Unauthorized Access

by Andrew McAllister

  Eldon’s cigarette paused halfway to his mouth. He lowered it and looked at Tim.

  “What?” his father said. “You mean some computer hacker thing where you end up in jail?”

  “Well that’s what Rob did, right?”

  “You wouldn’t be so stupid.”

  The contemptuous look on his father’s face made Tim bristle. He had seen that look many times and loathed it.

  “Oh,” Tim said, “so when Rob does it, he should get a medal, but if I did it, it’d be a stupid thing to do.”

  Eldon gave him a dismissive wave of his good hand.

  “It’d be stupid no matter who did it.”

  Tim’s face grew hot. “But that’s not what you said. According to you, it’s only dumb if I’m involved.”

  “Whatever,” Eldon said.

  “I’m tired of you putting me down like that.”

  Now the irritation showed plainly on Eldon’s face as well.

  “Who cares,” he said. “It’s not like you’d have the guts to take on the bank like Rob did anyway.”

  Tim ground his teeth together. Rising from his seat, he hissed at his father.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He hurried out to the kitchen and grabbed his keys from the hook in the hallway. The door slammed behind him as he left.

  * * *

  Dysart put the carton of orange juice back in the refrigerator and returned to the glass he had just poured. He took a sip and considered adding a shot of something stronger. Normally such a thought wouldn’t occur to him so early on a Saturday morning but things were anything but normal. He had barely slept all night. His head felt like it was stuffed with pink insulation and soon he had to go to the bank to deal with one unsolvable crisis after another.

  His special cell phone rang, causing Dysart’s heart to pitter pat a little more quickly. He snatched the phone up and said, “Talk to me.”

  “I finally caught up with the cab driver,” Landry said.

  “And?”

  “He dropped our young man off last night out in Newton. Corner of Centre Street and Allerton Road, not far from Newton Center. There’s a bunch of houses nearby but the cabbie didn’t see which one he was headed for.”

  Lesley shuffled into the kitchen looking bleary-eyed. She raised one hand in mute greeting to her uncle

  “So no success yet?” Dysart said, keeping his words purposefully vague for Lesley’s benefit.

  “I was hoping you might know who he’d be going to see in that neighborhood.”

  “How should I know?”

  “Anyone you can ask?”

  Lesley put two halves of an English muffin in the toaster.

  “Absolutely,” Dysart said. “I’ll get back to you.”

  He hung up.

  “Who was that?” Lesley said.

  “No one you know. How are you feeling?”

  She shrugged and pulled a tub of margarine out of the refrigerator.

  “I still haven’t heard back from Rob,” Dysart said.

  “I’m not surprised. He’s making a habit of acting weird lately.”

  “He said one thing when he called last night that might be a clue as to what’s going on.”

  The English muffins popped up. Lesley started spreading. Dysart took her silence to mean she was still listening. He carried on.

  “Do you know anyone who lives handy to Newton Center, near a street named Allerton Road?”

  “Something about that name sounds familiar.” She put her plate on the table and went to get a glass from the cupboard. “Why do you want to know?”

  “That’s where he wanted me to take him.”

  Lesley paused with empty glass in hand and thought for a moment, then her brows knit and a rose of indignation formed on her face.

  “Son of a … I’ll kill him.”

  “What?” Dysart said.

  “It figures he’d run to her.”

  “Who?”

  “Kirsten Glanville. Rob went out with her when we broke up for a while in college. She lives right around there someplace, or at least she used to.”

  “Do you know the address, or her phone number?”

  “Who cares,” Lesley said.

  “I might. Rob sounded upset last night when he called, like he was in some kind of trouble. I’d like to at least talk to him, find out if he’s okay.”

  “Oh I’m sure he’s well looked after.”

  “So has she got an apartment or what?”

  Lesley sighed. “Yeah. Up on the third floor of this huge old house on Allerton.”

  Dysart kissed her on the forehead.

  “Enjoy your breakfast,” he said.

  He left her to glower at her untouched food and headed for the privacy of his home office to call Landry back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ROB PULLED INTO the parking lot of a Walgreens with the red Saturn he had borrowed from Kirsten. She needed it back in time to make it to the four-to-ten shift at the bookstore where she worked. Until then, Rob had wheels. He also had her cell phone, which he opened and dialed.

  Sheila answered. “I was beginning to think you’d never call,” she said.

  “Is Stan home?”

  “He had to go in to the bank. He’s anxious to talk to you, though. Made me promise I’d get you to call him on his cell if I heard from you.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that.”

  “What happened last night? Stan said you were in some kind of trouble but then he couldn’t find you.”

  “That’s why I called,” Rob said, “to tell him why I stood him up.”

  Rob gave her a quick and dirty version of the evening’s events. He heard her gasp a couple of times during the telling.

  “That’s awful,” Sheila said when he was done.

  “But it’s all over now and I’m okay.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “So I’ll give Stan a call.”

  “Wait,” Sheila said. “Before you go … just hang on a moment.”

  She put the receiver down. Rob heard muffled voices some distance from the phone. It sounded like two people having a disagreement. Someone picked up the phone a few seconds later and said, “Hello Rob.”

  It was Lesley.

  * * *

  Ray Landry knocked on the door to the third floor apartment. A young blond woman wearing a bathrobe answered. Her hair was wet and combed straight back as if she had recently taken a shower.

  “Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” Landry said. “Special Agent Labadie, FBI.”

  He showed her the ID.

  Landry smiled patiently while Kirsten studied the ID, comparing the picture with his altered appearance.

  “And what can I do for the FBI this morning?” Kirsten said.

  “We’re trying to locate Rob Donovan and we have information that he might have tried to contact you. Have you heard from him recently?”

  She hesitated. Landry’s instincts went to full alert.

  “As a matter of fact,” she said, “he was here last night.”

  “But he’s gone now?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Mind if I take a look inside, ma’am?”

  “Do you have a search warrant?”

  “No.”

  “Then I mind,” she said.

  Kirsten’s eyes widened when Landry pulled the nine mil from under his jacket.

  “I don’t need a warrant when I have reasonable cause to believe a fugitive felon might be inside. Now you can either stand aside or I will arrest you for obstruction of justice and then search the premises anyway.”

  Kirsten backed away and let him in. Landry did a quick sweep of the apartment. It didn’t take long to determine Rob wasn’t there. He returned to the entryway to find Kirsten where he had left her.

  “What time did he leave?” Landry asked.

  She bit her lower lip and hugged herself tightly as if against a chill wind.

  “Couple of hours ago,” she said
.

  She was lying. Landry wasn’t sure how he knew this but he was rarely wrong about such things.

  “Any idea where he went?”

  “Home, I guess.”

  “I didn’t ask for a guess. I want to know if he said anything about where he was going.”

  “Not really. Just that he had to go.”

  “You say he showed up here last night.”

  “That’s right,” she said.

  “He stayed the night?”

  Her jaw hardened at this one. “Yes.”

  Lucky Rob, thought Landry. This one was definitely a looker.

  “So where did he park his car for the night? In the driveway? On the street?” Landry knew perfectly well Rob’s vehicle was still parked at his apartment.

  “He didn’t have his car. He had to call a cab when he left this morning.”

  Oh well, it was worth a try. Landry stared at her and waited. Often the best interrogation technique was to say nothing, let the person ramble on of their own accord. Usually they would say too much just to fill up the awkward silence, give away information they really shouldn’t. As he hoped, Kirsten was the first to speak.

  “Rob hasn’t been here in years before last night,” she said. “How did you know to look for him here?”

  Landry raised one eyebrow. “Hasn’t been here in years, and then he just wanders in and spends the night?”

  Her eyes took on a defiant look.

  “We’re just old friends,” she said, “and you didn’t answer my question.”

  “You expect him back?”

  “No.”

  “Oh come on. Good friends like you? Of course he’s coming back.”

  She shrugged. “We didn’t talk about that.”

  “Not even ‘I’ll call you’?”

  “No.”

  “Some friend,” Landry said.

  * * *

  Rob forgot all about talking to Dysart when he heard Lesley’s voice on the phone.

  “I didn’t know you were there,” Rob said.

  “Meaning you weren’t calling for me,” Lesley said.

  Her voice had all the welcoming softness of rock salt.

  “Well … no.”

  “Aunt Sheila decided I should pick up the phone and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “You sure know how to make a guy feel good.”

  “I wouldn’t want to do that.”

  Rob’s stomach fluttered like a moth with half a wing missing.

  “I’m sorry I acted like such a jerk yesterday,” he said.

  Silence. He tried again. “I know this has been hard on you and … well, I understand how you feel.”

  More silence. The stomach flutters progressed into a swarm of full-fledged gut knots.

  “Look,” he said, “I’m trying here. The least you could do is talk to me.”

  “How’s Kirsten?” Lesley said.

  Rob felt his skin crawl. How on earth could she know he had been to see Kirsten?

  “What?” he said, feeling stupid as he did so.

  “I said … how’s Kirsten?”

  She managed to make the words sound like a threat.

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “You went to see her last night, didn’t you?”

  “I was kidnapped last night.”

  “Oh, is that what she does now? Held you against your will, did she? Probably made you do all sorts of nasty things. Not your fault, though.”

  “I’m serious. This guy pretended to be an FBI agent and when I went with him, he took me to this old garage and beat on me for a while. Wanted to know how to fix the computer problems at the bank.”

  “Get real, Rob. Uncle Stan told me you called him for a drive last night.”

  “Yeah, while I was trying to get away from that guy.”

  “That’s quite a story. Ranks right up there with the one about the people at the bank who are trying to frame you. You know, the ones you asked Tim about.”

  Rob’s breath caught in his throat.

  “You’ve been talking to Tim?”

  “He told me you were trying to blame someone at the bank for what you did.”

  “I didn’t do any—” He caught himself and stopped. She had already heard his protestations of innocence. More whining was unlikely to help.

  “That’s really messed up, Rob. It’s one thing to make a mistake but you shouldn’t try to get other people in trouble. I thought you were better than that.”

  Rob ground his teeth. Yelling at her wouldn’t accomplish anything. He tried to keep his voice even. It wasn’t easy.

  “What exactly did Tim tell you?”

  “About how the two of you went for a bike ride last night—you know, when you were supposed to be kidnapped—and how you tried to get him to suggest someone at the bank who might have a reason to frame you. He was quite upset about it.”

  I bet, Rob thought.

  “When were you talking with him?” Rob said.

  “He dropped by my place last night.”

  “Just like that, huh? Since when does Tim just drop by your place?”

  “Since his best friend went to jail. He knew I was upset and came over to check on me. It was a sweet thing to do.”

  “So he made you feel better,” Rob said.

  “A little, yeah.”

  “And how did he do that exactly?”

  “He … oh it’s none of your business.”

  “No, tell me. He put the moves on you or what?”

  “Don’t be crude,” she said. “Why would you even say a thing like that?”

  “Just a feeling I’ve had for a while now, about Tim, wanting you.”

  “You’re crazy. Next thing you’re going to tell me Tim is trying to frame you.”

  Rob didn’t answer. He still didn’t know what to think on that score.

  “You can’t be serious,” Lesley said. “You think that too?”

  “Not really. I mean …” He sighed. “I don’t know what to think.”

  “That’s sick, Rob. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

  Rob’s heart was pounding hard. He could feel her slipping away.

  “I know things look bad, I really do. But I need you to listen for a few minutes. Can you do that?”

  “Why, Rob? Everything was so perfect. Why did you have to go and mess everything up?”

  Rob closed his eyes and rubbed them.

  “Lesley, I need you. I’m in a load of trouble and …” He sighed. “I need you to listen.”

  He heard her sniff. “Go ahead.”

  Rob told her everything that had happened. It took him more than five minutes and she didn’t interrupt once. He kept it simple, providing facts instead of interpretations. She gasped when he described the beating he had received and the bruises he now sported. He explained how he ended up at Kirsten’s place and laid out his entire discussion with her. He made no attempt to beat around the bush on what he knew was a sensitive topic. Rob admitted that he didn’t know anything for certain about Tim and made it clear how reluctant he was to believe his friend could be involved. When the story was done, he simply waited for her reaction. He could almost feel her struggling to decide what she believed.

  “You really were kidnapped?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice was small. “That’s … awful.”

  What could he say? ‘Thank you’ didn’t seem appropriate. He waited for her to continue.

  “I thought we had our lives all figured out,” she said at last. “Now I don’t know what to think. Everything is just so …” She trailed off.

  This was no time to beg. Either she would believe in him on her own, or not at all. Rob kept his mouth shut.

  “Did you spend the night with Kirsten?” she asked.

  Rob sighed.

  “I slept on her couch. Alone. I had nowhere else to go.”

  Silence. Rob waited.

  “I’ve … got to go,” she said, an
d she was gone.

  Rob clicked off the cell phone, closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest. He had never felt so alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  RAY LANDRY BACKED the rented car into the back corner of the parking lot. He had a good view of the entire lot, as well as the entrance to Rob’s apartment building. Landry was now driving a white Ford Taurus instead of the Buick, so Rob wouldn’t spot him as easily. Rob’s Pathfinder still sat where Landry had visited it the night before.

  He got out and walked to the front lobby. The building’s security door yielded to Landry’s pocketful of tools. He walked upstairs like he owned the place and stopped at Rob’s door. As quietly as possible he picked the lock, pulled out his nine mil and burst inside. When there was no immediate threat he closed the door behind him and searched the apartment room by room. Nobody was home. Returning to the foyer, he listened at the door until he was satisfied the hallway outside the door was deserted, then slipped outside and returned to his car.

  Landry made himself comfortable, lit a cigarette and took a contented puff. He pulled his cell phone from an inside jacket pocket and dialed Dysart’s number.

  “What have you got?” Dysart asked.

  “Nothing yet. He was already gone from the old girlfriends place. Not to worry, though. I’m camped out at his apartment and I’ve got some people watching a few other spots. He’ll turn up soon enough.”

  “That’s not possible. ‘Soon enough’ went out the window days ago.”

  “Keep your shirt on,” Landry said. “I’ve played this game before. He’s sweating it out somewhere, wondering how soon it’ll be safe to go home. Trust me, he’ll get impatient before the weekend is out and I’ll reel him in.”

  “You better. If you don’t find him soon, you can kiss the rest of your fee goodbye.”

  That didn’t bother Landry in the least. He had no intention of collecting his fee. Rob would have to stay alive in order for that to happen.

  * * *

  Rob took a sip of the orange juice. He had felt obliged to accept it when Tim’s father offered.

  “Don’t know how long it’ll be before Tim is back,” Eldon said as he settled back into his chair. “He was in an awful huff when he went out of here a while ago. We had a bit of an argument, I guess you could say.”

  “Oh yeah?” Rob said.