Seconds to Live

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Seconds to Live Page 13

by Susan Sleeman


  There was no easy way to say this, so Sean just went for it. “I’ll need you and your staff to leave the office. I’ll bring in ERT to process the scene, and then we’ll secure the place. After we’ve finished gathering evidence and completed our evaluation, I’ll turn the office back over to you.”

  Inman gave a tight nod. “I’ll contact my staff and make sure they know they’re not welcome here at the moment. Let me give you my cell number so you can call me the minute you finish.”

  He rattled off the digits, and Sean typed them into his phone. Inman gave Taylor a sharp look and exited. Sean glanced at her, and she was watching her boss walk away. She looked shocked. Maybe hurt. Maybe questioning what was to become of her office and her boss.

  Sean faced her. “I’m sorry—”

  “You promised . . . I trusted you, and then you do this? Unbelievable.” She spun and stalked off.

  Sean understood how she felt. He’d been betrayed enough times to get it. She wanted nothing to do with him right now, and he suspected she might never want to see him again, but the witnesses were counting on him to do his job. Even if doing it meant hurting this very special woman when that was the last thing he ever wanted to happen.

  CHAPTER 14

  ANGER BUBBLED UP, darkening everything within Taylor’s view. The feeling strangled her, but she didn’t know how to let it go. One thing was certain. She couldn’t stand to be close to Sean at the moment, so she crossed the room to her desk. While she wanted to tear through her files to see if anything was missing, she couldn’t touch a single item without Sean’s permission. And she wasn’t about to ask him for anything. Besides, he was deep in discussion with his team as if nothing had happened.

  Why had she trusted him? Believed he was different than the deceitful witnesses she dealt with every day? A man of his word?

  The group suddenly split up and strode her way with a gait that reminded her of movie heroes walking in slow motion. Their hair blowing back. Their strides powerful. Determination etched in already strong faces.

  Were they coming to help her or throw her out like Inman?

  She curled her fingers, letting the nails bite into her palms, and waited. Kiley and Mack passed her by, heading for the server room. Mack paused to offer a comforting smile and give her hand a quick squeeze.

  Sean stopped next to her, his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands on his hips, looking strong and in charge, just as she expected. His expression was another story, though. Apologetic and sincere. And the eyes—she’d only just discovered she enjoyed looking into them—met hers. “I really am sorry about Inman. I know I made a promise, but once we found out about the videos being overwritten, I had to take over. You can see that, right? To protect everyone here except the dirty deputy.”

  She appreciated his effort to make up, but she was still mad and needed to process it before relenting. “I get it, but you could’ve taken him aside. Discussed it. Not taken over and tossed him out in front of the others.”

  Sean cringed. “You’re right. I could have been more diplomatic. But when I saw the look in your eyes when you first discovered the mess in here . . .” He paused and shook his head. “I lost sight of everything but finding the jerk who tore this place apart and put that look on your face.”

  He cared about her, that was obvious. But his efforts were misplaced. “You really think you did this for me?”

  “I do.”

  “Then you don’t know me as well as I expected, or you would’ve known that I care about Inman and all my coworkers. That I would never want them to be hurt this way.”

  “What can I do to make it right?” He looked around the room as if searching for an answer. “I can apologize to him.”

  “That’s a start.” But I need more. What was the question that even she didn’t know the answer to?

  “I’ll call him right after I get ERT and an agent out here to relieve Glover.” He pulled out his phone.

  Right. He was moving on. Getting down to business. She would follow his lead. “And what do you want me to do?”

  He looked up from his screen. “Since I can’t have you touch anything until after ERT finishes processing the place, there’s nothing to be done here. Kiley’s in charge of the technical files, and I’ve put Mack in charge of the physical investigation. That frees me up so we can go interview the bus driver.”

  “Sounds good,” she said, and meant it. She really wanted to leave the vandalized office behind.

  “Hang tight. I’ll be ready in a flash.” He let out a huge breath.

  Did he think because she was talking to him that she’d forgiven him? Should she forgive him? He did seem truly sorry. Like before, she could understand that he had to take charge, even if his method of handling the situation still stung. But she couldn’t so quickly let go of the fact that he didn’t live up to his promise.

  He soon finished his calls and smiled as he motioned for her to leave. She couldn’t summon up a return smile, but instead made her way through the office.

  “What happened in there?” Roger held out the clipboard so they could sign out. “Why did Inman bolt like that?”

  She scribbled her name and passed the clipboard to Sean. She started to explain to Roger about Inman being sent home when Sean gave her a warning look as he signed the log. Though she wanted to tell Roger everything, she couldn’t share even one detail. She waved her hand like it was no big deal. “We can talk about it tonight back at the safe house, okay?”

  Roger nodded, pressed his lips together, and took a long look at her.

  “See you tonight,” she said quickly, then hurried for the elevator before he asked more questions.

  Taylor didn’t like being in this position with a friend, but her loyalties needed to be with the RED team right now. She didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize their hunt for Phantom and securing the witnesses’ safety.

  Sean caught up to her, and the elevator ride was filled with tension, as was the drive through town. At the bus stop, she nearly bolted from the vehicle into the biting wind. Misty rain started to fall, and she huddled into her jacket. To distract herself, she got out her phone to take a few pictures of the trees glistening with rain.

  Sean retrieved cash from his wallet for the tickets. She gladly let him pay, searching around the area for the perfect picture. Five additional people waited for the bus in the drizzle, their attention fixed in a daily commuter’s glaze. A few had lifted their hoods against the rain, but no one held an umbrella. It might rain nearly every day from October through June in the Portland area, but it was often light, and Portlanders were known for shunning the use of umbrellas.

  Sean bent his head away from the falling rain. “I don’t know the last time I was on a bus.”

  Okay, fine. He wanted to engage in small talk. Probably better than the pain-filled silence that had lingered after she’d said goodbye to Roger. “I often take MAX—the light rail—when I go downtown for events. Never buses. But come to think of it, I don’t know the last time I took MAX to anything.”

  “Job get in the way?”

  She nodded.

  “Me too. Even if we weren’t both avoiding dating, we might be destined to live life alone.” He chuckled.

  She didn’t like the sound of that. Not at all. Sure, she didn’t want to date, but she’d never really considered the long-term consequences of her decision. Not really anyway. Was she destined to spend her life alone?

  “Looks like I stepped in it again,” he said. “You clearly don’t think that was funny.”

  “It’s one thing to decide to be alone, but to know it’s my likely future? That it’s beyond my control?” She ran a hand over her damp hair. “That’s another thing altogether.”

  His smile fell. “You could be right.”

  Is this what you want for me, God? To be alone?

  She’d honestly never asked Him. Not once. Just decided that after Jeremy died, a season without a significant other was her path. But now? Now what was s
he supposed to think? Was she letting her attraction to Sean color her thoughts?

  The bus arrived finally, sloshing over the wet street, the brakes hissing as it slowed. The door groaned open as if it were too much effort to move. She waited for the others to board, then climbed the steps into the vehicle that smelled of the city and damp passengers. Bald and overweight, the uniformed bus driver’s belly hung over his belt holding up blue uniform pants, and his matching vest strained the zipper. His nametag said Enzo Russo, the driver they were looking for.

  “Afternoon.” A pleasant smile crossed his chubby face.

  As Sean fed dollar bills into the slot, she displayed her credentials and introduced them. “We need to talk to you about a man who rode your bus two nights ago.”

  Enzo frowned. “Then you’ll have to sit down and ride to the end of the route, because I can’t get behind schedule.”

  “We could talk as you drive.” Sean’s coins clinked down the slot.

  “Not happening. Security violation to have you in front of the line.” He jabbed a thumb at a yellow painted line on the floor. “So either take a seat or hop off. Your choice.”

  “How many stops to the end?”

  “Six.”

  “We’ll sit.” She smiled at him and went to find an open pair of seats near the front.

  She scooted as far as she could toward the window to keep Sean from touching her, but he was a big guy, the seat small, and his leg pressed against hers. She was aware of every touch point. Every fraction of an inch where her jeans brushed his cargo pants. As much as she wanted to move away, being close to him also felt right.

  How in the world could she feel this way when he’d just hurt her?

  Ignore it. Ignore him.

  She shifted her focus out the window, watching Portland’s slick streets pass by and listening to the spinning tires rumble over brick-paved intersections. Leafless trees lined the street, laden with big fat drops that served as artwork in themselves. She thought to take out her camera, but for once she really didn’t feel like snapping any pictures.

  Seriously. This was crazy. She’d taken to admiring tree branches to stop thinking about Sean. She stifled a frustrated groan and grabbed her phone to open the bus video so it was ready to show to Enzo.

  At the final stop, he parked, and after the other riders got off, he swiveled to face them. Sean let no time pass but was in front of Enzo in a flash.

  She joined them and held out her phone. “I have video from your route that I’d like to show you. We’re interested in the passenger in this clip. He got on at Twelfth Avenue in northeast Portland and off at the library. In the video, it looks like he talks to you.” She started it playing. “Do you remember him?”

  Enzo watched intently through thick wire-rimmed glasses. He started to shake his head, but then stopped and leaned forward. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember him.”

  “Did you get a look at his face?” Sean asked.

  “Nah. He didn’t look at me at all. Was a pretty rude fella.”

  “Didn’t you find that odd?” she asked.

  He rubbed his jaw. “Riders do weirder things than that. So no, that didn’t seem odd to me. But his tattoo was unusual.”

  “Unusual how?” Sean asked before she could.

  “First part of the design was on one hand, the second part on the other.” He pointed at her phone. “You can see it when he picks up the quarter and puts both hands together on the machine.”

  Excited, Taylor enlarged the screen by Phantom’s hands and rewound. The letter L with three horizontal lines to the left of it were tattooed on his right hand. His left hand lifted to drop the coin, revealing an R and a vertical line. He placed both hands together for the briefest of moments, and the lines came together to form an E.

  “REL,” she said, trying to work out why he would have that word, if it even was a word, inked on his hands.

  She glanced at Sean. A spark lit in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. Right. He had an idea of what it meant, but he wouldn’t speculate on the meaning in front of the driver.

  “I told him it was unique,” Enzo said. “And I asked if it stood for something. He just mumbled, ‘Mind your own business, old man.’”

  “That was rude.” And so very much like she would expect Phantom to behave. “Did he say anything else?”

  “No. He just dropped the quarter in and marched to his seat. I remember him getting off at the library. He shoved someone out of his way. Then he caught up to a young woman and took her arm. She jerked free and took off. I figured he was fighting with his girlfriend.” He ran a shaky hand over his face. “Don’t tell me he hurt that girl.”

  “No. She’s fine.”

  “Thank goodness. I almost called it in, but then she left on her own, and I figured it was all good.” He shook his head. “You see so much in this job, which is why I try to work the day shift if I can help it. The crazies really come out at night.”

  Another driver climbed the bus steps and eyed Enzo. “You planning to spend your break behind the wheel?”

  Enzo shook his head. “If that’s all, I gotta go.”

  “Can I get your phone number in case we have more questions?” Taylor opened a notes program on her phone.

  “Sure, sure.” He vacated his seat and shared his contact information.

  She repeated it back to him to make sure she got it right and gave him a business card. “If you think of anything that might help us, give me a call, okay?”

  He nodded.

  “Thanks, Mr. Russo.” She took a seat out of their new driver’s earshot, and Sean dropped down next to her as the bus swung back into motion.

  She wasted no time but faced him. “Seems like you have an idea what REL means?”

  “It’s a computer term,” Sean said. “Basically means a relationship to something else. Since Phantom’s into computers, at first it seemed like the most obvious explanation. But now, I honestly don’t think it’s that simple.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Someone as methodical and driven as Phantom wouldn’t ink his hands and not have it mean something important, and it’s a relatively innocuous word in the computer world.”

  She searched for a logical explanation. “Maybe he’s reminding himself of a personal relation to something. Or it could be an acronym and the letters mean something.”

  “I’m betting on the acronym. He’s aggressive. Bold. A risk taker. Not a people person. He turned on his partner after all, so I can’t see him letting a relationship influence him.”

  She had to agree. “So we’ll try to come up with an acronym.”

  “With only three letters and no real reference as a starting point, that’ll be like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that, but knew he was right. Still, she spent the remainder of the ride thinking about the acronym. When she stepped off the bus, she was no closer to having an answer. She wound her way through the riders waiting to get on and headed for the parking lot. Sean clicked the SUV doors open with his remote and climbed in, but as she opened her door, she noticed a man standing behind a nearby tree, furtively watching them.

  His physique fit Phantom’s build, and she knew she had to question the man, whoever he was. She started his way. He turned and fled.

  She drew her weapon. “Police! Don’t move!”

  But the man kept going, picking up speed, in full flight now. She chased after him. He glanced back, revealing his face.

  Shocked at seeing him clearly, she came to a stop and gaped after him.

  He cursed and ran. Fast. Across the lot.

  She came to her senses and began chasing him again, but with his head start and her shorter legs, he took a big lead and then vaulted over a wall too far ahead to catch.

  She reached the wall and stopped to take deep breaths. Sean came barreling up to her.

  “Phantom,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Call 911. Get the police on him.”

/>   He peered over the wall and dug out his phone. “Did you get a good look at him? Can you describe him?”

  “I can,” she got out between breaths. “I saw his face.”

  Taylor sat at her desk and stared at the photocopy of Phantom’s sketch. The artist had captured his face exactly as she recalled seeing him. Hair the color of dark chocolate was combed forward and cut in an uneven line, dipping over his high forehead. He had a large, fleshy nose on a square face, and his eyes were dark too, though she hadn’t been close enough to determine a color.

  Sean had already distributed the sketch to Oregon and Washington law enforcement, the news media, the airport, and the bus and train depots. They’d run it through the FBI’s facial-recognition program, but the software found no matches. She hoped someone would see Phantom’s sketch on the news, recognize him, and call the special number set up by Sean.

  She glanced up and spotted him talking with the team in the corner. She’d been so focused on the sketch, then evaluating and reorganizing her files, that she hadn’t even noticed them gather. He waved her over, and she wasted no time heading over there.

  He smiled when she reached them. “I was just going to come get you so we could review our findings. Did you discover anything missing?”

  She nodded. “I’d started a file, putting together the paperwork for transferring Dustee and Dianne. It’s gone. Not sure what Phantom thinks he can do with the file when it contained nothing of value to him.”

  “Maybe he thought it would delay the move,” Mack said.

  “Maybe.” She had no idea of Phantom’s motive and didn’t want to waste time speculating. “Anyone else find anything?”

  Mack nodded. “The intruder isn’t as skilled as we first thought. The office’s security system is a simple system like you’d find in a home but with a card reader.”

  “Easy to disable then,” Sean said.

  “Easy if he has basic electronics skills, which we know Phantom has.”

  She didn’t like hearing about their less-than-impressive system. “I’m surprised our security is so lax.”

  “Small offices like this one are low priority when it comes to budgets and pricey upgrades,” Sean said.

 

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