Unless he had been the man who had paid Ian Vandermeer in cash, Jasi mused.
Entering Bits & Bytes, a popular Internet café chain, she ordered a Chai latte and slowly scanned the room. There were eight data terminals with dividers between them for privacy. The terminals formed an oval in the center of the café. Small tables with hammered silver chairs surrounded the oval and lined the windows.
Bits & Bytes was a refuge to computer junkies and teenagers. Jasi was not surprised to see both, although it was a school day.
Walking past the terminals, she glanced at a computer monitor and caught two teenaged boys trying to override the café's porn-blocker. A quick show of her badge sent them scurrying out of the place―red-faced and terrified.
A teenaged girl led her to a table in the back corner.
Dropping thankfully into a chair, Jasi sipped her tea and pushed her sleeve back to check her watch. She had a few minutes before her scheduled meeting with Cameron Prescott. Reviewing her data-com message system, she found two messages. One was from Ben. He was wondering how her side of the investigation was going. She made a note to check back with him after the meeting with the reporter―if the woman ever showed up.
The second message was from Matthew Divine.
A CS report had been uploaded to Jasi's data-com.
Opening the attachment, she read it thoroughly. A boot print from the ground around Washburn's cabin had been analyzed. A man's boot, size 11, deep treaded and marked. The CFBI database cross-checked the tread and identified it as a Thermogard Cruiser with steel toe. A popular and common boot used by a variety of laborers.
Damn!
"Am I interrupting you, Agent McLellan?"
Cameron Prescott hesitated at the edge of Jasi's table. She carried a cappuccino in her hand.
"No, not at all."
Jasi indicated the chair across from her. "Just a reminder though, everything we talk about here is off the record. Agreed?"
The reporter nodded, and there was an awkward silence as they sized each other up.
"So, what can you tell me about Premier Allan Baker?"
The reporter snorted. "Other than he's a womanizing, arrogant asshole?"
Jasi couldn't hold back the grin that spread across her face. She immediately sensed that she and Cameron Prescott were about to become the best of friends.
During the next twenty minutes, Jasi listened while Cameron told her how she had begged her boss for the opportunity to research Allan Baker, and had begrudgingly been given a transfer to Kelowna.
"There's more to Allan Baker than simply being the illegitimate son of Dr. Washburn." Cameron smiled as if she had eaten something rotten. "Dr. Washburn lived in Victoria during his affair with Sarah Baker. A couple of years later, he requested a transfer to Kelowna General."
"Probably so he could shirk his responsibility," Jasi muttered.
The reporter eagerly leaned forward, her hazel eyes full of excitement.
"Ten days ago I got hold of Allan Baker's school records. Did you know that his mother put him into Child Protective Services when he was eight?"
Jasi shook her head slowly, an alarm ringing in her brain. Victoria. CPS. Foster care…
"The school he was attending had to be notified," Cameron continued. "Sarah Baker was sent to a rehab program for drug addiction. Allan was placed in a temporary foster home. Two months later his mother got him back."
"Do you know where he was placed when he was in foster care?"
"Records show he lived with a Charlotte and Ernest Foreman."
Bingo!
Jasi felt a surge of excitement race through her body.
Baker was connected to the Victoria fire.
Cameron took a long gulp from her cup, then looked at Jasi. "I traveled to Victoria last week to talk to them. I found out the husband died back in 2001. Guess what else I discovered, Agent McLellan?"
"That Charlotte Foreman died in a suspicious fire three weeks ago."
Jasi's thoughts raced.
If the Foreman woman had fostered Allan Baker, then Washburn must have known about her. He had to have known that his son was dumped into the system. And the bastard hadn't even had the heart to take the boy in.
"Have you printed any of this yet?"
"No," the reporter admitted, shaking her head.
"Can you keep this quiet, buy me some time?"
Cameron grinned. "As long as you give me the exclusive."
Jasi would give her the Premier's head on a platter. What a story that would make on the front page! Cameron Prescott was holding onto the story that could make her career. Allan Baker wouldn't know what hit him!
The only thing Jasi and her team had to do now was place Baker at either one of the crime scenes. It was purely a matter of time before she would have enough evidence to charge him.
"You'll get your exclusive."
Baker had now moved into the category of prime suspect. He could have killed his foster mother for a million reasons. And it was more than possible that he had killed his father to stop a pre-election scandal that could end his political career.
"Agent McLellan, can I ask you a personal question?"
Jasi shrugged. "Ask away…as long as it doesn't end up in the newspaper."
"What is it like to work for the CFBI? I mean, you're always on the move, hunting down criminals and putting your life on the line."
Jasi was unsure of how to reply. How could she explain the rush she experienced when she brought down a murderer? Or the look in a mother's eyes when told that the person responsible for her child's death had been caught?
"Most of the time it's a blessing," she admitted. "It's rewarding to find the answers, solve the puzzle. But, I'll admit―it's not always easy."
Jasi had been reading fires since she was a child. And then Divine had found her and brought her into the PSI division where she had floundered with her gift, uncomprehending its value. Matthew Divine had given her a safe place to practice and hone her skills, a place where she was accepted. A home.
Of course, she couldn't reveal all this to the woman sitting across from her. Studying Cameron, Jasi had the distinct impression that the reporter suspected that she was not simply a CFBI agent. She wondered if the reporter had heard anything about the PSI division.
Divine Ops wouldn't remain a secret forever.
"The worst thing about my job is that it doesn't leave much time for a normal life," Jasi admitted uncomfortably.
"Yeah, I hear ya," Cameron chuckled.
"Whatever normal is."
The reporter eyed her curiously. "What about family? Friends?"
Jasi laughed. "Man, I can sure tell you're in the right profession."
"Yup. My brother used to tell me all I did was ask questions. I irritated the hell out of him."
Cameron's eyes grew distant.
Jasi cleared her throat, curious why the reporter's mood had shifted. "I have a brother too. Brady. He's younger than me and a bit of a rebel."
"And your parents?"
Jasi felt a shiver trail up her spine. "Our mother was killed on Brady's birthday during a home robbery. I was eight."
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, so am I," Jasi said softly. "My mother was a wonderful person."
She peered beneath her lashes at the woman across from her. Why on earth am I confiding in Cameron Prescott?
There was a moment of awkward silence before Cameron murmured, "My brother died when I was a kid. It took me years to feel like a whole person again."
Jasi nodded.
Death could do that to a person. It could leave you feeling like a dark void had replaced your once-beating heart. Wondering if the emptiness would ever go away. Always wanting the impossible.
Banishing the dark thoughts from her mind, she said, "My father is still alive. He's retired. We don't really get along. Must be the Gemini-Capricorn thing. What about your folks?"
"I never knew my birth parents," Cameron murmured softly. "
My brother and I were abandoned."
"That's awful!"
Jasi couldn't understand how anyone could walk away from his or her own flesh and blood.
"Did you ever search for them?"
There was a wistful expression in the reporter's eyes.
"No. After my brother died, I thought I might go looking for them but then I reminded myself that our parents had left us in a Dumpster―like trash."
"Someone found you in a Dumpster?"
"Most people think my low voice is sexy, husky. It's actually that way because my esophagus was damaged from exposure and infection."
Jasi was mortified. "And your parents?"
Cameron took a long sip of her cappuccino before answering. "The records are sealed―airtight. Our birth parents made sure we couldn't find them."
"How'd your brother die?"
"He drowned. Just before our twelfth birthday."
Jasi's curiosity was piqued. "You were twins?"
"Yeah. Fraternal twins, not identical. They separated us when we were about nine. But I was the lucky one. The Prescott's adopted me after I turned ten."
Cameron tugged at her sleeve in an effort to cover two small scars on her right arm. When she caught Jasi watching her, she shrugged. "Childhood injury."
An awkward silence announced the end of their meeting, but Jasi was reluctant to leave. Cameron had asked her about friendship. If Jasi had been honest, she would have told her that friends were very hard to keep in her line of business.
The reporter rose quickly. "Thanks for meeting me, Agent McLellan. I look forward to hearing from you. Especially if the Premier is involved."
"You'll be the first to know," Jasi promised, following Cameron to the street.
Overhead, dark clouds had taken the sun hostage. The wind was gathering and passers-by glanced uneasily at the ominous sky. A blast of air whipped down the street, scattering papers against the buildings.
Time to get back before the storm hit.
"Do you need a ride anywhere?" Cameron asked.
"No thanks. The hotel isn't far and I want to clear my head. Uh, Cameron…thanks for the info on Baker."
"Any time, Agent McLellan."
The reporter climbed into a metallic blue Daytona and gunned the engine.
On impulse, Jasi leaned into the passenger window.
"Cut the Agent McLellan crap and call me Jasi. After all, we're going to be working together on this Baker lead."
"Sure thing, Jasi."
Cameron Prescott waved goodbye, then slipped into the evening traffic and sped away in a cloud of dust.
Jasi released a weary sigh.
Didn't the woman know there were laws against speeding?
Jasi was across the street from the Prestige Inn when the storm clouds ripped open. The rain was torrential and bone-chilling. Scrambling for the glass door of the hotel, she drew a sigh of relief as the automated system kicked in. The door opened so slowly that if she had been running any faster, she would have slammed right into it.
In the elevator, she resisted the urge to make a face at a sales executive who peered down her nose in obvious disapproval of the soaked clothes and waterlogged hair. Instead, Jasi kept replaying her conversation with Cameron.
Baker's connection with Charlotte Foreman was impossible to ignore. But why would he have killed her? Getting rid of his drunken, incompetent father made perfect sense, but a past foster mother…and an innocent child?
Jasi thought about Cameron. Having a reporter along for the ride could make the investigation easier. Often they could get inside―where the CFBI couldn't go without search warrants and formal charges. Cameron had offered her services as a reporter but Jasi suspected that an offer of friendship had also been made. She somehow sensed that Cameron was in need of a friend…just as much as she was.
She sighed heavily, thinking of the few friends she had.
There was Natassia and Ben, of course. But other than that…
There was something very likeable about Cameron Prescott. Maybe her honesty―something rare in a reporter.
Whatever it was, Jasi liked her. And that led to two problems.
Making friends was not her forte.
And keeping them was next to impossible.
11
After a quick lunch, Natassia flopped on the bed and compared notes with Ben on Washburn, Gibney and Baker. She picked up the crime scene reports, eyeing them for a clue―a direction.
Maybe she had missed something.
"Do you think it's possible Martin Gibney killed Washburn so that Baker wouldn't have to get his hands dirty?"
"Anything's possible," Ben shrugged. "Gibney wanted Washburn out of that hospital as much as the rest of the board members. Yet he believed he owed it to Baker to tell him first."
"Maybe Baker's blackmailing Gibney."
Natassia had been playing with the idea ever since Ben had told her that Gibney had called Baker to warn the Premier that his father was being fired.
"Hmmm, blackmail," Ben said thoughtfully. "Baker was donating money to the hospital. He could have threatened to withdraw his financial support if Gibney didn't get rid of his father."
"I'll check the hospital financial statements and compare them to Baker's. If he paid Gibney for his services, there might be a corresponding donation to the hospital―or to Gibney personally."
Ben drummed his fingers on the table. "When I shook Gibney's hand I could see death all around him."
"Well, he is a doctor. I'm sure he's seen lots of death."
"I know," Ben sighed. "But I sensed he was holding back something."
Natassia wondered what Gibney could be hiding.
She flicked a glance in Ben's direction, admiring his persistence. Smiling to herself, Natassia admitted there wasn't much about Benjamin Roberts that she didn't admire.
"So this Alyssa Bines," he said pensively. "Is she a reliable witness? You think she's telling the truth about Baker and Lydia Gibney?"
"Yeah. Bines might be a bit of a gossip but she's attended every major campaign event in the past two months. She's seen them together more than once."
Ben tapped his data-com. "And she's positive she heard them fighting?"
"Uh-huh. Baker left his room shortly after Lydia had gone. None of the people on my list recall seeing him until close to the time the party ended. A couple of people said they thought they saw him between midnight and two, but nothing definite."
"So the Premier could have had time to slip out of the hotel, murder his father and get back in time to say goodbye to his guests."
She shook her head. "Baker couldn't have vanished into thin air. How could he have left the hotel? The staff never saw him leave―or return."
"Maybe a different pair of eyes caught him leaving."
Activating the huge vid-wall that lined one side of the executive suite, Ben pulled up the photo of the Paloma Springs lobby. Then he zoomed in on the half-hidden devices that monitored the hotel.
"Security cameras," Natassia mumbled ruefully. "Of course. I should have thought of that."
She mentally kicked herself. Hotel security had camera surveillance set up everywhere. If Baker had escaped through a back door then security would have it on disk.
"I'll get a warrant for those disks," Ben told her.
She listened while he connected with Divine and updated him on Baker. Divine assured them that getting a warrant for the security disks would not be a problem.
When Ben ended the transmission, Natassia jumped off the bed and plugged her data-com into the Prestige Inn's secure line.
"So what's Baker's motive," she asked. "Revenge for his father's abandonment?"
Ben examined the doctor's picture. "I think Baker was protecting his candidacy for Prime Minister. He was embarrassed by his father, couldn't stand the negative publicity. People would have looked at Baker twice if his father had been fired from the hospital."
"Baker needed to get him out of the way. Permanently."
/> Ben nodded. "So he killed him. He certainly fits the profile. His father abandoned him. He had a difficult childhood. Allan Baker is driven to succeed and be recognized, and he won't let anything or anyone stand in his way."
"But why would Baker go after the Foreman woman and Samantha Davis? It doesn't make sense."
She saw Ben shake his head. Then he stretched out on the bed, tired and frustrated.
"A Gemini lighter was found at both scenes, Natassia. The evidence doesn't lie. Foreman and Washburn were murdered by the same person."
"I still don't see a connection."
"There is a connection," Jasi confirmed, entering the room. "Allan Baker went to live with Charlotte Foreman when he was a boy. He stayed with her for about six weeks."
"Okay," Ben said. "But I still don't understand why Baker would kill Charlotte Foreman and Samantha Davis."
A long, tired groan escaped from Natassia's lips. She couldn't understand Baker's motive in murdering the Foreman woman either. It didn't make any sense. What did Baker have against her? Foreman had been a foster parent for more than twenty years.
"Time to take a trip to Victoria?" she asked Jasi.
Jasi flopped onto the bed beside Ben. "Yup."
Natassia turned to Ben and frowned. "What about the car rentals? We can't use them in Victoria."
"I'll get both cars delivered once you get back."
Passing Jasi a pop, Natassia asked, "Think we'll get much in Victoria?"
"There's not much left of the crime scene but I should pick up something. Too bad there's no body for you, Natassia."
Natassia knew that Charlotte Forman had been buried five days after her death. That had been almost a month ago. The only way Natassia would get a reading from her was if they exhumed the body. And that could take weeks to get authorization.
"I guess I'll live," she said, smiling at her own joke.
"I'll make the arrangements," Jasi told her. "You and I'll check out Victoria while Ben has a little talk with the Premier."
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