On Dangerous Ground

by D. L. Line

  • 71 •

  D.L. Line

  His incarceration at Terre Haute Federal Prison was based on charges relating to an extensive list of cyber crimes. Bradley Allen Davis had been the man to call if you wanted to steal something from someone via the Internet. Questionable shady

  “businessmen” in downtown Detroit had often found his skills in separating someone from his money a better option than physical harm, and Bradley was good at it.

  His nondescript looks drew little attention. There was nothing memorable about his appearance, and he intended to keep it that way. Out of sight, out of mind. He was smart, but according to the Federal Bureau of Prisons, not smart enough to keep his ass out of prison. Well, Bradley knew better, and it was just a matter of time and patience before he could prove it to those stupid fuckers.

  He got up from the makeshift bed and shuffled barefoot into the tiny galley kitchen. His one concession to cooking of any kind was the coffee maker that was constantly bubbling to keep the caffeine flowing to his ever-busy brain. The soul-sucking quacks that claimed to practice medicine at the University Hospital suggested that maybe his headaches were somehow linked to the constant flow of caffeine into his body, but they could all just soundly kiss his ass if they thought he was going to stop for them. They suggested that his threepack-a-day cigarette habit might contribute as well, but that wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, either.

  He contemplated these issues as he shook the coffee grounds from the bag into the filter on the well-worn, formerly white Mr. Coffee next to the sink. Once the water was added and the coffee was started, he flipped open the lid on the box of Marlboros, pulled one free with his teeth, and leaned over the gas burner on his battered stove to spark the butt to life. Dragging heavily on the cigarette, he felt the first morning rush of nicotine and began to shake off his anger at being awakened

  • 72 •

  On DangerOus grOunD

  by the fire engine. Maybe if he could just convince those idiots at the hospital that the headaches had more to do with the daily beatings he received at Terre Haute than any small issues with either caffeine or nicotine, he just might be able to get some relief. The small flow of Percocet from the hospital helped a little. So did the small baggies of marijuana that the skater punk with the weird haircut seemed to never run out of, but Bradley Allen Davis knew resolutely that there was only one true cure for the almost constant pain in his head. Revenge. Find the little bitch who had landed him in prison. Scare the shit out of her. Then end her pathetic existence. Take her life away just like she had taken his. Jennifer Rosenberg—

  her name made his head ache. She would never see it coming. The plan was beautiful—just complicated enough to keep the cops guessing but with a poetic twist that he would be happy to point out to Dr. Rosenberg just before he blew her brains out. Dr. Rosenberg. She had always thought she was smarter than he was, but he would show her and everyone else who had ever underestimated him exactly how smart he was. His plan was foolproof.

  Rosenberg had been difficult to find, but not impossible. She might have been a better hacker than he was, but he could still show her a thing or two. Being the sanctimonious little bitch that she was, she had helped the cops find him rather than risk her ass. The last taste of freedom that he’d been allowed to enjoy before his incarceration was shattered violently as a team of heavily armed FBI agents broke down the door to his apartment, yanked him from the office chair at his state-of-theart computer system, threw him to the floor, and told him that he had the right to remain silent.

  And he’d done exactly that. Remained silent. About his activities and his clients. Unfortunately, his clients were equally silent, especially when it came time to post bail, so

  • 73 •

  D.L. Line

  he didn’t see the proverbial light of day until his release from Terre Haute almost ten years later. Fortunately for him, he knew enough from his own illegal activities to realize that banks were no place to keep your money. The strongbox buried under the shed in his mother’s backyard was his choice for squirreling away large sums of cash. He had spent ten years hoping that no one had found his stash of over a quarter of a million dollars. It had to be enough to get him through the end of his plan. The plan that was already in motion.

  • 74 •

  On DangerOus grOunD

  Chapter eLeven

  Terri stood by the window of her fifth-floor office in the Hoover Building. It was Wednesday, and it was still raining. Washington was depressing in the rain.

  “Have you talked to her yet?” asked Bobby.

  She turned away from the gray and depressing view outside her window to the institutional, fluorescent-lit, equally depressing view inside the window. “I’ve been trying since we heard about Davis. I only get her voicemail, and this is definitely something I don’t want to leave on voicemail.”

  Bobby seated himself at his desk and waved her over.

  “Yeah, I get that. You should deliver this news yourself…or I can always do it if you’re feeling too close.”

  Terri heard exactly what he was driving at, but she had been careful not to get too close. Yes, she liked Jennifer Rosenberg, but in the way that you like someone for their outlook on life or the way they laugh at a joke, not in a personal way, not in a relationship way. She wasn’t going down that road again, regardless of how attractive she found Jen to be.

  “No, I’m fine. Do you have anything new?” She gestured toward the files on his desk and pulled out a crime scene photo.

  “Nope. We’ve got three crimes that, with the exception of

  • 75 •

  D.L. Line

  the random number generator thing, don’t seem to have any other connections. According to NoVaGenEx, the vics weren’t even working on the same project. We have an ex-con who appears to be a model parolee, which means we’ve got squat because we’ve got no one else. There are a half a dozen agents in at least four different cities, doing the same shit that we are, and they’re coming up with exactly the same thing we are, which, by the way, is again squat.” Bobby sounded frustrated.

  “Frankly, I’m not sure what our next move is other than to wait and see what happens. And I know how much you love to wait for things to happen.”

  Terri snorted. “No shit. So now we have to sit and wait for this sick bastard to kill someone else and hope he gives us the magic number. Asshole.” She set down the photo and reached across the desk to pick up the NoVaGenEx file. “Bobby, do you think—”

  “Agent McKinnon? You have a visitor.”

  Terri looked up and saw Jen step out from behind one of the building’s escorts, wave sheepishly, and hold up her visitor badge. She took a deep breath and straightened her jacket.

  “Thanks, Jim.” Terri acknowledged the escort, who turned and left the office. “Hello, Dr. Rosenberg, what can we do for you?” Jen’s smile dimmed a bit and Terri winced inwardly. Bobby stood and motioned Jen over, then offered her his chair. “Here you go. It’s nice to see you again, Dr. Rosenberg. I’ll just go get us some coffee, and you and Terri can talk about what brings you here.”

  Once Bobby was out of earshot, Terri asked, “So, what does bring you here? Is everything all right? I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  Jen fiddled with her visitor badge. “I’m okay. I had to drive up to Herndon for a meeting at NoVaGenEx. I saw that

  • 76 •

  On DangerOus grOunD

  you had called, but you didn’t leave a message. I thought I would come by and see if maybe you’d like to have lunch.”

  Terri felt her chest get tight. She couldn’t help but notice how great Jen looked in her navy blue pinstriped suit. “Um, I don’t know that—”

  A twenty dollar bill appeared over Jen’s head. “Lunch is a great idea,” Bobby said. “I’m swamped here or I’d join you, but bring me something back from the hot dog cart on the corner, would you?”

  v

  Terri silently cursed Bobby during the
elevator ride to the lobby.

  “He’s not nearly as scary as I thought,” said Jen.

  “Who? Bobby?” Terri laughed. “No, he’s just big. He always teases me that I’m the badass cop in this partnership.”

  She felt suddenly shy and needed to look at the floor. What was it about Jennifer Rosenberg that made Terri want to tell her all this stuff?

  “That I’d like to see. You playing bad cop while Agent Big and Intimidating plays good cop. Oh look, it stopped raining.”

  Terri had completely forgotten about the rain. The sky was still leaden and threatening as they walked down the block to the hot dog cart.

  “Is this okay?” she asked. “If he doesn’t get fed every few hours, he gets cranky.”

  Jen laughed at that. Her nose crinkled and one dimple formed on her left cheek. Terri found it hard to pull her attention away from that dimple and its proximity to the turned-up corner of Jen’s mouth.

  • 77 •

  D.L. Line

  “Sure it’s okay,” Jen responded. “I like a hot dog as much as the next gal. Now, are you going to tell me why you called me and didn’t leave a message?”

  Terri placed their order with the street vendor and paid before she said anything else. She debated how to say what she had to say, but in the end, the direct approach seemed best. “I have to tell you I’m really glad you showed up today because I didn’t want to say this over the phone. Davis is out of prison.”

  Jen’s expression quickly changed to a look of abject terror. The smile was gone; the dimple receded, replaced by worry lines and a furrowed brow. “Oh shit,” she breathed. Terri took Jen by the elbow and steered her to a nearby bench. “Listen, that came out worse than I meant it. Yes, he is out of prison, but I spoke with his parole officer. He got out right before Christmas for good behavior. He had been a model prisoner, evidently, and since his crime was nonviolent he earned an early release. While he’s been out, he’s never missed or even been late to see his parole officer, and he’s monitored regularly. He has a job at his apartment complex up there in Ann Arbor. Granted, it isn’t much of a job, but it provides him with a place to live. He sees a doctor regularly, and he’s never missed an appointment.”

  “Doctor?”

  “He has some kind of chronic condition that requires regular medical care. I don’t know what. That’s a doctorpatient confidentiality issue, but the point is his parole officer assured me that he couldn’t be our guy.”

  “Really? He can’t?”

  “No, Jen, I don’t see how. I just wanted to be able to tell you because I was afraid that you’d be worried.”

  “Well, I was worried.” Jen looked really concerned. “Are you sure?”

  • 78 •

  On DangerOus grOunD

  “Yes, we’re sure.” Terri clenched her fists to keep from touching Jen’s hand. Just to comfort her, of course. Jen brightened a little, which made Terri feel unreasonably happy. “Thanks for that.” Jen really did look relieved. “So, what does that mean for you folks? You and Bobby, that is.”

  Terri really hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Well, since there’s no evidence against Davis and no connection between the crimes that we can figure out, the only choice we have right now is to wait.”

  The look on Jen’s face was back to flirty smile. “So, let me ask you this, Agent McKinnon. Are you up for a celebratory dinner? A thank-God-my-computer-overlord-slash-stalker-isnot-out-to-get-me dinner? I mean, this is all good news, right? I’ll be up here for the rest of the week going to meetings in Herndon, but Friday night we could maybe have dinner.”

  “I’d like that.” The words were out of her mouth before Terri could pull them back. It was only dinner, and they did have something to celebrate. After dinner they could both go back to their normal lives. Somehow that was not the most comforting idea.

  v

  Terri returned to her office after walking Jen to the Metro station. She dropped the bag containing Bobby’s hot dogs on his desk.

  “I could have sworn that hot dog cart was on the corner. What did you two do? Go to Anacostia for these?” Bobby asked.

  “No, sorry, we were talking. Do you want me to get you new ones?”

  “Of course not. What’s wrong? You told her about Davis?”

  • 79 •

  D.L. Line

  Terri nodded and sat at her desk. “Yeah, I told her, and really it’s good news. I’m just distracted.”

  “Because you like her and you were worried. Am I right?”

  He was right and she was struggling with feelings that she had no idea how to deal with. Terri was definitely attracted to Jen Rosenberg. She also knew that acting on her attraction would end up being a mistake, but saying no was getting more and more difficult. “Hey, Bobby.” Terri tossed a paper clip across the desk at his head.

  “Ow! What?”

  She leaned closer, whispering across the top of her desk.

  “I don’t want to talk about this here. What’s up tonight? Have you got plans?”

  He thought for a second. “Nothing that the TiVo can’t take care of.”

  “How about if you drive me home and I’ll make you dinner?”

  Bobby checked his watch, then stood and started to pack up his computer. “Sure, sounds great. We could knock off early. We put in overtime last weekend, and since you brought me an inedible lunch, you owe me. Grab your stuff, let’s go.”

  v

  Terri had changed into her sweats and was busy at the counter chopping mushrooms, garlic, and onions for the pasta. Bobby sat on the stool next to the counter playing with the label on his beer. His coat and tie had been discarded and were now hanging on the back of a chair in the breakfast nook. Terri appreciated his patience, knowing it was killing him not to ask her about Jen.

  “You said you needed to talk. What’s up?”

  • 80 •

  On DangerOus grOunD

  She stopped chopping and poked around the pile of mushrooms on the cutting board with the tip of her knife. “I’m not sure what I’m doing.”

  “Looks to me like you’re making little mushrooms out of big ones.”

  Terri laughed softly. “Well, maybe mountains out of molehills. This is new stuff for me.”

  “What, chopping vegetables?”

  She waved the knife at him. “Don’t be a goof. You know damn well I’m not talking about vegetables.”

  Bobby threw his hands up in mock fear of the blade.

  “Easy, killer. Just giving you a little shit. My guess is that Dr. Rosenberg has thrown you for a loop. It was all just fine and dandy as long as she was part of the case because you could put her in a box where you didn’t have to deal with her, but now that it looks like there might not be a case, you have a decision or two to make about the professor. How’s that?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, score one for the big guy.”

  “Oh, and let’s not forget all of the angst and blame that you’re still carrying around about Alyssa.”

  Terri nodded and remained silent. Bobby took a giant swig from his beer and set it on the counter. “Yeah, I thought so. Anyway, let’s start with Dr. Rosenberg. You had lunch with her today and?”

  “And it was really nice. Once we got past the whole Davis is out of prison thing, we just walked and talked. She’s here in meetings until Friday and she asked me to dinner Friday night.”

  “Well, all right, Terri! This is good news.”

  She wished she felt the same way. “I don’t know, Bobby. These things are always so easy for you, but all I can see is potential disaster. We have dinner, we talk, we flirt, and then what? She lives two hours away. She has a completely different

  • 81 •

  D.L. Line

  life, and you know as well as I do that long-term relationships and the Bureau don’t mix.” Bobby started to say something, but Terri stopped him. “And if you say one word about getting laid, I’m going to beat you to death with a spatula.”

  “Noted,” Bob
by answered with a grin. “Terri, you’re going to have to help me out here. You are so far down the road with this and you don’t need to be. Jennifer Rosenberg is a nice gal, a college professor. Can’t you just have dinner with the woman without all this introspective torture?”

  Terri was exasperated at her own inability to figure things out. “Oh, God, Bobby, I don’t know. My life has always been simple. The work stuff and the personal stuff never cross paths—I’ve made sure of that—but now there’s Jen. I mean, we’ve had one lunch. That’s hardly enough to plan a future together, now is it? But I feel like there could be something there. I don’t know.”

  “Well, I’ve heard tales about you lesbians and your U-Hauls.”

  She considered throwing an empty tomato can at him.

  “No U-Haul here, but my track record is not good, and it’s just easier to live without the complication.”

  “Sweetie, your track record is fucked, but it’s not your fault. What happened to Alyssa was terrible, but there was nothing you could do.”

  “I know, Bobby, but come on. This is the first time in, well, since Alyssa died that I’ve actually thought about opening up to someone new. And you know as well as I do that the inside of my head can be a scary place at times.” Bobby nodded. “I just don’t want to scare her off, and despite whatever noise you make to the contrary, I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “So, why did you agree to have dinner with her?”

  She smiled. “Because I like her.”

  “So you like her. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  • 82 •

  On DangerOus grOunD