by Lisa Harris
So she had been right. She wasn’t the only one with secrets.
Kelli, the squad’s tech guru Grace had met earlier, stepped into the room, putting an end to their conversation.
“I have some information you’re going to want to hear.” She stopped next to them.
Nate walked into the room with a bag of takeout and joined them.
“You’re just in time,” Kelli said. “I finally tracked down Stephen’s sister. Her name’s Jenny Wright, and she lives in Garland.”
“Do you have her address?” Paige asked.
“I texted it to both of you,” Kelli said. “I just went through the video Stephen’s workplace sent over.”
“And?” Paige said.
Kelli quickly pulled up some video footage on the computer at the other end of the desk. “I’ll need to see if the two of you can identify him, but a man matching the description of the driver from the bank was on it, in the lobby and outside Stephen’s office. And get this. The time stamp matches the time you were stuck in the elevator.”
“That’s definitely him,” Nate said.
Paige frowned. “He would have needed help, but it looks as if the computer system of the elevator was hacked.”
Grace set down her sandwich. “Wait a minute . . . your elevator was hacked?”
“Long story short,” Nate said, “apparently he wanted to get those bugs back before we showed up and found them, so he tried to slow us down.”
“But Stephen had already found them,” Paige said.
“It makes sense,” Kelli said. “I delivered the bugs you brought me to one of our analysts, so we should know more soon, but I do know that some of them have microcircuit encoders that both compress and record information.”
“They couldn’t afford for us to get that information,” Nate said.
“In the meantime, we need to go see Stephen’s sister.”
Grace avoided Nate’s gaze. “Let me go with you to talk with her. I know what it’s like to receive news that someone you love is gone. It’s not going to be an easy call, but we need her. She might have information about who the Colonel is.”
“I don’t think that would be—”
“I know if it was me, I’d rather have someone who knew him asking me questions, rather than the authorities,” Grace said, jumping in before Nate could state his list of reasons she shouldn’t go. “You need her to talk, but she needs someone who understands. Besides that, I know it isn’t uncommon for officers to take family, friends, or clergy with them to make a death notification. I’ve had to do it in the past for one of my clients. Let me help. Please.”
“She’s pretty persuasive,” Paige said, looking at Nate.
Nate started pulling out the sandwiches and waffle fries. “I’m starting to remember just how persuasive she can be.”
“Funny, guys.” Grace frowned. “I’m sitting right here.”
“Fine,” Nate said. “The two of you can make the call—”
“I’m going to need you to do it,” Paige said, digging into the bag of food. “I spoke with Sarge a couple minutes ago. He wants someone to follow up with the medical examiner.”
Grace tried to read Nate’s expression but came up blank. She could tell he wasn’t happy with the situation.
“Fine.” He popped a fry into his mouth. “You go see what the ME has for us, and Gracie and I will go as soon as we finish lunch.”
An hour later they were walking up to the front door of Stephen’s sister’s house, and Grace still wasn’t sure how he felt. He’d been quiet for most of the ride—distant, really—making her question her request to come along. It was clear he’d have preferred she stay back at the precinct. But it was a little too late for that now. And unfortunately, what Paige had told her had left her with more questions than answers about him. She wished she felt comfortable enough to bring up the subject of the bombing with him, but she didn’t. The only thing she did know for sure was that what happened that day had clearly changed him. There was definitely that overprotective vein he’d always had, but it was far more than that. She could sense he was on edge, an underlying result of the PTSD he’d probably yet to deal with.
“Thanks for letting me come,” she said as they stopped in front of the red door. “I know you probably don’t understand, but I just . . . I need to help. I’ll stay in the background, I promise, if you need me to.”
“I’ll probably be glad in the end you were here with me,” he said, knocking firmly on the door. “I’ve always hated these calls. If you’d like to be the one to tell her about her brother, feel free.”
“Okay.”
An awkward silence followed until a woman much older than Grace expected opened the door.
“Jenny Wright?” Grace asked.
“Yes?”
“Jenny . . . my name is Grace Callahan and this is Detective Nate Quinn. I’m a friend of your brother Stephen.”
“Stephen?”
“Would you mind if we come in for a moment?”
She hesitated before nodding and letting them step in behind her into the living room with a blue flowered couch, matching armchair, and sheer blue curtains.
She motioned them onto the couch, then sat down on the armchair across from them. “I’m sorry for the mess. I worked overtime yesterday and haven’t gotten much done this morning.”
“No worries,” Grace said, wishing now Nate hadn’t left the informing up to her.
“Something’s happened to him, hasn’t it?” Jenny asked.
Grace tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’m truly sorry to have to tell you this, but your brother was murdered last night.”
Jenny pressed her hand against her mouth as she fought to process the information she’d just been given. “He’s dead?”
“We’re so sorry for your loss.”
Jenny shook her head. “I . . . I don’t even know what to say. What happened?”
“We’re still trying to put everything together,” Nate said, “but it appears he was working for the wrong people and stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have.”
Jenny grabbed a tissue from the side table next to her and blew her nose. “I . . . I knew something like this was going to happen.”
“What do you mean, Ms. Wright?” Nate asked.
“It’s Jenny. Please. And . . . I don’t know. Nothing specific,” she said. “He told me a few months ago that he’d started working on some top-secret project. Something he couldn’t talk about. He told me that lame joke of how he’d have to kill me if he told me what he was really doing. And yet, I knew by the tone of his voice that there was a nugget of truth there. And apparently I was right.”
“I’m truly sorry, ma’am,” Nate said.
The woman turned to Grace, her eyes now brimming with tears. “You said you knew him?”
Grace nodded. “He was under a lot of stress with his job. I worked with him to help manage his anxiety.”
“You were his psychologist?”
“Yes.”
“I called your office not too long ago. He’d given me your card. Told me how much you’d helped him. He thought I could use a professional to talk to, but in the end, I backed out.”
“That was how we were able to track you down.”
“I’m his only family left. Our parents were older when they had him. Seventeen years after having me, so you can imagine they were quite surprised.”
“I know this is difficult, but would you mind if we asked a few questions?” Nate asked.
“I’ll help in any way I can. Even though I’m a lot older than he was, we were fairly close. Of course, it’s not always been easy to maintain a relationship. Mainly because he either lived too far away, or because he spent most of his time working. And as you might expect, Stephen was never much of a communicator.”
“When’s the last time you spoke with him?” Grace asked.
“A week or so ago. He called me. We saw each other every couple of months. It’s been nice to
have him nearby. He comes by every once in a while and we have dinner.” Jenny pressed the back of her hand against her mouth again. “I just can’t believe he’s gone.”
Nate handed her another tissue. “What can you tell me about him?”
“Stephen was pretty complex. On one hand, he was your typical computer geek. He was really into superhero movies and comic books. Always went to those comic con festivals in costume, and he had all of these crazy ideas of saving the world in real life as well.”
“And on the other hand?” Gracie asked.
“He had this really sweet, unexpected side. He spent time volunteering his technical skills with a local after-school program.” Jenny grabbed a lone throw pillow from the floor next to her and pulled it against her chest. “Can you tell me how he died?”
“He was . . .” Grace hesitated. Why did saying things out loud always make it seem more real? “He was shot early this morning.”
“And we’re trying to find out who might have done it,” Nate said. “Do you know of any enemies he might have had?”
“Stephen might not have had a lot of friends, but enemies? No. I just can’t see that. I mean, he spent his days glued to a computer screen. He didn’t go out enough to make enemies.”
“Do you remember him talking about someone who went by the name ‘the Colonel’?” Nate asked. “Maybe back when he was in college?”
“The Colonel. Now that sounds vaguely familiar. I remember he had a few friends. They were all geniuses on the computer. There was an old buddy he had that ended up in the army. I can’t remember what his real name was, and I’m sure he wasn’t really a colonel, but they all had nicknames.”
“Was Stephen still in contact with any of his old friends?” Nate asked.
“I couldn’t tell you that. He graduated so long ago. I do remember that he was a part of some computer group that called themselves The Shadow Masters. He thought it was cool. Honestly, I thought it was silly, though now . . .”
“Do you know any of their real names?”
“I’m not sure, but I could probably find out.” She glanced toward the adjoining room. “This was the house we grew up in, and he’s still got a lot of junk here. I keep telling myself I’ll get rid of it one of these days. Now I’m glad I didn’t.” She drew in a deep breath. “Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t some of his yearbooks here. If you’ll just give me a minute, I’ll look.”
Jenny stepped back into the room a few moments later and set a short stack of yearbooks on the table. “I was right, though I haven’t looked at them in years.”
“I’m sure this will help,” Grace said.
“Now, I’m not sure exactly what you’re looking for, but I might be able to find a photo of the three of them together.” She picked up one of the books, then opened it to the index before flipping through the pages. “Here they are. My brother, Carl Macbain, and Eddie Sumter. I think I remember Stephen telling me Eddie died a few months ago in a car crash. As for Carl Macbain . . . I honestly have no idea where he might be now.”
“Do you remember if either of them went by the Colonel?” Grace asked.
Jenny studied the photo, then tapped her finger on one of them. “Carl. I’m sure of it. He was engaged to . . . what was her name. Madeline Claire, I think. And I believe her maiden name was Waybright. I remember she had such a pretty name, though she went by Maddie. They married after graduation and settled in the area. Of course, that was a long time ago. He joined the military, so he could be anywhere by now.”
“Do you know anything else about Carl?” Grace asked while Nate texted a message on his phone.
“No. I’m sorry.”
“We probably should go now.” Nate stood up and dropped his phone into his pocket. “But we appreciate your help.”
“Of course.”
“Can I call someone for you before we go?” Grace asked. “I hate to leave you alone.”
“Thank you, but I’ll be okay. At least for the moment. I think it’s going to take a while for this to sink in.”
Nate handed her his business card. “If you need anything, or think of anything else that might help, please give me a call.”
Jenny nodded. “Of course.”
Grace stepped back out into the Texas sunshine with Nate and they headed toward his car. “Thank you for letting me come. I know you didn’t want me to.”
“It’s not that. It’s just . . . I’ll just say that you definitely knew how to handle that.” Something in his voice softened. “Far better than I do. This has always been the most difficult part of my job. Informing a family that their loved one is dead.”
“Something like that is never easy.”
Nate’s phone dinged and he pulled it out. “That was fast. Kelli is still looking for Carl Macbain—a preliminary search came up with nothing—but she did find his wife. She works at a diner not too far from the precinct.”
“I don’t mind coming with you.”
“Not this time,” he said, heading toward the car. “Sergeant Addison said he has a few more questions for you, then he’ll make sure you get home. He’s also promised a detail for your house until we know for sure you’re safe.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then stopped when she caught his expression. The tone of his voice was all business, as if he were making a conscious play to push her away. But wasn’t that the way it should be? Just because they’d once been friends didn’t mean he owed her anything in this situation. After today she’d be out of his life again.
14
Nate breathed in the scent of sizzling burgers as he stepped into the twenty-four-hour diner behind Paige. Even at half past three, the place was crowded with customers.
“Excuse me.” He approached the counter and showed the hostess with a tired smile his badge. “We need to speak to one of the employees here, Madeline Macbain.”
The woman set her pile of menus on the counter. “We’ve got a Maddie who works here, but her last name is Waybright.”
“We’ll need to speak with her.” Nate scanned the room, wishing they’d found a photo of the woman.
The hostess tapped a stack of menus against her hand. “The boss isn’t going to like it. The place is crazy busy right now.”
“It’s important we speak to her,” Paige said.
The hostess let out a sharp huff, then took off across the diner. So much for service with a friendly smile.
A minute later, she returned with a woman in her early thirties, with dark hair and brown eyes, looking as if she’d already worked a double shift.
“Detectives Quinn and Morgan,” Paige said. “We’re looking for Madeline Macbain.”
“That’s me . . . but it’s Waybright now,” she said, hesitating. “I legally changed my name back after a divorce, but please don’t tell me there’s a problem with my case.”
Nate shook his head. “We’re not here about your case, we just need to ask you a few questions about your ex-husband.”
“It’s important,” Paige said. “We just need a minute or two of your time.”
Maddie glanced behind her toward the bustling diner. “In case you didn’t notice, time is something I don’t exactly have right now. Things are a bit busy, and I can’t afford to lose this job. It’s the only thing keeping food on the table for me and my daughter.”
“We don’t want to be difficult,” Nate said, “but we’d rather you didn’t have to come down to the station to do this. It’s important—”
“So this isn’t a request.” She frowned, then turned to one of her coworkers. “Get Nancy to cover for me for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”
They followed her to an empty table in the back corner of the room and slid into a seat across from her.
“What has Carl done this time?” She leaned her elbows against the table. “Is he in trouble with the law or something?”
“No. We just want to talk to him in connection to an investigation. He’s a person of interest, not a suspect
.” Nate rested his palms against the table. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
“I don’t know. I’ve barely spoken to him in almost a year. Not since I gained full custody of our daughter. And to be honest, I really have no desire to see him again. He comes to see Danielle every couple months, but besides phone calls, that’s it.”
“We need to find him, and right now you’re the only lead we have.”
“Good luck with that. Carl doesn’t exactly want to be found. He lives on some isolated piece of property east of here—somewhere near the Louisiana border, I think—and he purposely stays off the grid, so I’m not surprised you couldn’t find him.”
“Do you know how we can track him down?”
“All I have is a phone number, but he’d kill me if he finds out I gave out his personal information, especially to the police.” She hesitated. “I don’t mean that literally, Carl’s never been violent, but you know what I mean. It’s a private number our daughter uses to call him. Most of the time his phone isn’t on, and I think he only has a phone so he can talk with Danielle. I can’t guarantee he’ll answer a random number.”
“How old’s your daughter?”
“She’s seven. And the one good thing that came out of my marriage. Sorry.” Maddie glanced at her watch. “My mom is supposed to pick Danielle up in a few minutes, but she’s always running late. Seems to be the theme of my life now. That was the problem in our marriage, to be honest. Carl never had time to deal with life. Like carpool, doctor appointments, homework, making sure she ate healthy.”
Nate hated that they’d dragged up a raw point in her life. But they needed to find Carl. “You’ve never been to his place?”
“No. Like I said, I know it’s east of here on some isolated property, but that’s it.”
“There is one more question we need to ask,” Paige said. “Do you remember an old friend of his, Stephen Shaw?”
“Shaw . . . yeah. I recognize the name. I know they were friends back in college, and I met him a few times. They were both conspiracy believers. Carl was always talking about things like Roswell, the JFK assassination, and Elvis is still alive. You can imagine what it was like when the two of them got together. They both had their own theories on everything. I never took either of them seriously. I think it’s part of the reason Carl now lives off the grid. He’s preparing for the end of the world.”