by Diane Capri
“You said her name was Debora. Girl is a fair description.”
“Actually, you’re right. She’s fresh-faced and looks a lot younger than she is. Girl is a perfect description,” Jess paused. “But who calls a grown woman a ‘girl’ like that? Especially if the woman is unknown? That’s strange, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps.”
“Not only that, Debora Elden seems to have some kind of activist background.”
“That is the sort of thing that usually raises a red flag,” Henry said, slowly. “Might be nothing, but it’s certainly worth following up.”
“It certainly is. Her face appears on a website for a group called Local World Action. One of the pictures shows that whaling boat that got rammed by a dinghy full of explosives.”
Henry whistled. “I remember when that happened, but wasn’t it in the Far East?”
“It was, but still.”
“Is Elden in the same picture?”
“No.”
“Any solid connection?”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “No.”
“I’ll look into it.” Henry paused. “Anyway, how do you know about Debora Elden when Remington’s file doesn’t mention her at all?”
“Cole didn’t volunteer the information to me. I got it from my friend Marcia McAllister and then pressed Cole about her. Not likely he’s going to volunteer the name of anyone he’s dated to some hulking FBI agent who wants to send him to death row. I wish I’d known about Elden’s access card when I was talking to Cole, but he probably wouldn’t tell me anything useful.” Jess swiped both hands through her blonde curls. “But don’t worry, G-man. I’m holding nothing back. Remington knows everything I know. I’m one thousand percent sure he was observing my interview with Cole. Probably recorded the whole thing, if you want to see the brilliant journalist at work.”
Morris grunted. “Sounds like you’ve got no hard evidence yet. I’m beginning to suspect that’s why you called.”
“You’re exactly right. I can look into Cole, Elden, and Winter. But I need help with Marco Benito. Any chance you can check his visa records for me?”
Morris didn’t respond immediately, but Jess heard the clacking of his keyboard. “If he’s Italian and working at a US manufacturing facility, he must have applied for and received a visa. I may be able to get a photograph. But it’ll take some digging.”
“That would really help. An address or other contact information would be helpful, too.”
“I’ll get you what I can.”
“I knew there was a good reason to call you.” She grinned and put the humor into her voice. “I mean, in addition to hearing your dulcet tones.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just try and keep out of trouble, Lois Lane.”
“You too,” she said. “I don’t want to have to come back there and save your ass again.”
They both laughed and talked about personal things for a few minutes before Jess ended the call.
She stared unseeing through the window. She’d never thought about it before, but dulcet did describe his voice. Sweet and soothing. Henry could be all of that.
When he wanted to be.
She dragged herself back to the real world and returned to her computer.
The next search was a lot simpler. Finding Debora Elden in Taboo’s databases took fewer than four seconds. The entry listed an apartment address and two phone numbers.
She leaned closer to her computer screen. Despite Cole’s claim that he didn’t know where Elden lived now, her address was listed and it wasn’t far from the hotel.
Jess tried both phone numbers. The first was disconnected and the second kicked over to voicemail. Debora Elden had an upbeat sounding voice, not artificially high-pitched, but energetic.
Jess hung up without leaving a message.
The Taboo database identified the number as a landline located in Elden’s apartment.
“Why leave the country and keep an apartment with a phone line in Chatham, Iowa?” Jess said aloud to the empty room. “What are you hiding, Elden?”
When no one answered her questions, she ordered room service, including a nice bottle of red wine, and kept working. She had a very long list of questions and a short list of answers.
When her eyes were too scratchy to stare at the screen, she showered and rolled into bed. Early day tomorrow. She had a plan.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Wednesday, August 17
6:30 a.m. CDT
Chatham, Iowa
Jess was dressed by six-thirty the next morning. She grabbed a coffee and bagel as she passed through the hotel lobby on the way to her car.
The air was crisp with a tinge of humidity that made the morning feel cooler than it was.
She had memorized the route to Debora Elden’s apartment the night before. It was hard to reconcile the local address with Cole and Sally’s belief that she had left the country. But if Elden was in Chatham, an early morning visit was the best chance to catch her.
She munched on the bagel and sipped her coffee as she stopped at the traffic lights. The entire trip didn’t take long.
Debora Elden’s apartment complex looked only a few years old. Colonial style buildings with straight lines and dark roof tiles were stacked for three floors. Apartments on the two top floors had small balconies.
Jess parked as close to Elden’s building as she could get. She hustled up the steps to the third floor. On each floor, two apartment entry doors were on either side of a narrow corridor between them.
A man wearing dark clothes and a cap pulled down over his eyes knelt in the corridor in front of an access panel near Elden’s front door.
He looked up at Jess. “Got to turn off the water in the whole building for some maintenance.”
He waved a large screwdriver. “Damn panel won’t open.”
Jess saw tools spilling out of a well-worn canvas tool bag near his feet.
The access door finally sprung open. He grunted, twisted a tap inside the wall, and stood up. He waved to Jess. “You can go ahead.”
Jess nodded. “I’m looking for three-fourteen.”
The man jerked a thumb at the door behind him. “You won’t find anyone home. Don’t know why she bothers paying the rent on the place.”
Jess gave him a card. “Jess Kimball. Taboo Magazine.”
His frown deepened. “I’m Dan.”
Jess flashed her friendliest smile. She pointed to the door to 314. “Do you know her?”
He shrugged. “Only seen her a couple of times. Pretty, though.”
“I thought she’d be home. I’m a little worried about her.” Jess frowned. “I could call 911, but I hate to waste their time if she’s just on vacation or something. Does she live here alone?”
“Never seen anyone else here, so I guess.” Dan looked at Jess as if he was sizing her up and approved. “I need to check she hasn’t got water leaking into her place anyway. Want to come in, make sure she’s not sick or something? Just in case?”
He pulled a big ring of keys from his pocket and turned toward Elden’s apartment. “Step this way.”
The door to apartment 314 opened onto the living and kitchen area. A couple of plates were stacked on the draining rack. The microwave door hung open.
The apartment smelled stale.
The walls and carpet were probably a color called something like oatmeal. The wood trim was painted a matching shade of bland.
The living room furniture consisted of a dark wood table and a checkered light green sofa. A small, flat-screen television was perched on a cardboard box sporting a photo of the china on the kitchen drying rack. Behind the television were a game console and a bundle of wires.
While Dan checked the rooms for water leaks, Jess moved into the kitchen.
The cabinets held several cans of soup and a couple of boxes of cereal. One box had gone out of date last month. She shook it. The box was half full. The fridge contained nothing but three bottles of water and a jar of pickles. The tr
ash can was empty.
She took a few pictures with her phone and moved into the bedroom.
The double bed rested in a frame with no headboard and was neatly made. One bedside table had one lamp perched on it. A small closet without a door housed a selection of four white T-shirts and two pairs of jeans as well as two pant suits, one black, and one navy.
The bedside table had three drawers. Jess checked each one quickly. A jumble of chargers and batteries in the bottom. Underwear in the middle drawer. Sleepwear in the top.
Jess dialed Elden’s phone number. She heard no ringing in the apartment. The call clicked over to voicemail, the same as the night before.
The bathroom had a selection of eco-friendly shampoo and hand lotions in sizes that suggested Elden had collected them in hotels. A bone-dry toothbrush rested on a clean yellow washcloth on the counter.
Hanging on a hook on the back of the door was a white cotton bathrobe, and slung over the top of the robe was a Kelso Products lanyard with a clip at the bottom and no keycard attached. It looked like the ones Jess had noticed several Kelso employees wearing yesterday.
Jess took pictures of the lanyard, bathroom, and bedroom, and returned to the living room.
The game console had two controllers. Jess turned them over. Both had wires that were twisted and knotted. It was the first sign that someone other than Debora Elden might have been here at some point. Alex Cole?
A sheet of paper under the game console revealed a list of words in tiny handwriting. Usernames and passwords for streaming services, probably.
One of the usernames was in small characters that Jess recognized as kanji, a Japanese style of Chinese. Henry’s “Far East” comment about the whaling ship popped into her head.
Dan came out of the kitchen. “Looks like her pipes are good. And she’s not here like we thought.”
Jess snapped a picture of the paper and tucked it back under the console.
“I feel better that we checked, though.” She took one last glance around the room.
“Me, too,” he said.
“I guess I’ll just keep calling until she answers her phone.”
Dan closed the front door.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Wednesday, August 17
7:40 a.m. CDT
Chatham, Iowa
Jess sat in her car and called her assistant, a notoriously early riser. Mandy had probably completed a five-mile run, eaten a full breakfast, and looked like a million bucks already.
She answered almost before the phone rang. “Morning, Jess.”
“Hi, Mandy. I need more help.”
“That’s my job. What can I do?”
Jess smiled. Mandy was always ready for anything. “Our databases have two phone numbers for Debora Elden here in Chatham. Neither one is a cell number. Both landlines. One number is disconnected, and the other keeps switching over to voicemail. There’s an address for the working line, but no phone at that address.”
“So it’s forwarded somewhere. You want me to find out where the call goes?”
“Please. And anything else you can get about the number.”
“I might be able to find an address and when it was redirected, but that’ll be it unless you want me to ask one of our lawyers to get a court order.”
“Skip the court order for now, but put somebody on call in case we need it.” Jess chewed the inside of her lip. “And I need a full profile on Claire Winter, CEO of Kelso Products. Dig up what you can on her past and contacts.”
“Will do. When do you need all this?”
“Guess.”
“Last week.” Mandy offered a good-natured sigh. “Well, I’d better get to work.”
“You’re the best.” Jess hung up to answer an incoming call without checking the caller ID.
“Hi, Jess. It’s Sally Meacham.” The greeting was tentative, hesitant.
“Hi, Sally. What can I do for you?”
Sally paused. “I’m not exactly sure. You said to call if I noticed anything. And, I think, maybe this might qualify?”
Jess nodded slowly. Sally seemed like a woman who needed coaxing. “Okay. Tell me, and we’ll figure it out together.”
“It’s what you said about Alex Cole. Got me thinking. If he’s not the one who bombed the plant, then we’re still in trouble here. More people could be hurt?”
“Unfortunately, I’m afraid that’s true.’
“Agent Remington thinks Alex Cole is the right guy. But what if he’s not?”
“Um hmm,” Jess made reassuring noises, afraid to say the wrong words until she knew where the conversation was going.
“And Debbie Elden? I’ve tried to call her, and she never answers.” Sally’s voice quivered. “I’m really worried about her. She’s a nice girl.”
Jess had no reassurances to offer on that score. “What do you think we should do?”
Sally took a deep breath, and her words rushed out. “Turns out that Debbie Elden’s access card is missing. We keep strict controls on those cards, Jess. I’m sure I collected it from her when she resigned. I’d lose my job if I didn’t follow the procedures. I’m sure I did it here. Absolutely sure.” Her tone was something approaching panic at this point. “But it’s not in the locked drawer in my desk now.”
Jess didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t reply.
“Could this be my fault? Do you think whoever planted that bomb stole Debbie Elden’s card from my office?” Sally choked back a sob. “All those people are dead because of me?”
At that point, Sally broke down completely.
The clock on the dashboard read seven-forty. Jess started the engine and drove through morning rush hour to Kelso Products while she waited for a chance to say something. But that never happened. Sally disconnected the call, and when Jess tried to call back, Sally didn’t pick up.
Cars and trucks flowed into the parking lots. Like workers everywhere, Kelso employees had their routines down cold. Vehicles barely slowed for four-way stops, and there was no quarter given for indecisive newcomers.
Jess followed a woman driving an old Chevrolet truck sporting a bright blue paint job. The truck turned several times and finally parked on the far edge of one of several lots surrounding the Kelso plant. She jumped out of her truck the moment the engine stopped.
Jess parked two spaces away. The flow of people seemed unrelenting as they converged on three tall turnstiles set into an eight-foot-high barbed wire fence.
The turnstiles resembled a medieval torture device.
The clock on her dashboard showed 7:56 a.m. People were rushing to clock in on time, she guessed.
After five minutes, the clock flipped over to 8:01 a.m. and the flow of workers through the turnstiles slowed. A few stragglers ran across the parking lot, and fewer slackers sauntered.
The horizontal metal bars of the turnstile were six-inches apart. Two sets were combined into a single unit. One fixed set of horizontal bars was welded to the entranceway. The other set was divided into thirds. Interleaved like lacing fingers, it rested inside the fixed set and moved like a revolving door.
Each turnstile rotated in thirds. The first rotation locked the person inside the turnstile like a prison. The key card reader came next. Anyone foolish enough to enter the turnstile without a card would be trapped inside and held there until security hauled them away.
The key card was used to release the turnstile’s locking mechanism. After the card reader clicked, the revolving turnstile dumped the employee into the Kelso Products facility. Then the turnstile completed the full rotation empty to wait for the next employee.
Jess tried Sally’s number again.
She answered this time. Her voice sounded congested and teary, still. “I’m sorry, Jess. I can’t…I don’t…”
“Sally, I’m in the employee parking lot outside the turnstiles. Can you duplicate Elden’s keycard? It needs to be exactly like hers. And meet me here with the duplicate? I have an idea.”
“Oh, Jess, I c
an’t do that. I mean, I can duplicate the card. But I can’t see the screen that tells what access Elden had to various areas of the plant. Only the Vice President of Security can see that. I can’t bring the card to you, though. I just can’t.”
“Okay. Then how about I come by the main entrance, and you come out and give me the keycard to try?”
“But—”
Jess took a deep breath. “Look, Sally, I don’t think this is your fault. And I’m trying to help you here. But I can’t do it unless you give me that access card.”
“Well—”
“I’m already on my way. See you in less than two minutes. Just come outside and give me the card. You can go right back inside. I’ll return it to you when I’m done. I promise.” Sally didn’t agree or disagree, so Jess said, “You don’t want to feel guilty about this forever, do you?”
She hiccoughed on the other end of the line. She finally whispered, “Okay.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The handoff went as smoothly as planned. Jess was gone from the employee entrance for less than two full minutes.
When she returned to the turnstiles, Jess watched a few employees run through the process with practiced ease in short order. When it was her turn, she pulled the card from her pocket, nervously stepped into the turnstile, and rotated through the first click.
She waved the keycard in front of the gray box-shaped card reader. The box beeped once, and the turnstile emitted a loud click. She pushed the bars and followed them through as they rotated into the plant.
The reader beeped again behind her. A man barged through and ran toward one of the big buildings.
The roads around the plant were almost deserted. If she stood around, she’d be an obvious target for a visit from security.
She followed the man at a brisk pace.
The man waved his card in front of another gray box to open a side door and disappeared inside.
Jess reached the door a few moments later. She waved her card by the card reader. It emitted a grating double buzz. She tried to turn the knob, but the door remained locked.