by M. L. Harris
“Where are you?”
“In here.”
He walks toward the bedroom door.
“Hey sweetheart, we have the whole evening to ourselves. I was wondering if you had any ideas.”
He reaches the doorway and I am standing next to the bed wearing one of his shirts.
Only the shirt.
It is unbuttoned to my waist.
In the half-light I slip it off my shoulders and with his deep blue eyes he follows it to the floor, smiling widely.
“I guess you do.”
Chapter
10
After the calamity I created on the Valley Freeway a police officer arrived on the scene and finally got Hector Gray to open his car door.
“Are you alright, sir?”
“I’ll live. Just get me the hell out of here.”
He climbed into the squad car and rode to a nearby hospital where a doctor examined him and found that Gray suffered from anxiety, not gunshot wounds. Gray was given pills for calming his nerves and he left.
Back at his house three police officers were on the property and his son had been pulled out of school. Together with his mother he huddled inside the house which now resembled something of a fortress.
The police combed the Valley Freeway in search of evidence but found nothing, except the rifle. Much to their dismay its value as evidence had been destroyed by the heat of the burning coals.
By late morning Detective Emily Gower was ready to speak with Hector Gray. Her car passed through the entrance gate and came to a stop near the front door. She climbed the steps and was about to ring the bell when a woman dressed in a maid’s uniform opened the door.
“Are you here to speak with the Grays?”
“Yes ma’am,” Emily replied.
She followed the maid through the foyer and when they came near the living room a heated argument was going at full blast. After Emily cleared her throat the voices went silent and the Grays turned and saw her.
“Good morning, I’m Detective Emily with the San Jose Police Department.”
Hector Gray waved his hand toward a chair.
“Have a seat.”
Before she could be introduced Mrs. Gray left the room and stood just beyond the doorway, close enough so that she could hear the conversation.
“I’m sorry we’re not meeting under better circumstances,” Emily began. “This must be difficult for you.”
“No shit,” Gray replied as beads of sweat pooled on his forehead. “You’re supposed to protect me. It’s your job, damn it!”
What an ass, Emily was probably thinking.
“Yes sir.”
“Who in the hell did this to me?”
“Mr. Gray, you should know that our resources have been allocated to this case.”
“Great. I feel so much better. Now tell me what you have.”
“No leads so far, nobody saw anything, but it’s early in the investigation. We’ve scoured the area of the ambush with a fine-toothed comb. All we found was a rifle but it has no evidentiary value.”
“Why the hell not?”
“The sniper laid it on a bed of burning coals.”
Gray just stared at his feet and shook his head.
Shit.
“I’m afraid it gets worse. The shooter is highly skilled and both of the shots were very precise.”
“Then why am I sitting here?”
“The bullets hit exactly where the shooter intended. For the shot that blew out your tire adjustments had to be made for the angle and road speed. And the shot that hit the car seat only inches from your heart, several factors had to be taken into account: gravity, humidity, wind speed, and the angle of the bullet after it hit your windshield.”
“So somebody’s trying to send me a message.”
“That’s my conclusion,” Emily replied. “Uh… Mr. Gray, do you have any enemies who’d like to hurt you?”
Gray caught himself before he could laugh in her face. A list of his enemies would be longer than his arm.
“None that I know of,” he mumbled.
“The police officers here are for your protection. I suggest you remain in the house until we can figure this out. It’s our job to keep you safe.”
“Damn right it is.”
Emily leaned in closer.
“There might be an attempt to make contact.”
She noticed a glint in his eyes.
You’ll be the first to know.
Chapter
11
A few hours before the chaos broke out on the freeway Ivan the psycho was driving a panel van into a parking lot in South San Jose, a quiet suburb dotted with single-family homes. It was three in the morning and a cloak of low-lying clouds covered the moon and gave excellent cover.
He opened the rear doors of the van and removed a motorbike.
Dressed in black he slung a backpack over his shoulder, mounted the bike and rode two miles to a wooded area. He covered the bike with a camouflage tarp and covered the remaining distance on foot before reaching his destination.
The home of Kumar Gupta and his girlfriend.
Settled in the midst of a stand of mature trees the redbrick house provided a sense of privacy. Ivan made his way around to the side of the house and stood beside the garage as he picked the lock on the control panel of the security system.
After opening it he held a flashlight between his teeth and examined the wiring layout and comparing it to another he held in his hand: The two were identical.
He connected wires inside the panel to an electronic device which could trick the system into thinking a signal was sent to the security company if a door or window was opened.
With this completed he went around to the back of the house and picked a lock on a French door. Slowly he entered the living room and moved quietly in the darkness toward a bedroom.
Once there he saw Kumar Gupta and his girlfriend, lying in bed.
In the silence, he waited.
Satisfied that both of them were asleep he slipped into the bedroom and removed his gear from a backpack. He held a mask close to the girlfriend’s nose and mouth and watched her chest rise and fall as she inhaled a gas which knocked her out. In a few hours the gas would dissipate and leave no trace.
He walked around the bed where Gupta lay and repeated the procedure. After completing the task he pointed his flashlight at Gupta’s face and pulled the covers to the bottom of the bed. Clicking his finger against a hypodermic needle he spread apart two of Gupta’s toes. He found a vein and pressed the plunger.
When the air bubble reached the heart Gupta began convulsing violently. Ivan held the flashlight beam on his face and watched as he gasped his last breath.
The body lay motionless. The struggle for life over.
Ivan spoke in a low voice.
“Into the pit of Hell you go.”
He packed up his gear and went around to the opposite side of the bed.
The girlfriend lay there in a silk sleep-shirt which barely covered her. She was young and very attractive. Ivan swept his flashlight along her body and became extremely aroused.
Probably some supermodel bitch.
Lingering above her Ivan removed a knife from his pocket.
But then he caught himself and replaced the blade.
The guy who hired me would be pissed.
He stood in the darkness for a long moment.
My work here is done.
Ivan retreated from the house, resetting the alarm and covering his tracks as he went.
Then he disappeared into the night. Like a ghost.
Chapter
12
I am sitting on the porch at the cottage in Saratoga, checking online news sites for updates on Dylan Hunter’s murder. Nothing.
Then I see that a story has broken about another Silicon Valley billionaire, Kumar Gupta. His supermodel girlfriend woke up this morning to find him, stiff as a board, and dead of a massive heart attack. He too was a founder of the int
ernet start-up, DynaTech. I know for a fact that Dylan Hunter was murdered, and now Gupta is dead.
My instinct was correct about bolting.
Although I can’t say that I feel comforted by the fact that I was right. Quite the opposite. Gupta’s death has magnified my fear. And what about Jack… is he safe? Who can protect us? God knows the police can’t in the face of such a monstrous threat. Is this guy a cop killer? Who knows? I have to somehow find the strength to rely on myself.
I check some blogs and the conspiracy theorists are already hard at it. DynaTech is worth billions, and a public offering is in the works.
Could the motive be personal gain?
I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.
Keep trying to solve the problem that confronts you.
I’ll bet Emily isn’t having much luck either. This must be a nightmare for her. I am sure that by now an autopsy has been performed on Hunter.
A burned corpse.
Yeah, good luck with that.
And the scorched limo can hardly be expected to provide any evidence.
I need to know what that weasel Hector Gray knows.
And fast.
Chapter
13
After letting Gray squirm for a while I send him an email. As he sits impatiently at the desk in his study he notices the message and opens it.
FOLLOW THE ATTACHED INSTRUCTIONS TO THE LETTER. ANY DEVIATION WHATSOEVER AND YOU’RE A DEAD MAN.
My attachment to the email gives the location of a package which I hid in the woods near his driveway. He retrieves it.
Inside the large zip-lock bag he finds a type-written note and a cell phone.
He begins reading the note.
NOW THAT I HAVE YOUR UNDIVIDED ATTENTION… YOU WILL HAVE IN YOUR POSSESSION BY MIDNIGHT…
My note goes on to describe the form of payment: half of it is to be in fifty-dollar bills, the other half in hundreds. Old bills with non-sequential serial numbers.
The note continues:
THE ENCLOSED CELL PHONE IS YOUR LIFELINE. IT WILL BE A LINK DURING THE DELIVERY. AT MIDNIGHT, HAVE THE CASH READY AND WAIT TO BE CONTACTED.
During my research (hacking) I discovered that the bulk of Gray’s assets are in a blind trust in the British Virgin Islands. Because the trust is “blind” I can’t determine the actual identity of the account owner.
Not directly, anyway.
The bank account has deposits and withdrawals going to and from other accounts, and one of them has a withdrawal for the purchase of the sedan that was following Jack and Hunter before they crashed on the Valley Parkway.
The only way of knowing for sure that Hector Gray controls the account is to force his hand by getting him to make a large withdrawal.
I’m monitoring the account every fifteen minutes.
After Gray reads my note he looks up and sees his wife standing in front of his desk.
She grabs the note from his hand.
“What’s this?”
The words cut deeply as she reads them. She gets it immediately, having eavesdropped on the conversation between her husband and Emily.
Filled with rage she picks up a book and hurls it at him. As the book hits him on the head he stumbles backward.
“You’re despicable!” she shouts.
He rubs his hand across his forehead.
“Calm down.”
“You got us into this mess and you want me to be calm?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Sure you will. Have you ever once thought about me… about our son? The worst part of this is the fact that you can’t even see what a monster you are. I knew something like this would happen.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”
Her cheeks flush with anger.
“Have you lost your mind? Did you hear what that detective said? Either you pay or you’re a walking dead man. Are you listening to me?”
He keeps up the condescending tone.
“Coming in… loud and clear.”
She walks to the doorway and spins on her heels.
“You’re sleeping in the guest quarters.”
And with that she turns and stomps out.
Bruised and chastised Gray forwards my email to Emily.
Minutes later the phone rings.
“Yes?”
“It’s Detective Gower.”
“I assume you’ve read the note,” he says as he rubs a growing lump on his forehead.
“I have.”
“I’ve decided to pay. My wife is already thinking of ways to kill me.”
“That’s a good decision.”
Gray hits the phones and pulls out all the stops in order to get the cash in time.
Back at the cottage I’m sitting before my laptop and monitoring the offshore account. An hour later my eyes grow wide. There it is: an outbound wire transfer from the bank account. The sum: $3 million.
I jump up from the couch and dance a little jig.
Then I hack into a bank server in San Jose and find a corresponding inbound transfer. The account owner’s name is familiar.
Hector Gray.
Gotcha!
Chapter
14
Zachary Ross looked out a window as early glimmers of sunlight streaked into his office at DynaTech. It would be another hour or so before everyone arrived for work, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He was still trying to process the fact that two of his business partners were dead.
How could this happen?
Somewhere off in the distance a phone was ringing and it jolted him back into the present.
Let the service pick it up.
He decided to make a call.
The phone began ringing at the other end of the line.
He waited.
Three rings… four… five…
Finally a female voice.
“Hi there. It’s a little early isn’t it?”
“I need to see you.”
“I’m not even dressed.”
“Now.”
“Why the rush? Can’t it wait…”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
He breathed a sigh of relief.
The drive over was a blur as his Ferrari literally steered its way there. He found a parking space near an apartment complex which was located a few miles from his office.
Entering the lobby he pushed a button on the directory and as the door buzzed he stepped inside and over to the elevator. When the doors opened on an upper floor he glanced up and down the hallway before tapping on the door of an apartment.
He waited.
Then the door swung open.
Standing before him a striking brunette flashed a radiant smile and white, straight teeth. Locks of dark brown curly hair fell lightly on her shoulders, framing the delicate features of her face.
Her low-cut silk blouse revealed her cleavage and a short skirt clung tightly to her firm backside and shapely legs.
“Hey stranger!” she beamed.
Zachary Ross stepped inside and pressed his mouth firmly against hers as his hands moved quickly below her waist.
She flung her arms around his shoulders.
He pulled back for a better look.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he told her.
“Happy to see me?” she asked playfully.
He grinned and walked over to the sofa.
“How about a drink, Amber?”
“I’ve got a bottle of champagne in the fridge.”
“Perfect.”
She went into the kitchen and opened it.
Coming into the living room she nestled beside him on the sofa with a glass of champagne in each hand. Neither of them knew about it but their conversation was being videotaped by cameras placed discreetly in vents throughout the apartment.
Sitting in his car a block away Ivan was watching and listening to everything.
Amber began stroking Ross with her fingers as her nubile body rubbed against him. His
mind raced with thoughts of stealing away to the tropics with her. At this moment he could think of nothing more appealing.
He adored her.
Amber had grown up on the mean streets of south Los Angeles. Drawn to the excitement and wealth of Silicon Valley, a consulting job put her in touch with a lot of influential men. Ross felt a sense of pride because it was he who had taught her the ropes and hooked Amber up with his connections around town.
She could play the game as well as anybody. But her moral compass had been lost somewhere along the way. The change was gradual (it usually is) but eventually money and status elbowed aside her ethics. Behind her beauty and sensuality lurked a totally different person.
Ruthless. Hard as nails.
Now feeling the champagne Ross began groping her and pawing at her blouse. The bottle was soon emptied and they scampered into the bedroom.
Moments later their clothes were scattered across the floor. On the bed Amber reached down and scooped up his belt and necktie. She used them to tie his wrists to her bedposts. Then she slithered on top of him like a wild animal.
He pleaded with her.
“Take it easy. What are you trying to do, kill me?”
“I can’t think of a better way to go. Can you?”
He tasted her in every place and she performed acts on his wish list, sending him into another spasm.
“The way you use your lips. You’re amazing.”
The fun and games continued into late morning before Ross exhausted himself. Naked, Amber bounced into the kitchen in search of food.
Sitting inside his car down the block Ivan stared at his laptop, leering at Amber’s naked form, depraved fantasies running through his demented mind.
He began imagining the things he would do to her.
When the time comes.
Chapter
15
After ditching the Honda and returning to Berkeley I sneak through the passage and into my townhouse. I’m beginning to feel somewhat safer now that I am back here. However, even though the police are just outside, Kumar Gupta’s death has really shaken me up. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so vulnerable. Drained and exhausted, I collapse on the living room sofa, quickly drifting into sleep.
A couple of hours later, I hear a noise in the kitchen.
Am I dreaming or is this real?