Jim returned. “Mr. Platt said he’ll talk to you. Follow me.”
#
Cyrus Platt lived in a house that appeared modest on the outside, but was spacious and state-of-the-art on the inside. Sean noted the security around the property and asked Jim a few questions which he declined to answer. Though Sean would get the answers—through Platt or on his own—he understood Jim’s silence. “How long have you been with Platt?”
“Eight years.”
“And before that—you were in security? The military?”
“Security. My military service was long ago.”
Platt met them at the door. He was shorter than both Jim and Sean, roughly fifty, trim and athletic. He wore slacks and a button-down shirt and wire-rimmed glasses. Platt looked directly at Sean. “I contacted your partner.”
“Good,” Sean said. He tied Bandit up on the porch—the dog was prone to wandering, and he didn’t want to lose him.
“Mr. Caruso vouches for your credentials, but you can understand why I’m skeptical.”
“I would be too.”
Platt motioned for them to enter the house, then turned his attention to Lucy.
“I also spoke with an acquaintance of mine in the Denver field office. He said you’re out of San Antonio.”
“Yes, sir,” Lucy said.
Sean frowned. While he would have done the same thing under the circumstances, it was more than a little annoying that Platt was checking on Lucy. She preferred keeping a low profile. How long had it been since Jim called Platt? Fifteen, twenty minutes? He’d certainly been busy.
“We’re here on a vacation,” Sean said, “not work. But our neighbor is missing, someone is mining just outside your property line, and your security has been compromised.”
“Which is why you’re here. Mr. Caruso spoke highly of your skills, and I contacted my security chief in New York who has heard positive reviews of your company. You didn’t think I would allow you to touch my security system if I didn’t vet you.”
“No, that would be stupid, and you’re anything but stupid.” Sean’s words were flattering, but his tone was not. “Is there anything else you want to know? Time is short.”
“I don’t play games, Mr. Rogan, but I am known for being blunt, and have been told my bluntness can be seen as arrogance.” He nodded to Jim. “Take Mr. Rogan to the security room. He needs to sign a simple non-disclosure.” When Sean was about to object, Platt said, “I’m giving you access to my private security system and to my office. If you see anything that could be used outside of this investigation, I have to protect myself—certainly you understand.”
Sean didn’t like it, but he understood. “I’ll do it.”
“Charles is on his way,” Platt said. “Charles Van Kamp is the owner of the security company I contract with.” He said to Lucy, “Agent Kincaid, I’d like you to explain more about what happened with Mr. Henderson. I know Hank—not well, but we’re on good terms—and I’m troubled that he’d missing.”
Jim led Sean down the hall to a two-story library that Sean was envious of. The first thing Jim did was pull a single sheet of paper from the top desk drawer. “Sorry about this, but Mr. Platt has had financial information compromised in the past, and his favorite saying is ‘fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.’ The simple NDA is straight-forward and to the point. The one I signed is far more detailed.”
Sean read the brief document. Jim was right—it was straightforward and Sean wasn’t concerned about signing. He’d worked with even more paranoid clients over the years.
Jim made a copy on a desktop copier and handed it to Sean, who folded and stuffed it in his pocket.
“This way,” Jim said.
The security room was windowless and accessible only through the library. Sean visually inspected the room. “This is a panic room.”
“It doubles as a panic room, yes.”
Sean looked at the ceiling and suspected the faint lines he saw in the roof were a trap door from the second floor—possibly Platt’s bedroom. Jim followed Sean’s gaze, but didn’t say anything.
Cyrus Platt had become more interesting by the minute.
“Charles won’t be long,” Jim said. “If you’d like to wait.”
“Not necessary.” The system was high-end, but still a basic home security system. Sean sat at the computer. “I could hack your system, but it would take time, so if you have the admin password, I would appreciate it.”
Jim verbally told him the password.
“First thing you need to do is change it,” Sean said. “The combination is clearly a date. I don’t know whose—except the last four digits are 1996, so I suspect either Platt’s anniversary or a child. Either way, it’s a date, and if it’s a date, it’s easily guessable.”
Jim didn’t say anything, but a quick glance at his expression told Sean he was right.
“The system wasn’t hacked,” Sean said after he logged in and checked the admin log. He scrolled through. “You said you arrived Thursday?”
“Correct.”
“Someone accessed the house on Wednesday at one in the afternoon, reset the alarms at seven that night.”
“Housekeeping. They come in to air out the house, stock the pantry, make the beds.”
It took Sean a few minutes, but he found the security map and started taking notes about how the internal and external security functioned. Often, especially in a solid system like this one, it wasn’t the programming, but the hardware that caused the problems.
“How did you determine that your perimeter security had been compromised? Were you sent a system warning?”
“No. There are three security layers. Internal, external, and perimeter. We keep the main security on, but the perimeter security uses extensive energy to run the cameras, and with weather issues and animals, adjusting the sensitivity was problematic. And honestly, we don’t need it if we’re not here. If anyone breeches the gates or the house, the security company is contacted immediately.”
“But someone disabled the cameras on the perimeter and no one knows when it happened. How did you figure it out?”
“When we turned on the system, we got an error message. I contacted Charles. He determined from the system that the cameras were somehow disconnected. He intended to send a crew out to fix it, but because we were only going to be here for a few days, I didn’t encourage him to rush the job. I asked if it was intentional or accidental, and he doesn’t know. It could have been any number of things, and there was nothing on the security logs to indicate we had an internal breach. Hell, squirrels could have chewed through the cables or a wind would have disabled them.”
“These cables—if the specs here are accurate—are too sturdy to be damaged by rodents or the climate. I’ll find out what happened, but considering that someone is illegally mining along the access road, my guess is they didn’t want anyone to see them and may not have known the cameras were not operational. Or, they knew you were coming to town and wanted to make sure you couldn’t identify them.”
Jim shook his head. “This trip was scheduled last minute. Mr. Platt had a meeting with his daughter yesterday, and decided to take the weekend to relax before traveling to Japan on Monday.”
“Who knew you were coming to town?”
“Mr. Platt’s office of course, myself, the security company out of Vail, housekeeping.”
“And his daughter?”
“Well, yes, of course. That’s why he scheduled the trip.”
“His daughter’s friends? Boyfriend? Neighbors?”
“I don’t see what you’re getting at here.”
“Just that a lot of people could have known you were coming. Or, that was irrelevant to the miner and he disabled the cameras because he didn’t know they weren’t operational. I’m leaning that way because the northern perimeter cameras are operating as expected. It’s only those on the east side of your property that are out.” He typed. “I see. There are three different power poin
ts. But they are all buried. Did you see signs of digging on your property?”
“No—and like I said, the house cameras are on 24/7.”
“Then I suspect someone clipped wires on the perimeter cameras.”
“How can you tell that? All I see are numbers.”
Sean said, “Each of those codes corresponds to an individual external camera, but groups are networked into a main hub, which is sent via a hardline to the house. That was smart—you don’t want to deal with wireless cameras on a network like this. The house is wireless, but you have a central hub that can handle it. As you move farther out, you want them hardwired. And there are two generators on the property, so even in a power outage you’re good.”
“How do you know that?”
“Guess. I’d have two generators on a property this size.” Sometimes, it was just common sense, and since Cyrus Platt had the reputation of being the epitome of common sense, Sean figured he would operate security the way any other smart businessman would—likely hiring a top security company to set it up.
Sean typed in silence, wrote down some code, and checked into all the other security functions of the system. “Good—you keep digital records from all cameras for the duration of your stay, then archived for thirty days before they’re deleted. I want to look at the recordings since Thursday.”
“But the cameras didn’t record.”
Jim sounded frustrated, but Sean said calmly, “Only the eastern cameras didn’t record. But you have cameras on the north at this point,” he gestured on the map, “and this point, which is your driveway entrance. Those weren’t damaged, which tells me that the individual either didn’t see them, or didn’t think they would show anything. But the only way to drive a truck—especially a large four-wheel drive as was used to pull the trammel—would be to come through to the access road on the north.” Sean looked at his tablet where he had the map of all the properties in the area. The Cannons owned the largest chunk, and three other families lived on the north side of the road, but the rest of the immediate area was federal land.
The Cannons may have seen or heard something. Based on the property records, their house was on the opposite end of their acreage, but if Hank and Sean could hear the trammel, the Cannons may also have heard it. Their driveway entrance was directly across from the access road entrance, but they also owned all the land between their house and the road. It was a nice spread.
“Do you know the Cannons?” Sean asked.
“Yes, of course. They’re neighbors and their grandson is dating Mr. Platt’s daughter.”
“Daughter? Gracie Calvert is Platt’s daughter?”
“Yes. She’s an artist and lives in town. Do you know her?”
“No, but I heard her name at the art festival last night.” Sean tried to remember what Abigail had said. Was she friends with Gracie? Or Kyle?
“Mr. Platt is extremely protective of his daughter. You’ll want to watch yourself.” Jim sounded both defensive and suspicious.
“I’m thinking out loud,” he said. “Lucy and I were at the art preview night yesterday. Gracie is a painter, right?”
Jim relaxed. “Watercolors and pencil drawings. She’s talented and wants to open an art gallery.” He paused.
“Wants to?”
“That’s why Mr. Platt came up this weekend. She wants him to loan her the seed money, and he asked her for a business plan. Like I said, Gracie is talented, but doesn’t have a head for business. She gave him a plan that was … well, let’s just say if the plan had been submitted by one of his employees, that person would be fired. But Mr. Platt spent several hours with her yesterday going over what she needed to do, and asked for a revised plan when he returns from his trip to Japan.”
“A crash course in business development from a master,” Sean said. “I’m almost jealous.”
“I wish she’d take it that way. He wants to give her the money—Gracie is his youngest, from his second marriage. He spoils her—bought her the condo in Vail, gives her a nice allowance. But when it comes to a business investment, he wants a plan—family notwithstanding.”
“So I take it she wasn’t happy.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I inferred.”
“She found a space she wanted to rent and needs to put down a deposit on Monday.”
“And he didn’t give her the money.”
Jim didn’t comment, but it was clear to Sean. Yet … he couldn’t picture the willowy girl he’d seen kissing Kyle Cannon mining for gold as a way to get money fast. Selling the gold wasn’t a problem—Sean could think of a half dozen ways to sell illegal gold—but it was hard work and turning it into cash quickly might be problematic.
But would her boyfriend do something to help her? Sean couldn’t shake the image of Kyle Cannon arguing with the short, stout man at the hotel last night.
He wanted to talk to the Cannons—ask if they saw or heard anything—and specifically he wanted to talk to Kyle. But he didn’t trust anyone else to go through the security feeds to look for something Sean couldn’t quite explain. He wanted to track every vehicle that passed Platt’s driveway, but in his experience, people grew lazy viewing film, especially when they didn’t have something at stake. There were nuances to computer security that Sean understood but couldn’t articulate.
“It’s going to take a couple hours to go through the recordings,” Sean said.
“A couple? There’s forty-eight hours on two different cameras. Four days of data.”
“I can speed it up, and I’m only looking for vehicles—specifically trucks that have the capacity to haul a trammel.”
“Mr. Platt wants to help, so you can use me. And Charles when he gets here.”
“We also need to talk to the Cannons, and contact the deputy in charge of Hank’s disappearance about the mining. She might have an idea about what’s going on up here.”
Sean stood, stretched, and tracked down Lucy and Cyrus Platt in the kitchen where they were drinking coffee.
“Coffee?” Platt offered.
“No, thank you. I know what happened to your cameras, though I’ll need to inspect them on site when your security guy gets here. Someone simply cut the wires going into each camera.”
“I thought hardwiring the system would be more efficient. I was wrong.”
“You were right—it is, for what you need here—but there was no failsafe. You shut down that system when you’re not here, so there’s no security alert if someone tampers with it. There’s an easy fix. I’ll recommend it to your security people, so you’ll know if someone tampers with them in the future. I’d like to look at your other perimeters cams—only those along the access road were disabled. The other two are functioning, and there’s only one way to get to the access road and it’s past those cameras.”
He turned to Lucy. “Do you think you could head over to the Cannons? They must have heard something, maybe saw a strange truck. We’re looking for something that can pull a heavy load. Probably covered. The trammel can be hauled on a trailer or rolled into a truck bed. But based on the waste in the clearing, the guy had to have been working every night for a week, maybe longer.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Platt said, “but Jim said something woke him last night.”
“The sound echoed down the mountain, hit Hank and us because of the angle and possibly the wind. And Lucy and I didn’t hear anything all week, until last night—and that was only because we were already awake.”
“It’s two miles to the Cannon house,” Platt said. “Jim, take Agent Kincaid.”
“I don’t think I should leave you until we know what’s going on here,” Jim said.
Platt turned to Sean. “You’re in security, correct? Not just computer security, but personal security.”
“Yes.”
Platt turned to Jim. “Go, Jim. I’m not going to leave the property, and Rogan seems to know what he’s doing.”
Chapter Seven
On the short dri
ve to the Cannon property, Lucy called Deputy Anita Longfellow and told her everything she and Sean had learned that morning.
The deputy was silent for several seconds before she asked, “Are you certain someone was mining?”
“Yes. I know it sounds outrageous, but Sean says there’s evidence that a trammel was used? I’m not familiar with the process.”
“I am. There’s a long-standing rumor that there’s gold up here—in fact, all through this mountain range. But I’ve never heard of anyone finding a substantial amount of gold. Who’s land?”
“Sean isn’t positive based on the maps he downloaded, but the clearing is on the border of the Cannon and Henderson properties. Could cross over into both, but east of the fire road.”
“Could you and your husband meet me there?”
“I’m going to check on the Cannons—they may have seen or heard from Hank.” Plus, Lucy wanted to ask them about what they might have heard in the middle of the night. “Sean is at the Platt house on the west side of the access road.”
“I’ll call the rangers. They know this land better than I do, but I’ll give them your contact information. They may want to talk to you.”
Jim had already stopped at the entrance to the Cannon driveway before Lucy was done with her conversation.
“I think you should call in search dogs,” Lucy said.
“Hank’s only been missing one night. I know it’s frustrating, but we don’t know where he went or what he was doing.”
“We’re certain he went to inspect the mining. He probably didn’t know what he was walking into—he mentioned illegal camping. But I saw evidence of a scuffle and a small landslide. I don’t have the equipment or knowledge of the area to search for him. It may have been a natural rock slide. But in light of everything else that’s going on, I think we should assume the worst.”
“Shit,” Anita mumbled. “Okay, I’ll talk to our search team and the rangers and get back to you.”
When Lucy ended the call, she read a text message from Sean.
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