Killerbyte (byte Series Book 1)

by Cat Connor

  I wanted pizza, even pizza sent by the Unsub would do.

  A loud knock from the front door echoed up the hallway. Mac leapt to his feet, followed by Caine and Bob. The three of them hurried down the hall. I crept after them. I managed to keep out of sight and slipped into the living room doorway. From there I could see the front door, and hear all that went on.

  “Do psychotic killers knock?” Mac asked, as they approached the door.

  “A psychotic killer with manners would,” Bob replied. “Mac, out of sight. You and Caine hop into the coat closet.”

  I moved a little so I could see. Bob readied himself to open the door. He hid his gun behind his back. There was a man on the doorstep.

  “I need your help, Dad,” he said, and pushed past Bob to gain entry. “Why was the door locked?”

  “Not now,” Bob said. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll drop by in the morning.”

  The light outside the front door illuminated the horror on the man’s face. I recognized him as Eddie, Mac’s older brother. “This is important!”

  “I’m sure it is,” Bob said. “I’m busy this evening.”

  Eddie grabbed his father’s arm. “You can’t tell anyone, but I think the Son of Shakespeare is after me,” he declared his eyes wide and somewhat crazy-looking.

  Oh dear, Eddie, that’s the wrong story to be telling your Dad tonight. I watched Bob shake his head from side to side. I saw resignation on his face.

  Eddie had an overactive imagination. Mac told me often of the wild claims Eddie made on an almost weekly basis. Last week Eddie had been in hiding due to being on a gang hit list. His stories were so incredible and changed so often, it was entertaining for me to hear. The week before the hit list, he’d been a hero for saving a small girl from the middle of the road just as a car bore down on her. An obvious hit-and-run attempt, according to Eddie. It took Bob only two days to get the real story from Eddie’s boss. Eddie was driving the car and had swerved to miss the child who was using a marked pedestrian crossing at the time. Yet somehow in the retelling, Eddie became a hero. Mac told me he suspected Eddie was fast becoming as unbalanced as their mother.

  “Look at me!” Bob’s harsh tone made me jump. “I don’t have time for your imaginings right now!”

  “I’m not imagining it,” Eddie protested, annoyed. He stepped closer to his father. “He’s after me. I was in a chat room and I think he was there, and someone knew I’m a deputy sheriff.”

  “Eddie. Go home to your wife and kids.” Bob was very firm. “This is not a good time.”

  I heard a noise in the coat closet. By the look on Eddie’s face, he heard it too. He stepped closer and opened the door. Caine and Mac almost fell on him.

  “Hi,” Mac said, as he struggled to regain his balance.

  “What the hell have you been doing?” Eddie’s whiny voice was laced with suspicion.

  “Coming out of the closet,” Mac quipped.

  I held my hand over my mouth so as not to laugh.

  “Oh ... oh,” Eddie replied. He took a stagger.

  “I was joking, you moron,” Mac said, he reached out and slapped Eddie on the back of the head.

  Eddie gave him a shove.

  “Yeah, he was joking,” Caine confirmed. “Weren’t you, sweetie?” He blew him a kiss.

  Mac pointed his finger at Caine. “Don’t you start with me!”

  “Well, we have things to take care of, Bob,” Caine said, winking at Mac

  “Okay,” Bob replied. “Eddie’s just leaving. I’ll be down in a second.”

  Mac and Caine stood by the living room door. Mac glanced sideways. Guess he didn’t expect to see me there. He gasped. Caine spun to face me. I held my finger to my lips and stepped aside so they could slip into the room. We all watched the show together.

  Eddie continued unaware that we were watching. “I’m not leaving. What if he knows where I live? Did you think about your grandchildren at all?”

  “That does it. I have heard all I care to listen to. Go home and sleep it off.”

  Eddie’s manner changed. “What’s going on? You’re hiding something. Oh, I know what it is.” He appeared almost gleeful for a moment.

  “It’s nothing that concerns you,” his father replied.

  “Why’s Cormac here?” Eddie tried to see down the hallway, but his father blocked his view. Agitated, Eddie shifted his copious weight from foot to foot. “You have always liked him more than me.”

  Mac whispered, “Here we go! This is the point where Dad says a silent prayer for strength.”

  We listened to Bob. “He’s staying with us, that’s all there is to it.”

  “Who’s the suit?” Eddie cocked his head to one side and squinted at his father. That action made him appear more insane, as if he had some terrible facial tick.

  “A friend of your brother’s,” Bob replied. “Enough, Eddie. Go home.”

  Eddie opened the door. “I need your help,” he stated, stepping onto the porch.

  “You need to go home and sleep,” Bob reiterated. “I’ll see you tomorrow and then you can tell me all about it.”

  We watched Eddie walk away then hurried back to our room before Bob caught us eavesdropping. Mac waited for his father by the bedroom door.

  “Okay, Dad?”

  “He’s getting worse,” Bob said. “He and reality seem to be directly opposed right now.”

  I interrupted them to excuse myself. I was thirsty and had a dire need for a glass of cool water. “I’ll be right back.”

  With the hallway lights on, it was easier to find my way to the kitchen, and less creepy. I didn’t bother turning the light on in there. I had a glass of water while standing at the sink. Poured another and watched the trees outside blowing in the wind. I saw Mac’s reflection appear beside me.

  “Watch with me,” I said, not turning around.

  “Watch what?”

  “Just wait,” I said.

  We looked past the reflections and focused on the night beyond. The wind blew, rustling the leaves on the trees.

  “There!” I pointed. The leaves parted to reveal a shape in the tree. It vanished as quickly as it came.

  “Oh, my God!” Mac exclaimed. The wind blew again. “Is that a face?”

  “I think so,” I said, unable to take my eyes off the tree. “Damn. Eddie must’ve acted like a purpose-sent decoy.”

  “Stay here.” I saw Mac hurry away in the reflection in the glass. Before long, he was back with Caine and Bob.

  “Look outside, watch that big tree,” I said. I still stared past the reflections and into the night.

  “Why?” Caine peered into the darkness from beside me.

  “There may be a body in it,” Mac replied.

  “Yeah.” There was no surprise in Caine’s tone. “I checked your email. There’s a new one asking how you liked your latest gift, and saying he now sees he was right about Mom and Dad.” Caine squinted at the branches trying to see what we saw.

  “Great!” I hissed, “How the hell would that dickwad know we’d be at Bob’s, and how would he know where to look for them?”

  Caine looked at me strangely.

  “Don’t look at me like that. There are literally hundreds of Connelly’s in VA and more to the point, Bob and Beatrice are not listed in any phone book.”

  Caine frowned. “He commented earlier about Mom and Dad.”

  “Yes, he did. I suspect that wasn’t a stab in the dark, so to speak.” I dragged my eyes from the window to look at him. “So did he trace us, or did he know already and just play a little cat-and-mouse-pizza game?” I went back to looking out the window. I knew what I suspected. “By the way, I want pizza, I feel cheated!”

  A macabre face appeared, its frozen, dead eyes staring through the shifting branches.

  “Shouldn’t we do something about that?” Mac suggested. I could see his face, reflected in the windowpane, watching with morbid curiosity. The body swayed almost to the point of animation.

  “Y
eah,” Caine replied then added. “Wonder where the other two are?”

  Bob passed Caine the telephone receiver from the countertop. “Thanks,” he replied. Caine stepped away from the window and made several calls.

  Mac and I stood shoulder to shoulder, peering into the darkness, waiting to catch another glimpse of the ghoulish figure. I refused to think of this new horror as an agent and perhaps someone I knew. I sensed something in Mac, when our shoulders touched I felt a subtle tremor in his body.

  “What?” I whispered in his ear.

  “Come with me,” he whispered back, taking my hand.

  No one noticed as we slipped from the room and scurried back to our room. We sat facing each other on the bed, and Mac appeared to be having great difficulty controlling a grin forming on his face. It looked like quite a struggle from where I sat.

  “Let me tell you a story from my childhood,” he said as evenly as he could. “Mom, as you know, is a little nuts. Anyway, when I was about nine, I guess she became very angry with the squirrels destroying her flower beds.” He paused. “This particular day she decided to deal with the problem, she sat out in the front yard with a twenty-two, a bucket, and a six-pack of beer.” He looked at me. “She was already drunk.”

  My mind filled with images of Beatrice on that fateful day.

  Mac carried on, “Mom is a really good shot and before long, had filled the bucket with squirrel carcasses. So she stomps off to the backyard, hollering and carrying on about how she hates squirrels, and tosses the contents of this bucket into the bushes.” Mac shook his head. “You’ve never seen anything like it. Their little fuzzy bodies stuck on branches, hanging like some bizarre goddamn Christmas decorations. Tiny beady eyes, staring blankly back.”

  I saw why Mac had difficulty in the kitchen when faced with the ghoulish sight out of the window.

  “That’s dreadful,” I mumbled

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t think I can go back to the kitchen,” I told him. “If I start giggling Caine’s going to have a red, white and blue fit.”

  “Yep,” Mac said. “We’re already in trouble over stumpy.”

  I looked at him and was helpless to stop the rising mirth. It grew into uncontrollable laughter. We collapsed exhausted on the bed.

  “Think anyone heard us?” I whispered. At least I thought I was whispering.

  “It’s late at night, the house is silent.” Mac tried not to make eye contact. “Sound travels.”

  “So we’re in trouble again?”

  “Most probably,” he replied.

  “Don’t you wonder where the other one is?”

  “Well, yeah,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll locate it.”

  We froze as heavy footsteps approached our room, and watched in silence as the door opened.

  Caine stepped in. “Everything all right?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Good.” He nodded. “Medical examiner, forensics, and the local police are here. It’ll be morning before they’re done.”

  “Do you know where the other bodies are yet?” Mac asked, exhibiting much restraint.

  “No clue,” he replied. “Check your mail and let me know if you get anything from our friend.”

  “Sure.”

  Caine left. I guess he went back to direct the investigation and annoy people who were trying to do their jobs. Mac said he wanted to talk to his Dad, to check he was okay. He kissed me. “I’ll be back.”

  “I’ll be here,” I replied, grinning.

  I sat back down in front of the laptop and checked my mail. It was an uneventful exercise. Yet again, someone wanted me to grow a penis. Why couldn’t this Son of Shakespeare target spammers instead of poets? Now that would be a worthwhile public service.

  Seventeen

  Damned

  “Do I sound paranoid, Dad?”

  I strained to hear Bob’s answer but couldn’t make it out. A smoke ring rose from the ashtray next to me and dissolved. The wind had died down to intermittent puffs of cool air. Monday evening was dreary and dull. Police had spent much of the day standing around while forensic technicians did their thing. I’d spent most of the day trying to get answers.

  Mac spoke again, “You must’ve seen the way he looks at her. I’m leery, but is it unfounded? There are too many things we don’t know, and it just seems to me that he’s overly attentive.”

  Bob’s voice was a little huskier than Mac’s, and I had to listen carefully. “Boyo, I’ve been down this path, I know where you are headed.” I concentrated on Bob’s voice. “I’ve also considered that this could be the work of a cop or a fed.”

  He paused. I heard a lighter flick on.

  “Y’know, boyo, you were investigated seven ways from Sunday the minute you became involved with Ellie. He knows everything there is to know about you and you better believe that if he had found something he didn’t like, you and Ellie wouldn’t be together now.”

  I watched another plume of smoke rise from the cigarette in my hand. Did I believe that? They were discussing Caine and yeah, he was a little overprotective at times. But would he engineer the destruction of a relationship?

  Mac’s voice alerted me to pay attention. “Ellie thinks someone planted a GPS device in something of hers.”

  “And that would have to be someone close to her,” Bob said.

  Mac actually thinks Caine is the killer! I stubbed my cigarette out but remained where I was.

  Mac spoke again, “Tell me for sure it isn’t him, and couldn’t be him.”

  “What I can tell you may raise your suspicions, not allay them,” Bob replied, his voice dropped. I had to strain even more to hear him. “Grafton had a daughter. Fourteen years ago she was murdered.”

  I could almost hear Mac thinking before he spoke, “How do you know?”

  “I remembered the name and wondered if it were the same Grafton, so I dropped into the police department after he called me on Wednesday evening and borrowed the computer.”

  I’d forgotten how good retired cops are at getting information. Caine had a daughter. In eight years he’d never mentioned a daughter or a wife; he’d never mentioned any family. How well did I really know Caine?

  “And Ellie?” Mac asked.

  “Watch him when he’s near her. You’ll see what I see. He adores her, he’s fatherly towards her.”

  Oh, please, he cares about all of us! We’re a tight team and he holds us together.

  “You think he’d kill to protect her?”

  “What father wouldn’t do everything they could to protect someone they considered their child?”

  My head spun. How could they think Caine would kill like this?

  Bile burned in my throat as Mac continued. “He knew six months ago that Carter drugged her. When his name came up, it could have sent him over the edge.”

  Bob stopped Mac. “This is pure assumption, Mac. We have no evidence to make a suspect of Caine. Unless there is a GPS device in some personal object of hers and if that’s the case, anyone she is close to becomes a valid suspect.”

  “The credit cards, Dad, someone accessed her account and made it look as if that’s how the Unsub found us. Caine had access.”

  “Made it look, or did find you that way?” Bob needed clarification.

  “We believed that’s how he found us in Crystal City. We think he was using a key logger, we can’t prove it. The computer that would have had the key logger on it was destroyed in the explosion at Ellie’s home.”

  “We need to know for sure if there is a bug.”

  I sat shivering in the shadows as I considered the conversation. Eavesdropping is never a good idea. Mac was right about three things, and there was a fourth he didn’t yet know. He received a call from Roy, he had access to my credit card account, he had access to everything of mine, and he had access to explosives. “It’s not always as it seems” echoed in the empty recesses and dark shadowy patches of my mind.

  Don’t let the seeds of doubt grow into
a tree, without facts.

  Mac and Bob’s footsteps neared my secluded position. I knew they were about to discover me. There was nothing else for it. I waited to be discovered, damn sure the look on my face would give away my eavesdropping; so be it. What scared me most was that I was giving any credence at all to Mac’s suspicions. I looked up and waited as they came into view.

  “Hi.” I figured that was enough. They both stopped in their tracks. Mac’s expression needed no explanation.

  The only place I could think a bug could be was in my toiletries. That was all that was left. The one item that I thought could be tampered with, which I hadn’t lost over the course of the horror, was my mascara. It’s one of those things – you get one you like and you keep it close. It was also something I carried in my gym bag and, while I was working out, that bag was in the locker room. It wouldn’t be difficult for someone to access my locker.

  Even as the idea forged into existence I didn’t believe it was possible. “Mac, in the bathroom is my black mascara. If there’s a bug, that’s the only place I can think it could be.”

  He disappeared. Next thing I knew Mac had passed the mascara to me.

  I handed the tube to Bob. “Don’t suppose you have a way of verifying this?”

  He appeared thoughtful, “I may do.”

  “Moving that mascara will lead the Unsub to wherever it goes,” I warned.

  Mac interjected, “If it’s bugged.”

  “Yep, but the more I think about it, the more sure I am. He could not find us so readily without some kind of tracking and positioning system.”

  Mac sat on the step beside me.

  I continued, “The devices we use are coded and numbered. Each signal is unique, so there is zero confusion when tracking. All our cars have GPS tracking capability, as do most of our cell phones, laptops and palm pilots.”

  Bob lay his hand on my head. “I have a friend who’s a dentist. His office is close by, he lives behind it.”

  “How fast can you get that x-rayed?”

  “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. He’s just around the corner.”

  “Be careful, we’ll stick with Caine. If it’s him he has no reason to monitor the signal, if it isn’t, you’re in danger.”