by DiAnn Mills
“I’m furious that I was used by a man who now has vital information and also attempted to kill me along with all those others at the airport. And I have no clue who wired fifty grand into my bank account or why. Sort of obvious that it’s Murford, don’t you think?” Her voice rose. She no longer cared what the SSA thought of her.
“He murdered my best friend. He kidnapped her daughter. He destroyed my condo. Did I mention he suggested we put the condo in my name until after we were married? He and his thugs tried to kill the only person who believes me. And I haven’t begun to express how I feel about Joe West’s bullet-ridden home.” She told herself to control her fury, but it didn’t register in her mind’s data bank.
“I’d never seen the wounded man you brought in today. The only ones I recognized were George Breckon and Phillip Murford.” She leaned in closer, noting his red face. “I’ve offered to help, and you know my reputation. Time’s wasting while you’re talking to me as though I’m a criminal. I was a victim along with many others at the airport, and I’ve been a victim ever since.”
Not a trace of emotion crossed his face. “Calm down, Miss Young. You’ve made your point. Are you saying you have no guilt in any of this?”
Taryn pressed her lips together. “I disabled Nehemiah after expressing concerns to Ethan Formier, who is now dead. We were convinced of a security breach. He was in the process of confirming the proof. Prior to his leaving for Mexico, I inserted a backdoor program. No one knew this, not even Ethan.” How many times did she need to repeat these things? “I overpowered a police officer in the hospital, and I let myself into a church because the last person out apparently hadn’t locked the rear door. I used their bathroom, phone, and computer. Oh, I ate an apple and a spoonful of sunflower butter, but you’ll find a ten on the kitchen counter.”
He studied her for several moments, long ones, while Taryn thought back through what she’d said. Not one word would she apologize for.
“Miss Young,” he said with quiet firmness, “when the case is finished, you will either be spending the rest of your life in prison, or I will personally recruit you for the FBI.”
Her pulse slowed a fraction. “I can accept your conclusion.”
Faint admiration met her. “I think we want the same things—Murford and whoever he’s working for in custody, the software secured, answers to yesterday’s bombing, and Zoey Levin found unharmed.”
“You know my skill level.”
He seemed to weigh her words. “We know your abilities. All right. You take orders from me, and you don’t leave the office without my permission or an escort.”
She nodded. He still wasn’t convinced of her sincerity. “Where do I begin?”
“Once we’re finished with our interview, I’m having a strategy meeting. My request is to first look for additional footage at Murford’s condo and then secure information about Ethan Formier. We’re attempting to obtain data from his computer at Gated Labs, but it will take time to crack the password. Our people are tracing the fifty grand from Singapore.”
The SSA swung his attention to Grayson. “Finding Taryn Young’s phone is top priority. The export terminal in Kitimat is launching LNG on Friday morning at the same time as TX-LNG in Corpus—regardless of not having the new software enabled and depending on the older version. Both companies plan to follow through unless given a substantial reason otherwise.”
“Those companies want to be the first to export LNG,” Taryn said. “It’s a race to hit the history books. They won’t halt the export unless you stop them. I want to help you find the evidence you need.”
2:00 P.M. TUESDAY
Grayson had showered at the FBI office and changed clothes, thankful he had an extra set for times like these. The FBI’s nurse had taken a look at his wound and deemed Joe’s patch job satisfactory. He’d gotten another BlackBerry, so he was in business again.
Taryn looked better since she’d cleaned up, but the bruises matched the dark circles under her eyes. One of the female agents, Laurel Evertson, a cryptologist who’d been in Grayson’s class at Quantico, did a Kohl’s run for her. Laurel searched through hundreds of messages, looking for a coded link to the bombing and the source of the bank transfer to Singapore. Another class member, Thatcher Graves, who specialized in homicide, processed Claire Levin’s murder. Food had been brought in for everyone working around the clock. Even Joe had a phone and computer with his contractor status.
Then there was Buddy, the ultrathin wonder dog, who’d been housed in the auto shop. Wouldn’t hurt if someone gave him a bath and flea dip. And a big meal.
The shoe print obtained at Taryn’s condo matched the ones Jose Pedraza wore when he was wounded and arrested earlier. He’d been treated and questioned but could provide little substantial information. He claimed Murford hired him to do a job, and the money paid the bills. Pedraza was holding back, and Grayson intended to get some answers.
He stole another glimpse at Taryn. She blinked, and he imagined she felt the same sand and grit in her eyes. She must have sensed his attention because she focused on him.
“What’s going on?” she said.
Caught, Grayson. Staring at her only invited trouble.
“I found nothing regarding Murford’s condo but his coming and going,” she said when he didn’t immediately answer. “He knew where the cameras were located and avoided them. So did Breckon. I think the rest of it could be viewed by another analyst so I can work on Ethan’s password. But not all bad news. I uncovered footage of Breckon picking up food orders at other restaurants.”
He rose from his chair and bent over her shoulder. “What do you have?” He started to call her Sunset, because that’s what her hair reminded him of. Solve the case, Grayson. Then talk to her. Two days ago, he didn’t know she existed. How random.
She showed him Breckon entering and exiting restaurants with carryout. “Look at these with Breckon and Murford. According to the time stamp, these restaurants were frequented before I met them.”
“Anyone else with them?”
She frowned. “A woman. I have her back. Nothing here indicates her facial features.”
“Show me.”
Taryn brought up the video. A tall woman. Long, dark hair. Slender. “I’d hoped Kinsley Stevens or Haden Rollins would’ve appeared.”
“Send me what you have, and we’ll see if facial recognition can do anything with it.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Haden and Kinsley might’ve been more interested in Kinsley taking over the role of team leader than sabotaging the software.” She closed her eyes. “I have to be careful I don’t let exhaustion cloud my thinking and accuse innocent people.” She sent the security camera information to Grayson so he could channel it up the chain of command.
“I want you to meet another agent, Thatcher Graves. He works in the violent crime squad, assigned to Claire’s case.”
“Okay. Maybe I can help, or does he already have all the information I gave you?”
“He does. If you remember something else, you can always approach him.”
Grayson touched the small of her back and walked her to Thatcher’s cubicle. He introduced the two.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Young,” Thatcher said. “I’m sorry about your friend.” His dark eyes showed his concern.
“Thank you.” She paled at a photo of Claire’s body on his desk. “Do you have anything new?”
He turned the pic over. “Nothing more than you already know. Soon we’ll have an arrest.”
Taryn nodded. “I hope to aid in that process.”
Grayson and Taryn returned to her desk. She slid into the chair, her shoulders slumped. “I’m concerned about Ethan’s widow,” she said. “A dear lady who supported Ethan.”
“Agents interviewed her. She said he’d been in a hurry to get home from Mexico City. Told her he’d learned about disturbing issues at Gated Labs. Said heads would roll on Monday afternoon.”
“Mrs. Formier had no reason to fa
bricate anything.”
As Grayson had thought, Taryn had no new information about the widow to help them. “Mrs. Formier expressed concern about you.”
“I’m not surprised.” Taryn glanced at her fingers, still poised over the keyboard.
“You need sleep,” Grayson said. “Are you taking the pain meds?”
“Not the prescription ones. I’m using Tylenol. Anyway, I’ll rest after I make progress on accessing Ethan’s files.”
“We’ll have Special Agent Laurel Evertson give you a hand with that.”
Grayson’s BlackBerry rang. The SSA. “Yes, sir. We’ll be right there.” He disconnected the call. “This should be interesting.”
“Does it include me?”
“Yes, and Joe.”
“What’s going on?”
“Brad Patterson is here.”
CHAPTER 26
2:35 P.M. TUESDAY
Taryn mentally listed her priorities, and cowering to Brad Patterson missed the list. She had no intention of giving him any information until she had her hands on her iPhone.
When they found Murford, they’d find Zoey and be able to arrest the one who bombed the airport. She’d cooperate with the FBI, but not with a man who was loyal to Kinsley Stevens and wherever her ambitious greed had taken her.
She noted the men around the table—Supervisory Special Agent Alan Preston, Grayson, Joe, and Brad Patterson.
“Mr. Patterson has serious concerns about your disabling Nehemiah,” the SSA said. “He claims the two companies that were using the software paid for a firewall protection program they cannot use. Obviously there are safety concerns in regulating temperature and pressure should a breach occur.”
“The reputation of Gated Labs is at stake.” Patterson’s face resembled granite.
“They are running an earlier version and are protected,” Taryn said. “I called them on Friday and enabled it to keep their infrastructure safe. When the FBI’s investigation is complete, I’ll gladly re-enable the software. Until then, the exposure is minimal.”
Patterson raised his fist. “I want it done now or I’m filing charges.”
“Go for it,” she said. “Won’t change my resolve.”
“This will be a civil discussion, Mr. Patterson,” the SSA said. “No threats or accusations, but an open discussion. National security, as well as your private interests, is at stake here.”
Patterson kept his gaze focused on Taryn. “Why are you taking this ridiculous stand? Don’t you know our customers are holding payment for services rendered in light of your actions?”
“Because Ethan and I suspected someone within Gated Labs was sabotaging the project.”
“Who?”
“I’m researching the matter. I think the person or persons could lead the FBI to whoever bombed the airport.”
“That’s ludicrous. Every employee must pass a rigid security screening,” Patterson said.
“Remember I developed the software for the screening, and I’ve never betrayed Gated Labs or revealed information, no matter how insignificant.”
“You expect me to believe you? I’ve heard other reports about your inappropriate conduct.”
She could guess who’d offered the inside scoop. “Have you opened Ethan’s computer files for his research?”
When Patterson didn’t comment, she knew the answer. Ethan had layers of protection in place, and it wouldn’t be a simple matter to retrieve his files. If she gave in to Patterson’s demands without removing the backdoor, then . . . “You understand what it means if the software gets into the wrong hands?”
Patterson huffed. “That’s what your paycheck and expertise covered.”
She focused on the SSA. “I’m against this, sir. Complying with Mr. Patterson’s request is like feeding into the bomber’s hand. I understand if you don’t see a connection, but I believe it’s there somewhere.”
“You’re lying. Miss Young, you’re fired.”
“Check your e-mail, Mr. Patterson. I sent you my resignation an hour ago.” He probably had his niece on speed dial to take her place.
“I guarantee you won’t ever work in the software industry again.” Patterson whipped his attention to the SSA. His face was a sharp red contrast to his social facade. “How long until the matter is settled? I have assets to protect.”
“The process will take as long as it takes,” the SSA said—the man who would arrest or recruit her. “Agents will follow you to your office to continue their investigation.”
“Is Taryn Young in custody or is she assisting the FBI?”
“The answer to your question hasn’t been determined. In any event, she needs rest and medical attention.”
“I have a dead VP and a developer who refuses to cooperate. I need answers soon or—”
“Bad idea to threaten us,” the SSA said. “The FBI is in the business of solving horrendous crimes. We thrive on community support and what is best for the safety and well-being of the public. I’d think you’d want this resolved as efficiently as possible. The airport bombing was a message that we read as possibly more problems to come. We’re considering Nehemiah as part of the issue, and none of us want additional lives and property destroyed. Or do you?”
Patterson crossed his arms over his chest. “My lawyer will be notified of this. If we’re finished, I have work to do.”
“So do we. I’d like Kinsley Stevens and Haden Rollins brought in for subsequent interviews.”
Patterson stood and pounded his fist on the table. “How dare you implicate them simply because of Young’s professional rivalry. They were previously questioned by Agents Hall and Bradshaw.”
“Sit down, Mr. Patterson. Dramatics don’t work here either,” the SSA said. “I don’t take orders from you.”
“Fine.” Patterson eased into his chair. “Investigate everyone at Gated Labs.”
The SSA gave him an emotionless stare, the same given to Taryn earlier. “We will. Thank you for your time.”
Once Patterson was escorted from the room, Taryn swung her gaze to Grayson. His eyes emitted respect, and he grinned ever so slightly. Her stomach did a flip, and the response frightened her. Not now. Not in the middle of this mess. Maybe never.
“I have a suggestion.” She directed her words at the SSA. “I’m sure you already have a list of prominent hackers, legal and illegal, but I’d like to give you my list of top people in that field. See if any of them are involved. If Murford is serious enough to kill for the software, then he might have engaged help.”
“I thought hackers were protective of their own.”
“They are. But this involves national security.”
“All right. We can compare lists.”
“I could contact a few to see if anyone’s looking for a hacker and offer my services as bait.” Taryn had to do something to stay busy. Without bidding, her mind drifted to the explosion and the carnage at the airport and the hideous moans of the injured and dying.
Claire.
Zoey.
All because of a software program designed to secure oil and gas companies’ rights to export natural gas? A program she’d disabled.
The world can be so ugly.
She sat upright in the hard chair. All this time, she’d been committed to protecting the Nehemiah Project. Now that she thought about it, the move was selfish. Kinsley and Haden wanted her job. Big deal. Had her stubbornness to be at the top in her field and her loyalty to Ethan gotten in the way?
What about the LNG companies? Since they were using an older version, hackers could access it more easily . . . and the companies had a historic launch on Friday. Shouldn’t she enable the software and at least do her share to keep lives and property safe?
She knew the answer. In the eyes of the world, she was a terrorist.
No more people would be hurt because of her.
Moistening her lips, she stared at the SSA. “Sir, I’ve decided it’s in the best interests of everyone for me to enable the Nehemiah Project
. Do I have your permission to call Brad Patterson?”
3:24 P.M. TUESDAY
After Taryn had successfully installed Nehemiah and left the SSA’s office to compile a list of hackers, Grayson sat alone with Alan Preston.
“Sir, we have a mole,” Grayson said, broaching a subject sensitive to everyone at Houston’s headquarters.
The SSA pushed back from his desk. “I already know who you suspect. You two have never gotten along.” He frowned. “This had better be substantial.”
“It is. When I left the office to meet with Taryn, I didn’t tell anyone but you. Vince asked where I was going, and I said an errand. But first I had to check on something in the FIG. I left him standing in my doorway with my phone on the desk. When I returned, it had been moved. I didn’t think much about it then.”
“You’re sure?”
“I always note where I place things. Someone knew exactly where Taryn had gone. That’s a given. But someone followed me.”
“Are you saying it was Vince?”
“I checked the records, and he left here shortly after I did.”
“That’s not enough unless you have more.”
Grayson nodded. “When my car was retrieved, I asked the agent to bring me my phone. Found a bug.” Grayson pulled the small device from his pocket and laid it on the SSA’s desk. “It’s one of ours.”
The SSA examined it. “He’s at the top of our list.”
“Are you tailing him?”
He didn’t blink. “What do you think?”
Grayson had heard a few wild tales in the FBI, but this one crept across his mind like a parasite. Now he had more reasons to despise the guy. “What clued you in?”
“His bank account.” Preston shuffled papers on his desk. “You weren’t the only agent to suspect a mole in this case. Vince was nowhere around when we received the call about your going rogue. The voice was disguised.”