by Dee Davis
Eric shook his head. “Can’t say for sure, of course, but my instinct still says no. This thing is starting to smell like a setup.”
“What’d Roswell say?” Finally satisfied with the amount of chemicals in his coffee, he took a slurping sip.
“That they had their man in Brighton, and nothing Pollock said had changed the fact.”
“He’s one cocky son of a bitch, you gotta give him that, but I tend to think you’re right about Brighton. Unfortunately, the poor bastard doesn’t stand a chance if they find him.”
“And they will.”
Tony shrugged philosophically. “At least it’s out of our hands. Maybe if he’s lucky he’ll find something out there to clear his name, and if he doesn’t there’s always the courts.”
“Oh yeah, there’s a comfort. The laws these days are more about protecting the guilty than the innocent. I know I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be in Brighton’s place.”
Tony drained the last of his coffee. “You know what your problem is, Eric. You care too damn much. You can’t let it get personal. Look what happened to Cavanaugh.”
“Who’s to say she isn’t right?”
“Hey, D’Angelo,” another detective called from across the office, his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone. “Looks like I might have a lead on your man.”
The hairs on Eric’s arms prickled to attention. “John Brighton?”
“Yeah. Maybe. I’m talking to dispatch and they just got a call from a guy who says he saw him about an hour ago.”
“Where?” He was standing up now, already reaching for his jacket.
The detective consulted the person on the other end of the phone, then looked up. “Dispatcher says the guy works at D.E.S.”
Tony was grabbing his coat, too. “Looks like Brighton may have found his answers.”
“Or he’s walking into a trap.”
Miller’s files were like a puzzle, and putting the pieces together was taking longer than he liked, but the picture that was emerging was far more disturbing. So far he’d uncovered at least fifteen unauthorized entries into Guardian clients’ files. Each entry cross-referenced with the appropriate log index.
Miller had been exceedingly thorough.
From the look of things, Roswell was right. Someone had been using the Guardian system to access and extract sensitive information from their clients.
The big question was, who?
“Are you finished yet? We’ve been here almost half an hour.” Katie had been alternately hanging over his shoulder and watching the door, her face growing more concerned with every passing minute.
“I’m working on it. This is the last file.”
He clicked on the icon, and waited while the computer pulled up the file. At first, the columns of numbers meant nothing. He frowned, frustrated, and switched over to an earlier file. Looking for a link between the two.
“John, we’ve got to hurry.”
“I know. Just one more minute.” He looked at the last file again, smiling this time as his beleaguered mind finally registered what he was looking at. The file linked each of the random IP addresses assigned to the illegal entries with another log that listed the actual machine in use. He clicked on the link to the secondary log, and his stomach sank.
He clicked again on another entry, with the same result. Bile rose in his throat, the reality of what he was reading almost more than he could bear. It couldn’t be true, but Miller’s evidence was methodically relentless, and John realized there was no escaping the truth.
His brother was using Guardian computer systems to steal information from the company’s clients.
“John?” Katie’s voice seemed to come from far away, a rhythmic whooshing sound obstructing his hearing. He felt her shake his arm, and struggled back from the blackness of his thoughts, the sounds fading as his blood pressure resumed normal levels.
“I’m here.” He tried to focus on the sound of her voice, but disbelief was warring with horror, the combined emotional impact leaving him numb, incapable of contemplating the reality of the situation. Even without his handicaps, he’d have been blown away. As it was, he wasn’t certain his mind was capable of processing the information, let alone accepting it.
Danny. Holy Mother of God—Danny.
Katie was kneeling beside him now, her face full of concern. “John, tell me. What is it? What did you find?”
He drew in a breath, fighting for clarity. This wasn’t the time for an emotional breakdown. “Roswell was dead-on. Miller documented everything. Someone has been stealing secrets.” He reached for her hands, needing to feel the warmth of human contact, his mind still rebelling against the truth.
Katie’s gaze met his, the anxiety reflected there mirroring his own. “Does Miller identify the thief?”
He nodded, his heart threatening to explode from his chest. “It’s Danny.”
“No. There’s got to be some kind of mistake.” Her hands tightened on his, anxiety changing to shock.
He shook his head, wishing there was some way to make it a mistake. But Miller had been too thorough. There was no escaping the truth. Danny had betrayed him. “It’s all here. He’s been doing it for years.”
“Does Miller mention the Koreans?”
“No. But it fits, doesn’t it. I mean, Danny had to be selling the information to someone. Why not the Koreans?”
“You realize what else this means, John. It could have been Danny who—”
“No.” The word came out more explosively than he’d intended, but he wasn’t going to allow the thought to be put into words, as if by saying them they became true. “He wouldn’t do that, Katie. He wouldn’t.”
Her voice was gentle. “John, you can’t know that.”
“I have to hold on to something or this is going to eat me alive. Can’t you see that?”
She reached out to touch his face, her eyes filled with regret. “We’ll work this out, John. I promise. But not now. There isn’t time. What we have to do now is get this information to Roswell. It’s our best chance of getting you cleared, and right now that’s got to be our priority. All right?”
He nodded mutely, forcing himself to the here and now.
She searched his eyes, and evidently satisfied with what she saw, stood up. “Can we take any of the file with us?”
“No.” He glanced back at the computer screen. “It’s too interdependent. But I’ve changed the name of the master file. That ought to stop anyone from finding it before we can get it back.”
“All right, then, let’s get out of here.” She was all action now, ready to go. She’d already lost the suit, her biker shorts and braided hair, changing her appearance yet again. “You go first, and then I’ll follow in about five minutes.”
Their plan was to leave the building separately and meet at the Schlotzsky’s across the street. From there, they’d head to Roswell’s office. He pulled off the glasses, and peeled off his pants and shirt. The jeans and T-shirt beneath making him look much like the man they’d met in the hallway. “I’m ready.”
She took the clothes from him, and stuffed them into a gym bag. No doubt she’d dispose of them on her way out. There wasn’t time for conversation, so he pulled her to him roughly, pressing his lips against her hair. “I love you.”
She nodded, and pushed him toward the door. “John?” He swung around to look at her, letting his eyes linger on the soft curves of her face. “What did you name the file?”
“Redemption.”
She resisted the urge to follow him out the door. This was an operation just like any other, and despite the fact that she loved her partner, she had to keep her emotions under control. Five minutes, and then she’d follow him. Ten minutes tops, they’d be together.
Worst-case scenario, they’d be discovered and taken in. All that meant was temporary separation. The hard part was over. The evidence they needed was safely hidden on the computer. Once it was turned over to the proper people, everything would come right in the end.
> Or at least she hoped so.
She walked to the door, peering out through a crack, in time to see John reaching for the release button on the entry doors. He paused for a moment, turning to look back, his gaze meeting hers as he signaled okay with his fingers.
She released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Everything was going to be all right. It had to be. She turned away from the door and walked back to the computer, bending to pick up the duffel bag. Standing on a chair, she pushed back a ceiling tile next to an air duct and shoved the duffel through the resulting hole. She’d retrieve it when they came back for the files.
Or leave it be. It really didn’t matter.
All that mattered now was getting the evidence of Danny’s betrayal to the right people and clearing John’s name. There was still more they needed to prove, but with the information here, even Roswell would have to give it all a second look.
She slid the tile back into place and dropped down off the chair, moving cautiously toward the door. They’d made it this far, no sense in screwing it up in the final minutes. With her back flat to the wall, she inched the door open, peering out into the hallway, her heart lurching to a stop.
John was still out there, flanked on one side by his brother, and on the other by what looked like the Guardian janitor. Except that the janitor held a gun. Her heart resumed beating, at a rate that would rival a racehorse’s, and she dropped to the floor, scurrying across it as fast as she could.
Based on what she’d seen, she had about two minutes. She hit the chair on a dead run, grateful that it wasn’t on wheels. Her breathing coming in shallow gasps, she pushed aside the ceiling tile once again, this time pulling herself through the gaping hole, praying the ductwork would support her weight. Praying even harder that John had the foresight not to mention her presence.
The ceiling held, and she slid the tile back into place, just as she heard the door slam open.
Chapter 26
John stumbled into the room, his eyes automatically searching for Katie, surprised and relieved to find no one there. The only sign at all of activity was a chair standing in the middle of the room. Glancing up, he thought he caught a modicum of movement as a ceiling tile slid back into place.
Jerking his vision back down, he pretended to fall, knocking the chair over in the process, the clamor hopefully covering any sound from above.
“Get up.” A dispassionate Mr. Kim motioned John with the gun.
“I can’t, I’ve hurt my leg.” He rubbed it for emphasis, his eyes locking on his brother. Danny refused to meet his gaze, his attention centered on the floor.
“Help him.” Again it was Kim who issued the order, and with a belligerent look, Danny complied, helping him up, then moving back, leaving Kim’s line of fire clear.
Ever the brave one, his brother.
“Where’s the girl?” Kim’s eyes shot around the room, looking for hiding places.
“She’s not here.” John worked to keep his tone even, determined not to give Katie away.
“Don’t be foolish, Brighton, I saw you walk in with a woman.”
“It wasn’t her, I swear it. It was a woman who works here, Evelyn.” His mind scrambled for a plausible explanation. “I used to date her. You remember her, Danny? She’s a technician for D.E.S. That’s how I got in. Look, Kim, you said you saw her. She doesn’t look anything like Katie.”
“Is this true?” Kim turned to Danny, his gun still pointing at John. “Is there an Evelyn?”
Danny shuffled nervously, as if he was afraid to answer, then finally shrugged. “There was a woman here that John was seeing. But I can’t remember her name.”
Kim frowned, turning his attention back to John, eyes narrowed in thought. “If Agent Cavanaugh isn’t here, then where is she?”
“I’m afraid I had to incapacitate her. It was the only way to escape. I needed to clear my name and she wasn’t exactly a team player.” He shrugged, hoping for nonchalance.
“So you’re on your own?” Kim didn’t look as if he was totally buying the situation, but he seemed to be on the verge.
John struggled for something to say that would seal the deal, praying that Katie was headed for help. “It seems these days I’m always on my own, Mr. Kim.” He shot a look at his brother, having no problem at all adding the necessary touch of cynicism.
Kim nodded in acquiescence, and moved toward the door. “Your brother will explain to you what we need, while I secure the corridors.” He slipped from the room, his movements silent, almost catlike.
John spun around to face his brother, his intent to convince Danny that they could act together against Kim, but the look on Danny’s face put an abrupt end to the thought.
“I need the blueprints, John. And you have the codes.” The words were simple, their meaning quite clear, but some part of John’s mind refused to accept them. Refused to accept the fact that his brother was his enemy.
He took a step toward Danny, not really sure what he intended to do, his mind still resolutely avoiding the reality of the situation.
“Stop.” Danny stepped toward the door. “You can’t take me. Not with your leg like that. And even if you could, you’d still have to get past Kim. And believe me, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this. Together we could stop him.” John hated the note of pleading in his voice, but Danny was his brother. Surely that still meant something.
“Don’t be obtuse. I’m not interested in changing sides.” Danny’s words were harsh, driving reality home.
“So you’d just let him kill me?” John knew the answer, but perversely he needed to hear Danny say it.
“You haven’t given me any choice, Jonathan. I thought I had it all worked out, you know. With your memory loss, you weren’t a risk anymore. I hoped things could go back to the way they were, but then you started nosing around again, and everything escalated out of control.”
John stared at his brother. Danny looked the same, even sounded the same, but the words belonged to someone he didn’t know. “So you’re blaming all of this on me?”
“In a way. If you could have just left well enough alone, then Miller would still be alive and none of this would have had to happen.”
“I don’t understand.” He thought maybe he did, but the idea of it was so repulsive he couldn’t find the strength to accept it as truth.
Danny blew out a breath, his eyes hardening. “Of course you don’t. How could you? For all your ramblings about walking on the edge, you haven’t really got a clue what it’s like to take a chance. I mean, really step out on a limb for something. There’s a rush, Jonathan. An amazing high that comes with taking that kind of risk.”
“Is that how this started? As a game?” He tried, but couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice.
“Something like that. At first I just wanted to prove I could do it. In fact, in the beginning I actually put the information I ‘borrowed’ back again. But as Guardian grew, so did the opportunities to take the game to a new level. The things our clients were asking us to protect were worth more and more money, and that meant the risk of stealing them was exponentially higher as well.”
“So you did all of this for the thrill of it?”
Danny shrugged. “There was money, too. And after I got involved with the Koreans, a certain degree of threat.” There was a note of regret in his voice that hadn’t been there earlier. “I suppose it’s possible that I got in over my head, but once it was done, there was no going back. And at least in the beginning, our association was a good one. Until you managed to mess everything up. You and Derek Miller. When Miller found out someone had been selling secrets, he didn’t realize at first that it was me, that came later, but in the meantime, being the overzealous employee that he was, he took the information he had to you. And you came straight to me.”
“Because I trusted you.” John felt physically ill as he realized that he’d been right all along. Inadvertently, he
had been responsible for Miller’s death.
Danny actually looked apologetic. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. You have to believe that. But ultimately it was my only way out. When Miller figured out it was me, he came to me wanting money. At first I refused. But then he threatened to go to the Feds and tell them everything.” He sounded like a little boy trying to justify the mischief he’d caused. Only they were talking about murder. “He left me no alternative, Jonathan.”
“So you shot him.”
“Yes. And arranged for you to take the fall.”
“Why didn’t you just come to me, Danny? I could have helped you.”
His brother shook his head, his expression sorrowful. “It had gone too far. As I said, the Koreans were threatening me. And in truth, you knew too much. You were going to die one way or the other, Jonathan, but if I wanted to live, I needed a cover, and you provided the perfect out. It was down to you or me.” Danny struggled for breath. “And as hard as it was to do it, I chose me. So I shot Miller with a gun I’d registered in your name. I’ve been forging your signature forever. Don’t you remember when I signed you out of the hospital?”
The memory came flooding back. Danny laughing as he signed the papers. Pretending concern. Promising it would be all right. John swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
“I’m sorry, Jonathan. But the setup was too perfect. I’d already arranged your vacation, so that I’d have an opportunity to get into the D.E.S. system.”
“That’s why Andy didn’t remember my agreeing to take the villa. It was you.” John’s mind was spinning, frantically trying to remember things that were forever gone.
Danny’s laugh was without mirth. “You believed what you were told. But yes, I convinced you to go, and promised to tell Andy. And I would have. At that point I just wanted you out of the way. But then Miller started making noises. So I was forced to change plans. I conveniently forgot to tell Andy, and off you went. All that was left was to arrange for your death.”
“And the money?” John leaned back against the computer desk, his head pounding, his knees weak.