by Jan Coffey
Ben had been sleeping when she’d left this morning. It was so tempting to lie there in bed with him. She had to see Conor, though, make sure he was okay. She had to let him know she was fine, too.
When she left the house, a couple of federal agents were arriving to replace the team in the van. She told them where she was going, and they had given her the latest update on the arrest. Her car was eight years old, so there’d been no objection about driving it. Still, she’d noticed she had a police escort as she drove to the high school.
She spun around as someone tapped her on the shoulder.
“I would have handed you a stack of business cards and menus to pass out if I knew you’d be standing here like this,” Liz said.
Emily smiled at Conor and her sister. He gave her a big hug, paying no attention at all to the kids hanging around the front door.
“Is it over?” the teenager asked as soon as they both let go.
“I think so. I hope so. They have someone in custody.”
“So I can come back home?” he asked.
Liz plucked at his sleeve. “Hey, I haven’t been beating you too much, have I?”
“No, you’ve been great.” Conor smiled at his aunt. “But you know how things are. My old lady needs taking care of.”
“Old lady?” Emily punched him jokingly in the arm.
“Old mother?”
“When did I become old?”
“Old is a relative term,” Liz interrupted. “You’re talking to a fourteen-year-old, honey.”
A bell rang, making the two women jump. Conor grinned and adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. The crowd of students began filing in.
“So can I, Mom?”
“Yes, you can,” Emily replied. If the FBI had the right guy, then everything was truly behind them.
“Excellent.” Conor smiled, starting to back toward the doors. “But I won’t be home until five. Ashley and I have to stay again after school to work in the lab. You don’t have to worry about picking me up, though. Her mom will give us a ride.”
“Ashley is quite a looker,” Liz said as soon as Conor had disappeared through the door. “Have you two had the talk?”
“They’re only lab partners,” Em said in a hushed tone, even though they were the only ones left on the sidewalk.
Liz pushed the sunglasses down onto the end of her nose and gave her a look. “I think you should buy him a pack of condoms and explain his responsibilities.”
“Didn’t you do that?” Emily asked.
“Yes, but I only gave him the intro to the lecture.”
Emily stared blankly at the line of trees at the end of the parking lot. Liz was right. She couldn’t put it off. And she certainly couldn’t wait and have David do it next summer when Conor visited him for a couple of weeks.
“It’ll be very uncomfortable, but I’ll…I’ll do it.”
Liz threw an arm around her and gave Emily a big fat kiss on the cheek.
“What was that for?” She looked at her sister’s wide grin.
“You did it. You had sex. Hallelujah.”
Em immediately covered Liz’s mouth. Grabbing her by the arm, she dragged her toward her car. “Why? What makes you…?”
“Honey, a couple of days ago you would have chopped off my head and stuffed it under my arm if I even hinted that you should talk to Conor about sex.” She looped her arm through Emily’s as they walked. “Your sudden enlightenment tells me that you’ve been liberated. And I only know of one way to do that. So, how is Mr. Colter in bed?”
Emily blushed fiercely. “I’m not telling you.”
“Why not?”
She grinned. “You know I don’t like to brag.”
“Brag?” Liz hooted. “So he’s that good?”
“Who’s that good?”
Emily hadn’t seen Jeremy until they were right next to him. He was leaning against the door of an old sedan that was blocking her car.
“Don’t you say a word,” she warned Liz before turning to the detective and giving him a light kiss on the cheek. “I can’t thank you for everything you’ve been doing. You’ve been a true friend.”
“Don’t mention it.”
She looked around her. “And I can see you’ve dismissed my police escort.”
“No, they’re waiting at the end of the lot.” He looked at Liz. “Who is she bragging about?”
“Ben. The two of them had sex last night.”
Emily covered her face with both hands, not believing Liz actually said the words.
“That wasn’t their first time.”
“It wasn’t?” Liz asked.
Emily’s hands dropped. The two were facing each other. She couldn’t believe her ears.
“He stayed over Saturday night. You have to figure something happened then.”
“You’re the detective,” Liz said. “But I don’t think anything happened Saturday night. Don’t forget, we’re talking about Emily.”
“What? Emily can’t be attracted to an eligible bachelor?”
“Attracted, yes. Have sex? Not necessarily.”
“Well, that sort of runs in the family.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Emily stood back, amazed at the conversation.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Jeremy said with a shrug.
“No, I don’t know.” Liz poked his biceps with one finger. “Just because I don’t want to have sex with you, that means there’s something wrong with me?”
“Yes.”
“Hello!” Emily sang, waving a hand between them.
Both of them turned, looking almost surprised at the sight of Emily watching and listening.
“I don’t mean to break up this little chat, but I have to get back to the house. A couple of the agents are coming back this morning to talk to me. Do you need a ride?” Em asked her sister.
“Yeah, I do. Thanks.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Jeremy put in. “I’m going back to the village. I’ll drop Liz off.”
“I don’t want to go with you.” Liz yanked open the back door and took Conor’s overnight bag out, handing it to Emily. She had to lean farther in to get her bag, and Jeremy gave her butt a nudge and closed the door on her.
“Old police car,” he said to Emily. “But still good. The door handles don’t work from the inside.”
Liz was yelling from the inside of the car. Emily waved and smiled sweetly at her.
“If it’s okay with you,” the detective said, “Liz and I are overdue for a heart-to-heart talk. What time does she usually open up the café on Tuesdays?”
“She opens up at eleven. But she gets there about an hour before to prep for lunch.”
“Eleven is good. They don’t expect me at work until noon. That will give us some time.”
“Don’t you need to talk to the FBI?”
“I already did.” Giving her a kiss on the cheek, he walked around to get behind the wheel.
Liz only seemed to realize what was going on as the car drove away. Emily waved at her sister, who stared at her with her mouth open.
Emily smiled. Maybe her prayers about these two had finally been answered.
Thirty-Eight
“My understanding is that the arrest of Robert Chen is only the first step. The FBI and Homeland Security are still fully involved, since there’s no guarantee that he hasn’t already sold the technology overseas,” Gina told Ben as she stepped out of her car. “They’re not sure if he was a lone wolf operator or not, they definitely haven’t ruled out the possibility that he could be a member of a terrorist sleeper cell.”
She had to park on the road to avoid blocking the four other vehicles already in Emily’s driveway. They started toward the house.
“This will affect everything.”
“Right. The mere mention of the word terrorist and the people who hired us will most likely be off the hook with regard to liability.”
Ben shook his head. “I disagree. You know that with accidents c
aused by any kind of system failure, no one will be off the hook—especially now that there’s been a fatality. The only way this guy could have planted his virus in all of these cars is through negligence on someone’s part. Someone will be toast before this thing is over.”
“That’s a definite possibility,” Gina said with a shrug. “I took your suggestion and fired off an e-mail about us being on top of the accident in Albany. I told them that Adam had left this morning to be on the scene for the diagnostics work.”
“You didn’t give them anything too specific about what’s going on here, did you?”
She shook her head. “Adam has his own contacts on the inside, but I’m sure he’s keeping a lid on his work. As far as the feds go, I don’t know who or what level of management they’re in communication with. My guess is that the top execs at each company know what’s going on, but they’ll be keeping quiet until they know exactly how to handle the PR.”
“You’re sounding very cynical today, Counselor Ellis.”
“Actually, I feel the same way as they do,” Gina replied as they reached the door. “I want this to be over, and I want it handled in a way that doesn’t cause mass hysteria. I sure don’t want to feel responsible for more deaths, but I also don’t want the country shutting down for fear that their car is going to kill them.”
“Good point.”
For the first time, Gina’s gaze fell on his arm. “How are you doing?”
He glanced down at it. He’d decided to wear the sling today. “I’m back to a hundred percent.”
“Liar,” she replied. “How’s Emily holding up?”
“When I came out to see you, she was going through the pictures, personnel files and everything else the FBI has put together on Robert Chen since last night.”
“And?”
“I don’t know. But from the expression on her face, I have a feeling she thinks that nabbing this guy might just be too good to be true.” Ben held the door open for Gina to go inside in front of him.
In the living room, Emily’s gaze lifted from the folders and she looked across at Gina and Ben.
She was pale. Ben wished he could take her away from all of this. She’d done the lion’s share of everything, and he wanted the rest of the experts to handle what needed to be done. The desire to walk away from the middle of the action was a first to him, but so was falling this hard and fast for any woman.
Special Agent Hinckey ended a phone call in the kitchen and walked back into the living room. He and Gina had met before, so Ben didn’t have to make any introductions.
“There’s nothing here that triggers anything, as far as I’m concerned,” Emily said to the group. “I’m almost positive I’ve never met this man. It’s just a coincidence that we both did our grad work at MIT. A lot of people went there during that time. Plus, I was older than him. We wouldn’t have been taking the same classes.” She looked at the picture in her hand again and shook her head. “We’ve never met. I’m sure of it.”
“Checking the logs from your Monday night chat sessions,” one of the agents commented, “it looks like he was a frequent visitor.”
“These days, any computer savvy fourteen-year-old can steal somebody’s ID,” Emily replied. She put the files on the coffee table and stood up. “All those logs prove is that someone may have been using his ID for a while.”
“Do you know anything about Chen’s routines?” Ben asked. “What he does on Monday nights, for example?”
The two agents looked at the SAC, as if they weren’t sure if they should be answering questions. At Hinckey’s nod, though, they turned back at Ben.
“He’s a loner,” one of the agents said.
“No health club memberships or any other kind of regular routines that we can tell,” the other agent added. “From what we can figure out, he works, goes home and goes online. No apparent social life outside of that. He has parents in Taiwan that he sends money to, and he goes back there for vacations. We’re still digging, though.”
“You’ve already been to his domicile, haven’t you?” Ben pressed. “Did you find anything having to do with Emily? Pictures, announcements, bulletins about her talks?”
“We’ve only made a preliminary search,” the first agent said defensively. “Our people still have a lot to go through.”
“Robert Chen is supposedly crazy enough to drive my car and Detective Simpson’s car off the road—attempting to kill us—because he suspected we might be too close to Emily. Don’t you think something should have jumped out at you? Some reference to her in his computer, a picture of her in his wallet, something indicating even casual interest?”
“We’ve had less than twelve hours with him,” the first agent said defensively.
“And has he admitted anything?” Emily asked Hinckey directly.
An uncomfortable silence fell on the room. Hinckey ran a hand through his thinning hair and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “No. He’s acting like he has no clue what’s going on. But that’s to be expected.”
“Is it possible that you have the wrong man?” Gina asked gently.
“His profile fits,” the SAC answered. “He has access to all the systems that we’ve been investigating. He says he was watching television last night, but we know his computer was on. We’re running tests on it now.”
“A lot of other people who work with him also fit the profile, isn’t that right?” Emily asked. “I did a little research on the Internet about Hudson Hills Software, and it appears that a number of engineers there might have security clearances into a few different auto manufacturer’s systems.”
“That’s correct,” Hinckey said calmly. “We’re not closing the door on the investigation. We have a suspect in custody. Meanwhile, we’re collecting information on everyone else in the company. But it’s a slower process.”
“Can you do that without raising suspicions?” Emily asked.
“The Patriot Act gives them the authority to conduct secret ‘sneak and peak’ searches,” Gina said to her. “Public safety system problems are considered a crime under the Act.”
“But if Chen isn’t the one you want,” Emily asked, “isn’t it a long shot that the real culprit is connected to him in any way?”
Hinckey didn’t contradict her. “We have to pursue every lead we have. The potential security repercussions are too enormous.”
“So you don’t think Chen is the one,” Ben said. It was not a question.
Hinckey frowned and looked back at Emily. “We want you to proceed with your meeting this afternoon as originally planned. We’d like you to go through with it as if there’s been no arrest and the perpetrator is still at large. Our agents are taking care of the details right now and setting up at the café.”
“While you continue to hold Chen?” Ben asked.
“We’re not finished questioning him.”
“But how about the danger that’s still out there?” Gina asked. “We know what this person is capable of. Don’t you think there should be some kind of public announcement?”
Hinckey shook his head. “The decision from the top has been made to hold off. It’s possible that the perpetrator is in custody, but even if he is innocent, we could resolve everything in a matter of five or six hours.”
“It took less time than that for two airplanes to crash into the World Trade Center,” Gina said forcefully. “I would’ve hoped there was a lesson or two learned from that tragedy.”
“We are taking precautions on every level. Homeland Security, the CIA, our people and various law enforcement agencies are on alert,” Hinckey said with authority. “Even the president is aware of the situation. We will do everything to prevent any major disaster from occurring.”
“This guy could have four million robots out there at his disposal,” Emily argued, moving next to Ben. “You don’t know where he’s going to hit.”
“We have the major sites covered.”
“What constitutes major? The White House? What abo
ut the people who are at risk? More than a thousand lives lost? More than five thousand?” Emily pressed, obviously upset. “I say one life lost is too many. That woman in Albany yesterday…her life could have been saved.”
Ben reached over and took Emily’s hand. Her fingers were ice-cold. She leaned into him. The two agents sitting down were pretending to be too busy gathering the files off the table to answer any questions. Hinckey seemed very uncomfortable, but he wasn’t offering any answers.
“You’re betting that he’s a stalker with limited intentions and not a terrorist,” Ben offered, breaking the silence. “But that doesn’t explain more than half of the accidents. I think you’re underestimating this man’s potential.”
“Five o’clock. We’ll continue as planned until then.” Hinckey said finally. “It’ll be a whole new ball game after that if things don’t go as we hope they will.”
Thirty-Nine
Thirty-five minutes was all it took for Lyden to clean the files.
The office had almost cleared out for lunch when he’d arrived at noon. He’d gone right to work. There was no sign of the FBI anywhere. Before his co-workers started trickling in, he had everything back up and running. There was nothing on his computer and in his file cabinet that pertained to anything but work.
“Lyden!” Helen spotted him from thirty yards off and came lumbering down the aisle. “What are you doing back? We were trying to get you at home?”
“I was feeling better,” he said, slamming shut his file drawer. “I think maybe it’s that fucking coffee that’s doing me in.”
“No using the f-word, Lyden. You know it’s against company policy.”
He picked up the thick stack of papers in his in-basket and dumped them into the wastebasket.
“I…I was trying to reach you at home before lunch.”
“Why?” Lyden knew why she’d been trying to get hold of him. They were such fucking morons.