“It isn’t matches. He dumps the gas right there in the back storage area and then takes out his own lighter. Good thing the sprinkler system kicked in.”
“And the silent alarm alerted the fire department.” Reese replayed the video for another scan to view it from the beginning when Collin had first appeared at the back door. “Look at that, he comes in and goes directly to the counter. And right here, he’s still looking around for something…wait a minute, see that right there. What is that he takes out of his pocket?”
Dylan leaned over Reese and tapped in a few keys to enlarge the image. “Is that a candle?”
“There’s no gas at the Book & Bean is there?”
Jake shook his head. “Nope. Kit does all the baking at the house, off-site. No oven here except for a microwave.”
“Remember St. John said Quinn’s apartment exploded because they unhooked the gas connection to the dryer.”
“That’s what he’s looking for then, a gas source, stupid asshole.”
“And look here. Something spooks him. He throws the candle down into the gasoline and takes off like a shot out the back door.”
“Maybe Cade,” Dylan surmised. “But then he’s smart enough not to get within camera range. Waiting in the car, maybe?”
“I don’t think it was Cade that spooked him. My guess is this was a rogue act by Collin and not sanctioned by his brother,” Reese stated. “See right here, he gets flustered when he discovers there’s no source of gas like at Quinn’s, doesn’t know what to do next. Check out the panicked look on his face, right here.” Reese stopped the video. They all stared at the screen.
Clearly puzzled, Jake asked. “Why do you think he went rogue?”
“Because Cade isn’t this stupid to hit where there’s a surveillance camera at the back door. Collin, on the other hand, is stupid times two.”
“No argument there but if Cade wasn’t with him…who alerted him, scared him off?”
“Had to be Mr. X,” Dylan surmised.
“I don’t think so.”
Jake eyed Reese. “If you know something, now would be a good time to spit it out.”
“There was a part of that e-mail I didn’t share with…everyone.” He spared a quick glance over in Quinn’s direction as she continued to help Kit and Baylee clean up the back area of the store where the fire had done most of the damage to the wooden oak flooring. At the moment, she was busy mopping up water from the floor from the sprinkler system.
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “He pointed us in the direction of Connor for Claire’s murder, right?”
Jake nodded. “At the time I thought he was yanking my chain.”
“He got it wrong. We know that now since Max has DNA pointing to either Collin or Cade.”
“Go on.”
“Before he ever got started on this whole process, he did considerable legwork on his own, checked out all of the people associated with Alana and Jessica—in detail.” He studied Jake’s face. “Yeah, that includes everything about Kit. But when he found out about the abuse after Alana was gone, he reevaluated things where she was concerned, considerably.”
“You aren’t making me feel warm and fuzzy about the guy, Reese.”
“Hold on, hear me out. He might have moved on past Kit, but not so with Jessica’s branch of the family tree or with Frank’s or Eva’s for that matter.
“It seems he came up with some interesting findings. He discovered the cousins share a weakness for cocaine and partying, along with a penchant for prostitutes. He suspects Cade of killing several call girls, strangling them. He sent me a list of women who worked as escorts and have since gone missing.”
“Let me get this straight. Mr. X sent you a list of call girls Cade is supposed to have killed? Okay, I’m feeling a whole lot skeptical here, Reese. Not saying he isn’t capable but…”
“He’s capable. Cade tried to strangle Quinn. She told me about the incident that happened in college and said if it hadn’t been for Adam Gatz showing up when he did, she’s convinced Cade would have killed her that night.”
“But what does that have to do with who spooked Collin?” Dylan posed.
“I’m getting to it. Cade’s got a temper, right? I’ve seen it firsthand. And after talking to Quinn, knowing what he did to her in the heat of the moment, it’s easy to see him going a step further and killing defenseless women. These call girls put themselves in a vulnerable position. A man like Cade’s going to push his advantage. And there isn’t a damn one of us that doesn’t suspect he blew up Quinn’s building, right?
“Let’s consider Collin for a minute. He’s not the brightest. The most you can say about Collin is he’s a follower, a dipshit absolutely, but is he a serial killer?
“Which brings us to their cousins? What do we really know about Adam and Jacob Gatz, or Taylor, Scott, and Garrett Geller for that matter?”
A stupefied Jake asked, “Where are you going with this, Reese?”
“Mr. X was wrong about Connor killing Claire, right? What if Cade’s good for killing these hookers but with a caveat? What if Cade had help?”
“That still doesn’t tell me who you think spooked Collin,” Dylan pointed out.
“Think outside the box. Don’t focus on the obvious. Cade and Collin have gone off the deep end before and Collin is easy to manipulate. But Collin’s the obvious accomplice, too obvious.”
“You think Cade is getting help from a cousin, the cousin gets a pass because we’re focused on Collin. That’s a leap, even for a skeptic like you, Reese.”
“There might be two killers involved, that’s all I’m saying. Cade being one of them and the cousin, whichever one it is, either is part of the actually killings or simply helps dispose of the bodies. Either way, he covers it up for the Type A, more aggressive personality, which would be Cade. Think about it. Cade’s already fingered as the guy who blew up Quinn’s building. He’s killed before, no question about that. What if this partner in crime is someone other than Collin? I think our Mr. X isn’t infallible, brilliant in some areas, sure, but not without errors in logic.”
“You think one of the cousins helped Cade kill these call girls and Claire?”
“Cade could have killed Claire by himself. But the hookers? Anyone of the cousins could have helped him with those. Since Cade doesn’t like to get his own hands dirty he would most likely want help disposing of the bodies. I say we dig into the lives of the other cousins.”
At that moment, Quinn meandered over to the monitor they were supposed to be watching. Reese deftly changed direction from serial killer back to the subject at hand. “Watch this, see; it looks like it was definitely Collin who started the fire.”
Jake and Dylan exchanged knowing glances. But it was Jake who led the charge to conceal their previous discussion even further. “We’ll turn the tape over to St. John, of course, give him more fuel for his case against Collin.”
“Collin’s such an idiot if he thinks he can waltz in here and do this to one of us.” She placed a brief kiss on Reese’s cheek before moving on to help Kit get set up for the morning rush.
Dylan wiggled his eyes up and down. “So, you and Quinn hooked up, huh?”
“Yeah, Surfer Boy, we’ll pass you a note about it in study hall, how’s that?”
“Wise ass,” Dylan muttered. “Maybe I should mention to her how you suck at personal relationships.”
“Yeah? Like you know so much about having anything but a one-night stand? At least I have a track record for going out multiple times with the same woman.”
Jake ignored the same kind of banter he’d heard between these two for years. “Guys, could we focus here?” Once he was certain Quinn was out of earshot, he picked up the cousin theory again where they’d left off. “Let’s say Cade’s the killer of the call girls, how in the world does Mr. X know about these missing escorts?”
“Legwork maybe? Look, I don’t know. He pointed you in the right direction in Claire’s murder. He just pinpointed t
he wrong brother or cousin. And Cade’s a bully, in personal relationships, in court, in all aspects of his life. I’m thinking our Mr. X dug around enough to find out some very disturbing things about the Boyd, Geller, and Gatz family tree.”
Dylan agreed, “Connor was a bully, might be they all are. How do you know he isn’t the one who murdered these call girls?”
“I don’t. That’s the point here, guys. Up to this point we’ve pretty much been led around by the nose, pointed in the direction people wanted us to go. I say it’s time we did some digging of our own, get solid answers on our own. Get off our asses and get involved in this thing for real, put an end to it.”
“I want Collin and Cade to do time, lots of time,” Jake agreed.
“Same here. Go on the offensive. Then we need to find some evidence, turn it over to the cops,” Dylan reasoned. “Now you’re talking. We cut them off at the knees by taking away their funds, Operation Neuter, and then get down to finding out what these guys are really like on our own terms, hit ’em where they hurt.”
Pleased that his friends were on board, Reese stated matter-of-factly, “Then what are we waiting for?”
Once the three men had a united goal, they set out to put the plan in motion.
It was decided someone needed to go undercover that very day.
For the rest of the morning, Dylan devised the best possible way to get inside BBG&G. At his laptop, it didn’t take longer than fifteen minutes to breach the firm’s simple firewall to their network.
Stupid amateurs, Dylan decided, used the most common passwords. Simple passwords were like wrapped Christmas presents sitting around under the tree, waiting for a determined hacker to discover and use them to his advantage.
Once in, he read individual emails, both personal and work-related, from most of the key employees and their staff.
Since he needed to pay a visit to the firm’s computer room, see for himself the inner workings of the place, he looked for a reason that would get him inside the building without a lot of fanfare.
He found it when an administrative assistant mentioned to her boss that one of the copiers required maintenance. The company providing repairs was a major supplier who had long ago ordained uniforms obsolete and insisted their field personnel wear basic white dress shirts with ties and black dress pants.
It was a ridiculous notion to think repairing a copier required such formal attire, but then who was Dylan to argue? Those articles of clothing were readily available. Now, all he had to do was come up with an official-looking ID bearing the company logo.
By three-thirty that afternoon, Dylan had donned his disguise. His blond ponytail had been dyed a raven black and left loose, the locks feathering his shoulders. The horn-rimmed glasses he wore had him looking more like Johnny Depp’s brother than a copier repairman.
But hey, if he could rebuild an engine in a ’68 Camaro he ought to be able to fix a simple printer.
After presenting his fake ID with the name John Frazier to the security guard on the first floor, he stood at the downstairs reception area waiting to be led up to the tenth floor and the malfunctioning machine. When a cute, plump thirty-something brunette appeared named Donna Fontaine, Dylan put the innate Burke charm to the test.
On the ride up in the elevator Dylan flirted and discovered a bubbly Italian who liked to cook and go to the movies. He used his film buff knowledge to fluster the admin so much he had her laughing at his movie quotes and trivia. By the time they stepped off into another upscale, spacious reception area, he decided Donna seemed more than willing to hand over the key to the executive washroom. He had only to ask.
Good thing he didn’t really need Donna’s generosity.
He’d planned his foray into the camp of the enemy in late afternoon for a reason. It was a known fact most of L.A.’s work force began their mass exodus home between three-thirty and four o’clock to avoid the inevitable traffic jams.
He could only hope that was true for the dedicated workers here.
After Donna showed him to the copy room and somewhat reluctantly left him alone, it took him less than five minutes to locate the paper jam, another five to oil the drum, and the other time—to look busy.
Sure enough, in a matter of thirty minutes, employees started to abandon their cubicles and drift toward the elevators. After Donna’s floor grew silent as a tomb, he found the break room, treated himself to a soft drink and candy bar before setting out to locate the computer room.
It took him forty minutes, but five floors down he breezed into the firm’s version of his own beloved Command Central, courtesy of Donna’s pilfered security card, which he intended to leave conveniently under her office chair as if she’d simply inadvertently dropped the piece of plastic before heading home.
Command Central stood blessedly deserted.
Sitting down at the nearest work station, Dylan, aka John Frazier, went to work. Priority one was finding a place to tap into the mainframe where his wireless device wouldn’t get noticed.
It took him a few minutes to scout the area before he found the perfect place to conceal the existence of his router. The modem would relay all information to another designated remote server he’d already set up for just that purpose.
In less than an hour he was done with the installation.
Once he left the building, he found an ideal place to hide the repeater which amplified the signal from three blocks away, which in turn relayed the data to the remote server and would allow them twenty-four-seven access to anything on the firm’s mainframe.
After he finished the work, he took out his cell to let Jake know everything from his end was a go.
Back at Crandall House, Jake went to work concentrating on everything the database had to offer. He discovered financial records he could readily tap into inside the vast Boyd, Geller, and Gatz personal portfolios, which included their bank accounts, stocks and bonds, and all of their property holdings, both foreign and domestic.
For now, any hidden assets he found he intended to keep separate from the so-called legitimate monies he discovered. Separating the illegal stream of money from the genuine clients became almost impossible. Almost. He had to give it to good ol’ Jessica and Sumner’s talent for evasion, though. They’d done a decent job of masking which was which.
While his friends took care of their part, Reese zeroed in on everything personal he could find about Cade, Collin and all the cousins, which included Garrett, Scott, and Taylor Geller as well as Adam and Jacob Gatz.
Since Trevor had been kind enough to supply every single one of their passwords to their social networking sites, it wasn’t that difficult to ascertain what they were up to via the Internet.
He soon had an idea of what all seven men did in their downtime.
It wasn’t a pretty picture.
While Reese spent time searching Cade’s online persona, Cade Boyd returned the favor by finding out everything he could about Reese. Like Reese, Cade might not have been a hacker, but he could utilize a search engine.
To Cade’s way of thinking, just because the guy had graduated top of his class didn’t mean shit. He couldn’t stand the way the guy acted all Perry Mason in a courtroom anyway. And now that Quinn was with him he’d find a way to take them both down—down into the gutter where they both belonged.
For years revenge had stewed in his gut. For all the wrongs he’d put up with, he intended to make both of them pay—with their lives.
It didn’t take Quinn long to suspect something was up. As soon as Jake had returned with Kit from the Book & Bean, he’d closeted himself away in his study. From the other side of a closed door, she could hear his fingers furiously tapping computer keys.
Dylan had been gone for hours. He’d disappeared by claiming a work emergency had come up and he needed to handle it before things got thorny.
Quinn wasn’t buying it.
Because Reese had taken refuge in his room as well, she headed that way, prepared to wage a war if necessar
y. When faced with another closed door, this time Quinn knocked once but didn’t wait for an answer before she turned the knob and barreled inside.
Reese sat at yet another laptop, pounding away. She sauntered into the room, crossed her arms over her chest. “Hmm, isn’t it interesting how you guys have all gone to ground at the same time?”
“Work,” Reese grunted as he barely looked up from his screen.
“Uh huh. Where’d Dylan go then?”
“A work thing came up.”
“Uh huh. Reese Brennan, what are you up to? What are you all up to? I saw the way you guys were huddled and whispering this morning at the bookstore, changed the subject whenever we members of the weaker sex got within five feet. You think you’re so clever but you aren’t fooling anyone.”
He managed to grunt again before she made her way behind him and his laptop. At the last possible second, he snapped down the lid.
His eyes cruised up her long legs, the length of her body, until he got to her face.
He made a grab for her waist.
“You’re here ’cause you want me. Admit it, Tyler. You want to finish what we started at three a.m. this morning and couldn’t wait for night.” He nibbled and grazed along her jaw before pulling her down to his lap. His hand rubbed a circle on her lower back before he started playing with a hard pebbled point under her top.
She itched to raise the lid up and see what he’d been doing. But his mouth and fingers made her consider other possibilities. “You’re deep in thought there, distracted even. Are you sure you can bring your A game, Reese?”
“You’re joking, right? You mean you can’t feel my A game? I must not be doing it right then.” He put some emphasis into rearranging her butt across his lower half, where he was stone hard. “I want inside you.”
At that moment, Kit poked her head into the room, cleared her throat. “Oops, sorry to interrupt, but Dylan’s back and there’s some heated discussion downstairs about Operation Neuter.” Kit narrowed her eyes in disgust. “Which apparently was put into motion without input from all of us.”
Ending Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 3) Page 12