“Not that I could see.”
Emily breathed over the line. “Is Grand okay?”
“Yes. Confused, but okay.” I glanced over my shoulder. Mom still sat in the car.
“Mom, listen, this is real bad. I watched the video.”
“What?”
“The video. I downloaded it from our online backup account.”
No. My chin sank toward my chest. “Emily, I didn’t want you to do that! I don’t want you involved in this.”
“Mom, I make videos all day long, remember? Meanwhile, you’re out there running and hiding and scaring me to death. What did you expect me to do, just hang around and wait to hear from you? I’d go crazy. And it’s a good thing I didn’t.”
I swallowed hard. My brain was too tired to think of what consequences her action might have. And I didn’t like the raw fear in her voice.
“So I watched it over and over—and saw something. At the bottom of the video there’s noise. You probably didn’t see it. Sort of looks like a blurry picture or static on a TV. I brought my computer into work and used our equipment to study it more. Once I could make out the static, I saw it’s a long series of numbers and letters. Looks like an encrypted message.”
I blinked. Not once had I noticed any static on the video.
What to ask first? “Can you break the encryption?”
“No. You need the key.”
“Oh.”
“What if that’s what Morton Leringer was trying to tell you? He gave you the flash drive, right? Maybe he was trying to tell you where to find the key.”
I took a deep breath. My whole body felt weighted. “Maybe. He did try to say some word that started with K or C. Maybe the key’s in Raleigh?”
“Don’t know.”
My eyes closed. If I weren’t so tired, I could think. “So why are these people after me? I have a video that I can’t understand, with encrypted data I can’t read. What threat am I?”
Two new cars pulled into the gas station. I checked out the drivers, then turned away.
“Because they think Morton told you something. If he was killed for trying to stop people from committing some terrorist act, they’d be scared he told you where to find the key before he died. Maybe that key could stop the event.”
Emily’s words clawed through me. “Terrorist act?”
“I Googled a machine like the one in the video. It is a power generator, just like that deputy said. And then I found another video online that’s a lot like this one. Guess what it’s about? It was a CNN report from some years ago on how a power generator could be hacked into by terrorists and blown up. I think these guys who are chasing you are going to do that.”
Oh. Oh. “You mean they want to shut down electricity.” My words dropped like stones. “Why would Leringer be involved in such a thing? I researched him and found all the companies he owns. He looks like a successful businessman, not a terrorist.”
“I don’t think he is a terrorist. I think he found out about this plan—whatever it is—and was killed for it. The words he said to you are about stopping it.”
No wonder Morton had been so insistent. So terrified.
“And I told Harcroft and Wade everything Morton said. Now they want to kill me too.”
Both of those men must be in on it.
My knees went weak. My mother and I were caught up in some heinous terrorist plot? Those people would as soon kill you as look at you if you got in their way.
Which was exactly what they’d tried to do.
“Mom, something else. I should have told you before, but I was pretty much in shock. No one at the sheriff’s department had to tell anyone that you made a copy of the video. Those people could figure that out on their own. All they’d have to do is look at the properties of the file and see the date and time it was created.”
What? My mind reeled more. Why hadn’t I thought of that?
“So you should go to the police right now. You don’t have to be scared of them. You have a lot of reasons to be scared of the other guys. Besides, Wade and Harcroft need to know all this. If someone’s planning a terrorist act, they have to stop it.”
I shook my head. “Emily, they have the same video you have. In fact, they’ve got the original. If you could figure out it holds an encrypted message, don’t you think they could too? They must have shown it to their techs right away.”
And if the Half Moon Bay sheriff’s substation thought a terrorist act was about to occur, they wouldn’t sit on that information. Wouldn’t they call the FBI or somebody?
“Yeah,” Emily said. “They might know. If they have the software to study it.”
I hung on the phone, feeling sick. Split in two. I so wanted to believe I could go to the police right now and entrust myself and Mom into their protection. We wouldn’t have to run. They’d put Mom and me somewhere until they caught these guys. But . . .
“Mom?”
“I’m here.”
“Go to the police. Now.”
I licked my lips. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Why?”
How to explain the feeling in my gut? I thought over everything that had happened. How from the very beginning Harcroft had seemed suspicious when I insisted Leringer hadn’t said anything to me. How soon the fake FBI agents had shown up my house. How soon Samuelson had returned after I’d told Wade and Harcroft everything.
“Mom, talk to me!”
For the next few minutes, I tried to explain. “And think about it. Those fake FBI agents could have killed me and your grandmother when they first came to the house. But they didn’t. They tried to kill me after I’d met with Harcroft and Wade. After I’d told those two men everything Morton said.”
“Mom, you really think some sheriff’s deputy—”
“I don’t know, Emily. That’s just it. I don’t know. So—what if I go to the authorities? And what if Wade or Harcroft are working with the terrorists? Isn’t that what terrorists try to do—recruit insiders? How perfect would that be.”
“And what if they’re not? And you keep running, with no protection, and those guys find you?” Emily’s voice bent upward. “You and Grand are both dead!”
My heart thrashed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
“Go to the police, that’s what!”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Once that’s done, there’s no going back. I think I should just return to the hotel for now. For an hour or two. Let me think this through.”
Behind me a car door opened. I turned to see Mom getting out. I lowered the phone to my shoulder. “Mom, stay there.”
She pushed to her feet.
“Please, Mom! I’ll just be a minute.”
She walked toward me, leaving her door open, the car’s inside light shining. Might as well send a message to our pursuers: Here we are!
“Is she okay?” Emily’s voice.
“I want to talk to my granddaughter.” Mom approached, hand out for the receiver. My pulse beat in my throat. If I fought her, she could have a meltdown. She was tired enough. I could not risk her screams attracting attention from the customers getting gas. I thrust the phone into her hand. “Do it quickly, we have to go.”
Mom took the phone in her gnarled fingers. Pressed the black plastic to her white head. “Emily?”
“Hi, Grand.” I could just make out Emily’s words. “You okay?”
“Awful tired. We’re running, you know. From the Bad People. They want to hurt Morton’s daughter in Raleigh. We have to get to her first and warn her. But it sure is tiring.”
“Oh. Well, you do everything Mom tells you, okay? She knows what she’s doing.”
Yeah. Right.
I glanced around the station’s parking area, then across the street. One car pulled away from a pump; another one pulled in behind. And here
we stood, with our lit-up car. Who talked on pay phones anymore? Didn’t we look out of place, just using the thing?
“Okay.” Mom’s voice wavered. “How are you, sweetie? You found a new boyfriend yet?”
I winced.
“No, Grand. I’m gonna take my time on this one.”
“Problem is, you’re just too good for all the men out there. They can’t hold a candle to you.”
“Thanks.”
Mom sighed. Such exhaustion in that sound. “I need to go now. We’ll talk again soon.”
“Okay. Love you.”
Mom handed the phone back to me, satisfied. I couldn’t help but snatch it from her fingers. “Go sit in the car, please. And close the door so the light won’t be on.”
Amazingly, she obeyed.
The line clicked. An automated voice told me to put in more money. I blew out a breath in frustration, then rummaged for the coins and shoved them in. “Emily, hello?”
“I’m here. Mom! Go to the police!”
“I have to think about this first. If Harcroft or Wade is working with these terrorists, and I ask the police for protection—I’m dead. You understand that? The first thing the police will do is contact those two men. This is their case. I have to be sure.”
Emily sighed. “Well, think it through in a hurry, okay?”
She still didn’t get it. But how could I expect her to? She hadn’t seen what I had.
The February chill bit through my coat. My head throbbed, and the unfamiliar phone in my sweaty hand spun a feeling of abandonment through me.
How in the world had I gotten to this place?
“Mom, you hear me?”
“Yes. I’ll call you again in a few hours.”
“Please be careful. I’m so scared.”
“I will. I love you.”
I hung up the phone, the sudden break in connection with my daughter slicing through me. As I started the car seconds later I fought the overwhelming terror that I would never speak to her again.
Chapter 17
Five-thirty a.m.—and Roz had still not shown up. And he wasn’t answering his cell phone. Stone had spent the last half-hour pacing, swearing, and kicking the furniture. Why had he sent anyone else to that woman’s house? He should have done the job himself. Except that he’d needed to be on the phone to other FreeNow members scattered across the country. Now that they were below the twenty-four-hour mark, no one in the organization was sleeping.
His cell rang. Stone snatched it up and saw Tex’s ID. Some time ago he’d contacted Tex—“Agent Rutger”—and told him to look for Roz. “Yeah?”
“He’s disappeared. No sign of him anywhere. Or his car.”
Stone’s fingers fisted. Another traitor among them. What if there were more?
“Get’s worse,” Tex said.
What could be worse at this point? “Yeah?”
“There are no bodies at Hannah Shire’s house.”
Stone let that sink in. “Maybe he got rid of them.”
“No time. Police got a shots-fired call. They were there fast.”
“What? Why didn’t he use a silencer?”
“I don’t know. He has one.”
Stone tipped his shaved head toward the ceiling. Shots fired—and no bodies? “Where are the women?”
“Disappeared too. They took off in her car.”
Stone’s heart jolted. He put a hand to his temple. This could not be happening. “They got away?”
“Looks like it.”
Stone sat down hard on his couch. Roz had sounded strange when he called. Like he was having trouble breathing. Had Hannah Shire shot him with her own weapon? That would explain the neighbors hearing it.
What kind of woman was this?
“Police found blood drops in the house,” Tex said. “Good news is, local cops don’t have a clue what’s going on.”
She must have shot Roz. Stone dropped his chin. That was a major loss. Roz and Tex were Stone’s own recruits, allowed to work directly beneath him. Those kinds of men were hard to find, needing that certain balance of deep discontent and a thrumming drive to fill their souls with purpose. Roz was older, more mature. But Tex was intelligent as well as burning loyal.
What happened? How had Roz let the two women escape?
Whatever the case, Hannah Shire and her mother were alive.
Stone thought back to Roz’s phone call. Talk about lies. The man had to know even then he wasn’t coming in. He’d better run like a desert jackrabbit. No place on this earth could hide him now. FreeNow traitors all met the same end.
Stone cursed. “I don’t want to think what could happen if those women know too much and go to the wrong people.”
Meanwhile the clock ticked.
“Let me go after them,” Tex said. “We should have killed them right away. I won’t let them get away this time.”
Stone grunted. Tex had already killed Nooley for the man’s failure to get the video back and silence Leringer in time. Tex had shown no hesitation at the order. But to one hundred percent redeem himself, he needed to fix his own mistake.
“I’m sure you won’t let them get away again.” Stone kept his voice low. “You got twelve hours to track them down and beat out of them everything they know. Then kill them. And Tex?”
“Yeah?”
“Fail me, and you’re dead.”
Chapter 18
Emily’s coworkers began arriving at the TriPoint Marketing offices around 8:00. She paid little attention. Since her mother’s phone call she’d been researching Morton Leringer. Like her mom said, Leringer owned a lot of businesses under his umbrella corporation. But what was his connection to Raleigh? She couldn’t find anything on that. And she didn’t see anything that made him sound like a terrorist. Why would he want to hurt the country that had made him so rich?
Her muscles were like rocks, and her hand all cramped from holding the mouse too hard. Every minute that passed made her more worried about her mom and Grand. Were they safe at the hotel? Was somebody in the sheriff’s department really out to get them?
Emily heard people greeting each other, making coffee.
A big-shot like Leringer would make news if he was murdered. Emily searched CNN.com for the story. A video with a frozen picture of Morton Leringer on a stage caught her eye. It had been posted a few hours ago. She clicked Play. Leringer began to move, his audio turned off. Emily stared at the man her mother had tried to help.
“Morton Leringer, owner and CEO of ML Corporation,” said the voice-over, “died in the emergency room of a Moss Beach, California hospital yesterday as a result of a stab wound. The coroner has ruled the manner of death as homicide. Police later searched his nearby home in Half Moon Bay, on the Pacific coast below San Francisco, and discovered a second victim—Nathan Eddington, age forty-eight. Eddington was an employee of StarrCom, a Bay-Area-based security company owned by ML Corporation.”
Emily leaned forward, mouth open. The video showed a body bag being carried out through a huge front door and down porch steps.
“The homicides are being investigated by the San Mateo County Sheriff’s Coastside Patrol Bureau, which serves over sixty percent of the county, including Half Moon Bay. The Moss Beach Substation is the largest law enforcement facility on the coast, staffed with twenty-seven full-time deputy sheriffs, four sergeants, and one lieutenant. So far the substation has not asked for outside help with its investigation. And they are speaking little to the media, saying only that they are following leads.”
The video ended. Emily stared at her monitor, thoughts whirling. StarrCom. A security company.
What kind of security?
Hunched over the keyboard, she searched for the company’s website and jumped to the home page.
“StarrCom Security,” read the header. “Keeping the World Safe.” Em
ily leaned back in her chair, gaze fixed on her desk. Had Nathan Eddington, through the company’s own security, discovered a terrorist plot to take out power stations?
Whoever was behind this had killed two people already. And they’d tried to kill two more.
Where were Mom and Grand?
“Hey, Emily!”
She jumped. A long, lean face grinned down at her from above her cubicle wall. Dave Raines, her mentor.
“Whoa.” Dave raised his Groucho Marx eyebrows. “Too much coffee already?”
Emily shook her head.
Dave eyed her. “What’s up?”
She hesitated. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Depends on how much you pay me.”
“I need you to look at a video. Just lasts a minute.” She thought she may have seen more pixelation toward the beginning but couldn’t be sure.
“Okay.”
“But on your computer. You’ve got better software.”
“Let’s go.” Dave gestured with his head.
“Thanks. Let me copy it to a flash drive first.”
“All right.” Her mentor disappeared.
Emily copied the file, then snatched up the piece of paper on which she’d written the long sequence of numbers and letters from the video. She hurried into Dave’s office.
“There’s noise at the end,” she told him as he put in the flash drive. “Looks like an encrypted message. I wrote down the sequence.”
“What? Who’s your client, the CIA?”
“Not a client.”
He eyed her.
“But now I’m wondering if there’s something at the beginning. Just a little flash. I can’t enhance it enough to tell.”
“Okay. Let’s see what we got.” Dave pressed the Play arrow.
Emily leaned over his shoulder and watched with him. “There’s no audio.”
As it started, Dave stiffened. He leaned closer, watching closely. At the end he gave her a hard look. “You have any idea what this is?”
She looked away. How much to tell him? “Maybe a power generator?”
“It is a power generator. A very sick one.”
“How do you know?”
Dark Justice Page 11