LOOKED AT the ugly popcorn ceiling and fought his desire to follow Kait. That was the last thing she needed right now. Him, too. He was working a crime scene, for crying out loud, and they were both professional law enforcement officers. He’d embarrass her more by making a big deal of her abrupt departure.

  “Seriously, that was lame.” Tim stood and stretched. “Never thought I’d see a mighty fed run at the sight of a body.”

  “Give it a rest, Tim.” Sam tried to keep his warning casual, but he was ready to deck the guy for his insensitivity.

  “I’m just saying, I thought agents were supposed to be the gods of law enforcement.” Tim rolled his eyes. “This one seems all too mortal.”

  Sam spun on him. “I said lay off.”

  Tim held up his hands. “What’s your problem, man? I’m just giving my opinion.”

  “Well, your opinion is way off the mark.” Sam poked Tim in his bony chest. “For your information, Agent Knight’s sister was murdered in front of her, and the killer’s never been found. She came in here thinking our vic might be that man. Now she knows he’s still free. So cut her some slack. You got it?”

  “Yeah. Geez.” Tim backed away.

  “Why don’t you get some fresh air, Tim?” Marcie suggested.

  With a glare for Sam, Tim stomped out. His sneakers covered in paper booties whispered over the wood floor as he slunk off.

  Sam shoved his hands into his pockets and felt Marcie staring up at him.

  “What?” he asked defensively.

  Her eyes narrowed. “That was a little over the top, don’t you think?”

  “No,” he snapped out, wondering what had gotten into him, losing his professional edge and defending Kait like that. “I don’t know . . . maybe.”

  “Would you like to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? I’m a good listener and there’s obviously something
bothering you or you wouldn’t have blown up at Tim.”

  Sam groaned. “I don’t suppose it’d help if I told you to focus on the job.”

  An impish smile spread across her face. “You know me better than that.”

  He shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know how Paul puts up with you.”

  “If there’s anyone doing any putting up with someone in my marriage, it’s me.” She sounded peeved, but Sam knew it was all talk. Her marriage to his friend and veteran officer Paul Jensen was strong, and an example of a shared life Sam often missed in the late hours of the night. A life he would never know again. A thought that made him sadder today than it had in some time. The last thing he needed when working a homicide. He shoved it into the back of his mind and looked at Marcie.

  She lifted the vic’s hand. “I need you to unlock the cuffs.”

  Thankful she’d moved on, Sam dug out his universal handcuff key and bent down, instantly wishing he hadn’t caught this case and wasn’t squatting next to this poor man whose life had been so ruthlessly extinguished. He clicked the lock open and moved to the other one.

  “Odd,” Marcie said. “No bruising under the cuffs. He didn’t struggle or fight at all.”

  “He trusted whoever cuffed him.” Sam stood up. “Or he was drugged. Can you—”

  “Rush the tox screen?” she finished for him, and he nodded. “I should have results for you by morning when I do the cut.”

  “What time?”

  “Eight too early for you?”

  Any time was too early to attend an autopsy, but it was part of the job. “I’ll be there. Hopefully by then, we’ll have more than a club card as ID.”

  “I’ll get the criminalist to photograph the deceased so we can get the body out of here.” Marcie got up and snapped off her gloves. “You track down that cute agent and see if she’s all right.”

  He thought to ignore Marcie and stay right here, but as long as Kait was on site, he’d like to get her input on the computers lining the wall. He found her in the kitchen, standing in front of an opened refrigerator and absently staring at the contents.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “He was here.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. “Fenton always meticulously organized his refrigerator like this. When Abby moved anything, even a fraction of an inch, he fixed it.”

  Sam glanced at the refrigerator’s neatly aligned contents. “Plenty of people with obsessive disorders live this way.”

  “I suppose,” she said, obviously not convinced. “But don’t you think it’s odd that this house is so neat, and yet the deceased is dressed like a real slob.”

  “Yeah, it’s odd, but that doesn’t mean Rhodes is our killer.”

  “He murdered another bot herder when he wanted to take over his bots. He could have done the same thing here.”

  “Seriously, are you speaking English?” he asked to lighten the mood, but her expression remained guarded. “Okay, so I guess it’s time for you to tell me about this bot stuff.” He mocked a shudder, and she rewarded him with a smile just as he’d hoped, but it was gone in a flash.

  She stared over his shoulder. “Cyber criminals use the Internet to gain access to unsuspecting people’s computers and take control of them via remote access.”

  “Unsuspecting people like who?”

  “Anyone who uses the Internet. You, your neighbor, a teenager, an office worker. Even your mother or grandmother. If a computer connects to the Internet, it’s vulnerable to attack and control. The criminals call the computers they control bots and the criminal is called a bot herder.”

  “Herder, huh,” Sam said, letting the idea roll around in his head. “Like ranchers in Texas with their cattle.”

  “Exactly. The rancher controls his cattle. The criminal controls his computers.” She paused and seemed to think before speaking. “Of course, this is a very simplified version of what happens.”

  “And we both know I need simple when it comes to this stuff.” He eased the refrigerator door closed, giving her time to step back. “I could really use your expertise on the computers. Would you mind?”

  She lingered for a few moments longer before striding toward the hallway. He understood her reluctance to let this go. Now that she knew the deceased wasn’t Rhodes, she was hoping he was the killer, and they’d catch him. Sam got it more than most people would. If the drunk who’d plowed into and killed his wife and unborn son wasn’t serving time, Sam would still be hunting the creep down just like Kait was hunting Rhodes. But that didn’t mean she was right about this case.

  Back in the office, Sam stood out of the way as Kait hurried past the victim and approached the three computers sitting on the scuffed wood floor.

  “So what is all this stuff?” he asked, hoping to get her mind on the equipment.

  She pointed at a black device with cables running from it. “This is a modem. It’s used to connect this house to the Internet service provider.” She gestured at a similar white one. “This is a wireless router, which allows you to access the Internet without plugging in your computer. And this,” she gave him a sweet little smile as she moved on, “you might recognize. It’s a telephone.”

  He laughed, glad to see her mood changed. “What would I do without you here?”

  His question earned him a raised eyebrow before she squatted next to the equipment. “Generic cases. He built these himself. Only one box running, the others are silent.”

  Sam took a step closer to see what she was talking about, but he really didn’t have a clue what he was looking for.

  “Seems odd that he left one powered up,” she said without looking up at him. “I’m guessing this computer is the source of our investigation. It’s almost as if he was hoping it would lead us here.”

  “So you think the killer wanted us to find the body?”

  She craned her neck to look behind the computer. “I don’t know. Maybe there’ll be a lead on the hard drives when we look at them.”

  “Can’t you just look at it now?”

  She shook her head. “Protocol requires us to create an image of the computer hard drive as we found it, which means waiting for an experienced forensic tech to arrive and take it back to the lab. Plus, if I wake up the machine, I may kick off some malicious code meant to destroy the information on the hard drive.”

  She angled her body, moving closer without touching the equipment. “Hard drive’s been pulled on this one. Wouldn’t be surprised if the same thing was true of the other one not running, but I can’t get close enough to see.” She sat back and stared at the equipment.

  “And that would happen why?” he asked.

  “As I mentioned, the code we intercepted suggests the victim is a bot herder. If so, these machines were most likely used to mine financial information from unsuspecting people. The killer probably stored the information on these drives and took off with the data.”

  “When you say data, you mean what exactly?”

  “Credit card and banking information. Passwords to online accounts, etc.” Her phone rang, and she snapped off her glove to dig it from her jacket pocket. “Great. My supervisor. Once I tell him it isn’t Fenton, I’ll be off the case.” She stood and lifted the phone to her ear. “Knight here.”

  Sam didn’t like hearing their collaboration might end, but maybe it was a good thing. He had a murder to solve and the very lovely Kaitlyn Knight distracted him.

  Even now. In the room of death. In the sweltering heat, his mind disgusted by the crime. She distracted him. Something he couldn’t afford. Not when he had a heart-stealing monster to hunt down.

  Chapter Six

  KAIT WANTED TO fling her phone across the room. But why? It wouldn’t change Sulyard’s decision. He wouldn’t allow her to work on this case with Sam. Period. End of discussion. She sho
uld just be grateful that Sulyard had at least agreed to take the computers in-house for analysis. Even if he had ordered her to leave the crime scene as soon as the tech arrived and secured the machines. That meant she somehow had to convince Sam to keep her in the loop on his investigation. Which, she knew from their interaction so far, was going to be a challenge.

  She turned and found him studying the floor by the victim. She joined him for a closer look, but she still couldn’t see anything of interest.

  “We’re taking the computers into evidence,” she said to get his attention. “We’ll have a tech here in thirty minutes.”

  He looked up. “Guess that means your agency has completed the official paperwork.”

  “Not yet.”

  “And if I refuse to let you take them without it?”

  “Then we’ll have a fight on our hands.” She smiled at him, making sure it was a megawatt-get-everything-she-wanted smile. “So avoid all the hassles and give in.”

  “Does anyone ever say no to you and get away with it?” His tone was tinged with amusement.

  She tapped a nail against her chin as if she was seriously contemplating his question. “I can’t think of anyone in recent months other than my supervisor.”

  “I hate to break your record, Kait, but you’re not walking out of here with the computers unless I receive a directive from my lieutenant.” His lips curled up, matching her smile with one of equal voltage.

  Her heart took a little tumble, but she ignored it. “Already taken care of. They should be speaking right about now.”

  A loud thump sounded from the hallway, pulling his focus from her.

  “Ouch,” Tim whined from the other side of the wall. “You smashed my fingers.”

  “Be a man for once, Tim, and suck it up,” Marcie said backing into the room while pulling a gurney.

  “I love working with her.” Sam grinned and stood. “But we don’t want to be in here when they move the body.”

  “Yeah,” the pipsqueak said from the doorway, a sneer forming on his long face. “If you couldn’t handle the scene before, the stench we release when we move the dude will send you running for sure.”