Data Capture

by Jesse J. Thoma

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Holt dodged George’s sippy cup for what felt like the hundredth time and tried to find a slightly less dangerous position. That mostly involved repositioning George on her lap in the glider so his swings had less access to her face.

  “You going to drink any of that, buddy?” she asked him. He looked noncommittal. “Shall we get back to our story? I’m dying to find out what happens to this little truck on his big adventure.”

  George geared up to throw the sippy, but Holt caught it before he could launch.

  “Nice try, little man.”

  Holt shifted him again, this time so he was in one arm, against her side. She held the book with the other and began the story again.

  “Momo,” George said, patting her chest.

  “That’s right, I’m Momo. Where’s George?”

  He pointed to himself and laughed the big goofy baby laugh that melted her heart every time she heard it.

  George had come up with Momo on his own. They were pretty sure it was his baby attempt at saying “mama” and “Holt” that had gotten mashed together. It seemed to have imprinted on Holt and now she was Momo. She loved it.

  He snuggled into Holt’s side and held onto one of her fingers. She read two more stories, the adventurous truck and one about barn animals, before she settled him in his crib and kissed him good night. He was close to sleep but would probably spend a little time amusing himself before finally drifting off. He usually needed some time to process the day. Holt was thankful he was able to almost always do it on his own.

  How long until he’s old enough to be scared by the danger I bring to his life? What happens if I’m not enough someday to keep him safe?

  Holt pulled the door closed to George’s room and saw the light on in the master bedroom. That meant Isabelle was home early, which was a welcome surprise.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” Holt said when she saw Isabelle. She walked over, helped her unzip her dress, and pulled it over her head. She wrapped her arms around Isabelle’s waist from behind and pulled her close. She nuzzled her neck. Isabelle held all the cards in their relationship, but Holt didn’t mind. She was the keeper of all of Holt’s innermost gooey, emotional bits, and all she had to do was give a little squeeze and all of Holt’s messy feelings would come spilling out. But Holt trusted she never would. She cared for her so gently when she needed it. Her thoughts at the moment strayed in a different direction the moment Isabelle’s dress hit the floor.

  “Even your considerable charms and good looks aren’t getting you out of cooking me dinner,” Isabelle said, batting Holt away playfully. “Now go stand a safe distance over there while I change.”

  “What fun is that?”

  “None at all,” Isabelle said. “But I’m hungry and I want to hear about your afternoon. It won’t kill you to wait.”

  “Hmph. George is down. Changing his diaper is starting to become my workout for the day. The kid is full of wiggle.”

  “He is your son. It would be weird if he weren’t active and strong.”

  “It’s true. I don’t like having my diaper changed either,” Holt said. “How was your meeting tonight? Who were you meeting, again?”

  Holt followed Isabelle downstairs and into the kitchen. She pulled things out of the fridge and set them on the counter. It was her night to cook and she had half a plan. She surveyed what she’d pulled out. Sure. I can do this.

  “I met one of my former colleagues for coffee,” Isabelle said. There was something in Isabelle’s voice that gave Holt pause. Isabelle was nervous about something.

  “Oh, shit, you’re leaving me,” Holt said.

  “What?” Isabelle looked horrified. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Holt said. She didn’t question Isabelle’s love for her. “You’re leaving the crew. Are you not happy there anymore? God, how did I not see that?”

  “Baby, slow down a minute.” Isabelle came over and took the knife out of Holt’s hand. She set it on the counter and took Holt’s face in her hands. “I love working with you and the rest of the crew. More than I thought I would. That’s why I’ve stayed so long. But we both knew it probably wasn’t forever. The guy I met with tonight is a forensic accountant. I wanted to get more information from him about what he does. I’m not interested in going back to being a CPA. But talking to Quinn has reminded me that I was on a different career path when we got together, and like Quinn, I really liked what I did. So I’m just rethinking where I want to go with it.”

  “I’ve ruined you,” Holt said. She felt better. She hadn’t missed Isabelle hiding professional misery from her.

  “Completely,” Isabelle said. She pulled Holt down and kissed her. Holt let her deepen the kiss before pulling away.

  “Hey, you had your chance. I’m cooking here.”

  Isabelle swatted her on the ass as she wandered back to her side of the kitchen island.

  “So, how was the meeting?”

  “Pretty great. He does cases involving money laundering, tax, and securities fraud. He’s hoping to expand into forensic analytics and some higher stakes cases. It sounds like a lot of what we do now, just not restricted to your cases.”

  “So we could still work together,” Holt said. “Except I’d have to pay you.”

  “When you put it that way it sounds weird,” Isabelle said. “But I could see a scenario where you were an important client, yes.”

  “Well, as long as I was an important client. I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.”

  Holt thought about Isabelle setting off on her own. She hated the idea personally, since she would see less of her. She loved driving to work together every day, but professionally, this seemed like a great thing for Isabelle. She didn’t think there was anything Isabelle couldn’t do.

  “Wait a minute,” Holt said. She replayed something Isabelle had said. “You said forensic analytics. You can’t take Max.”

  Isabelle tried what Holt was sure she thought was an innocent expression. “I wasn’t even thinking about it. But now that you brought it up, she would be really helpful. Joint custody?”

  “No. And you can’t poach anyone else either.”

  “Can we ask her and she can decide?” Isabelle was needling her and clearly enjoying it.

  Holt was happy to play along. “Absolutely not. Everyone in that building would choose you over me. I would end up with stacks of paperwork and, if I was lucky, one of the new kids.” She shuddered at the thought. They were good, but still raw.

  “Okay, we can talk about Max later. If it happens. I’m still thinking about it. I wanted to talk to you first, but I should have known you would figure out something was up. I forget what a good detective you are.”

  “I know you. It has nothing to do with detective work,” Holt said. “Whatever you decide, I support you. I’ll help any way I can. If you want to stay and I can make changes to give you your dream job, tell me. If you want to set up your own shop, tell me how I can help you make that happen and we’ll do it.”

  “Thank you. Don’t go buying any buildings for me unless I ask you to,” Isabelle said.

  She gave a warning look. Holt knew that look. It could make army generals fall in line.

  “I know you like to help, but if I set up shop, it’s going to take some time. Now tell me why you, Moose, and Lola flew out of the office so fast earlier and didn’t come back for hours.”

  “Ugh. It appears the CMCs are the gift that keeps on giving. Quinn hit her panic button. Two guys tried to snatch her out of Jose’s shop. She actually did a pretty good job of fighting them off herself. Lola went and picked her up and Moose and I tailed the guys back to a hotel room downtown. They were the sloppiest…whatever the hell they were…I’ve ever seen. Anyway, we knocked on their door and had a little chat. I think Moose made one of them wet himself.”

  “Is Quinn okay? Isabelle asked. “Were they CMC guys? I don’t mean to tell you how to do yo
ur job, but isn’t it time for you to find these bastards already and stop all this nonsense?”

  Holt knew Isabelle didn’t really think she was slacking off, but not being able to stop these attacks on her family and crew was frustrating. More than that. They made her furious. “I’m trying, babe. These guys swore they weren’t CMCs and they aren’t in our known network, but that doesn’t prove anything. They said they were here on a business trip,” Holt said. “We didn’t get a lot out of them, to be honest. They gave us their names, said they were in Jose’s shop because their rental car was making a funny noise and they wanted him to take a look. Moose leaned on them pretty hard. We turned them over to the cops even though I’m sure they’re already out. It looks like attempted kidnapping from our end, but they could explain it away with a half decent lie.”

  “That’s awful,” Isabelle said. “You didn’t get anything useful?”

  “Max helped herself to their phone data when I paired mine with theirs. They’re chatty with the mayor’s guy, the same one Malcolm talks to. We spent the rest of the afternoon retracing their steps since they arrived. One of them had an app on his phone that tracked all their mileage by GPS. It was like he was going to put in for reimbursement.”

  “Please tell me they were here from Cleveland sightseeing.”

  Isabelle’s voice was calm, but her face was tense. Holt knew this case was wearing on her as well.

  “LA. And the only sights they visited were the loft, our house, Amy’s place, the office, and Ellen’s house. There were pictures of everything on their phones too. I’ll spare you the details of how the next fifteen minutes of that conversation went since I know you don’t like hearing about it. Moose kept me from crossing any lines. I haven’t lost my cool like that in a while.” Holt clenched her fists thinking about finding pictures of her house in those men’s possession.

  “I can understand why,” Isabelle said. “The thought scares me and I didn’t see it without warning.”

  “They’re collecting data. Learning more about us, looking for a weakness in our network. I don’t know. But I know the extra man hours I’ve had everyone putting in to keep our family safe is looking pretty damned good. I’m tempted to double the crew keeping an eye on everyone.”

  “That will just wear everyone out,” Isabelle said. “I didn’t see Lola’s bike when I got home. Are they still here? Quinn must have been terrified being in that situation. I’m glad you three got to her so quickly.”

  “Don’t think they ever came here,” Holt said. “Pretty sure they went to Lola’s loft.”

  “All she has is an armchair.” Isabelle said. “Not exactly homey.” Isabelle looked like she thought Lola should know better.

  Holt thought it adorable how outraged Isabelle was that Lola would even consider bringing Quinn to the loft in its current state. She understood Lola’s reasoning. It was a secure location, and even without much furniture, it was comfortable. Besides, Holt was sure they wouldn’t mind sharing the chair.

  “What happens if we’re attacked?” Isabelle asked. “Quinn asked and I didn’t know.”

  “I protect you,” Holt said. That would always be true. The thought of an attack left her in a cold sweat, but she would walk into a hail of bullets to keep Isabelle safe.

  “As comforting as that is,” Isabelle said, “you’re not bulletproof, despite your insistence that you are. What if the guys that attacked your truck had come to the office instead? What if they had friends?”

  “Do you trust me?” Holt asked. She thought about all the safety plans, defense strategies, and contingencies they had for the office, her house, the loft, and every other building she or her crew lived or worked in.

  “Of course I do, love.”

  “Then trust I have plans A to Z to keep everyone safe. Some I like more than others, but I’ll use any or all if I need to. If it makes you feel better, I’ll spell them all out for you. But let me finish dinner. We’ll probably need a full stomach.”

  “I know the plans for our house, and I knew about the loft. I’m never alone in the office. Your crew all knows A to Z, right?”

  “Everyone,” Holt said. She hoped they never needed to use any of them.

  “Then I don’t know that hearing how you’ve planned for an invasion will actually make me feel better,” Isabelle said. “But I’m glad you have.”

  “Hazard of the job.”

  As they fell into a comfortable silence, Holt finished cooking and thought about plans A to Z. It was plan Z she worried about. Any scenario that required that response would be close to a personal hell. She thought about the hidden gun safe in her office. Only a few of her employees even knew it was there, although everyone knew the general outline to Plan Z even if they didn’t know it involved weapons. She’d installed and loaded it as an extreme backup to a worst-case scenario. That was why only a few knew it existed. She didn’t want anyone who worked for her thinking they should reach for a weapon to solve any problem. She’d had bombs delivered to her doorstep and been shot, attacked, and threatened multiple times. Not once had she considered opening the safe. She hoped the resolution to the current tension wouldn’t break that streak.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Lola stood next to Holt, arms crossed, as they both stared at Max’s screen in the conference room. Lola found Quinn’s method of listing information they knew helpful, so she’d written it all down on paper. Holt had transferred it to the computer. Lola didn’t know how to operate the damn thing.

  As they’d worked, they’d begun to speculate and hypothesize. The mayor was involved, they were pretty certain of that, even without iron-clad proof, but they still needed a way to tie him up and deliver him to Sam.

  “Is there anything in his financials we can use?” Lola asked. She pointed at the tablet Holt was holding. She knew it held the information she was asking about even if she didn’t understand how to retrieve it.

  “Nothing jumped out,” Holt said. “Max said she was being extra careful given that he’s a sitting mayor. His campaign funds are locked up tighter than she expected. But if she invites herself in, even if we find something, it’s no use to Sam. She needs something she can use to get a warrant.”

  Holt looked frustrated. Lola understood.

  “I prefer detective work to skulking around the Internets anyway,” Lola said.

  “To recap, we know the mayor won the election by pounding the law and order drum. The CMCs rose to prominence and scared people enough to be susceptible to that message. He also promised to revitalize downtrodden neighborhoods. Now that he’s in office, violence is down and businesses are moving into previously ignored areas. There was also an allegation of campaign financial misdeeds,” Holt said. She ticked things off on her fingers as she listed them.

  “What was the ten million used for?” Lola asked. “The CMCs said they had it. Are they paying for new businesses to come in?”

  “Maybe,” Holt said. “But it doesn’t seem like Malcolm has the clout to be that kind of power player. He’d have to really be making that money work for him, and it seems like someone would have talked. I doubt many of these new businesses are dirty. More likely the mayor is encouraging them in some small ways to set up shop in CMC territory. Tax breaks maybe, or small business loans. The promise of added police presence.” She walked over and leaned against the conference table, looking tired.

  “So he bought a private army for ten million dollars and let them invest it to keep paying themselves? Where’s he getting money for those other improvements you’re talking about? Is he still stealing from his campaign?” Lola asked.

  “That’s a good question. The campaign funds are still there. Max checked. Let’s call Sam. I have a question for her.”

  While Lola waited for Sam to answer she poked her head out of the conference room and looked for Quinn. She’d always thought it was a little funny how often Holt made transparent excuses to seek out Isabelle during the day, but she would stop teasing her. It had been a
couple of hours and she missed Quinn.

  “She went with Isabelle and Jessica back to the house,” Dubs said from her desk. “They have their guard dogs with them.”

  “Why didn’t she come say good-bye?” Lola was disappointed she didn’t get at least a quick kiss.

  “Turns out, I’m not the doorman here,” Dubs said. “But did you check your phone? I think I heard her say something about texting you.”

  Lola pulled out her phone. There were two texts from Quinn.

  “You and Holt looked hard at work. We didn’t want to interrupt. Going to Isabelle’s with a full entourage so I’m safe. I love you.”

  The second one let her know they made it safely. Lola wrote back that she loved her. It was all she could manage to hunt and peck on the tiny screen before Holt called her back to the conference room.

  Sam was larger than life projected on the wall on Skype. Holt and Sam were already talking shop.

  “Just the woman I wanted to talk to,” Sam said. “I’ve been digging into the mayor like you suggested, but I’ve had to be careful. He’s a slimy bastard. I didn’t like him before all this. If what you said about my department having unfriendly eyes and ears is true, I’m feeling a little exposed. The threatening phone calls and emails are giving me the impression I should wrap this up too.”

  “Jesus, Sam. Be careful. The CMCs are insane and won’t hesitate to come after you. Do you want me to come out to LA?” Holt asked, dead serious.

  Sam laughed. “And just what would you do out here, kid? I’m the police chief of the Los Angeles Police Department. You’re a preschool badass who would what, be my bodyguard? You’ve got enough on your plate out there. But thank you for the offer.”

  Lola looked at Holt, expecting her to explode. She didn’t think anyone had ever spoken to her that way, not that she’d seen. Instead, Holt threw her head back and laughed along with Sam.

  “How about I handle my business, you take care of yours, and no one gets dead?” Holt asked.