Jumping Rise

by S. W. Hubbard

  “And what does Kendall post?”

  “Not much—occasionally comments on other people’s posts. Seems like more of a lurker.”

  “Is that ominous?” Frank asked. He didn’t understand the appeal of social media, so he couldn’t judge the protocols. And he was predisposed to find Kendall creepy.

  “Not necessarily. My mom likes to scroll through Facebook to see what our relatives are doing, but she rarely bothers to post.” Earl shot pushpins into a container on the far side of his desk. “I do think it’s kinda odd that Kendall would have accounts everywhere and not post on any of them.”

  “He told me he works from home in computer security. Maybe he needs accounts for his work.”

  “Could be.”

  “Any clue where the mother and daughter live?” Frank asked.

  “Looks like they’re on the other side of Albany in Delmar,” Earl said. “They both work at SUNY Albany. The daughter just graduated.”

  Frank raised his eyebrows. “So they’d have university email addresses?”

  “Yep. First initial last name at Albany dot edu.”

  Frank gave Earl a thumbs up. “Excellent. Maybe I can enquire about Regis in a roundabout way. Crafting the right message might take some time.”

  Earl checked his watch. “I’m going over to the library at five to meet up with Farhan Patel. He’s going to help me set up blocks on the library computers to keep them from being used for gambling and computer games and any other scam stuff that Penny wants to block.”

  “That’s great, Earl. Penny appreciates your help. And I bet Farhan is very flattered to be called on for his expertise.”

  “The kid’s a genius,” Earl said. “I want to watch him work so I can learn.”

  Frank smiled and returned to his task. But when Earl grabbed his hat and headed for the door at five, an idea came to him. “Hey, Earl—while you and Farhan are working on the library computers, ask Penny which one Keith Hale used when he was there a few days ago.”

  Earl smiled. “And then see if Farhan can tell what sites he might have visited?”

  Frank shrugged. “I know it’s a long shot. If Keith was just doing innocuous checking of his email and social media, you won’t notice anything special on that computer. But just in case you do discover anything unusual, let me know.”

  “It’s a public computer,” Earl reminded Frank. “You won’t be able to link activity specifically to Keith.” But then Earl furrowed his brow. “Unlesss...”

  “Unless what?”

  “He logged into a password-protected account on a site using that computer. That could be useful evidence someday.”

  “SORRY I’M LATE. I LOST track of time,” Frank said when he got home. He’d worked on a message to Regis Kendall’s wife, but still hadn’t pressed send. He couldn’t be sure where the ex-wife’s loyalties lay, and he worried about alerting Regis Kendall to his suspicions.

  Penny kissed his cheek. “I’m not wasting time scolding because I have fascinating information for you.” She pulled him toward her laptop on the kitchen table. “Wait ‘til you see what my librarian friends have turned up.”

  In the hours that Frank had been working, Penny had culled key information from various sources discovered by her colleagues and pulled the information into a one-page report, complete with footnotes. Frank began to read.

  In 1980, Roderick Sutton won The Balsams from James Hale in a Las Vegas poker game. Sutton was the patriarch of a family that made all its money running casinos and resorts. Unlike the casino showmen Trump and Bally, Sutton was a behind-the-scenes operator who partnered with many Native American tribes to run profitable casinos on their reservations. When Roderick Sutton died, his children moved into online gaming and added several profitable sites to their business. After their father’s death, none of the children had any interest in maintaining The Balsams and put it on the market two years ago, when it was purchased by Desmond Hale.

  Frank glanced up at his wife. While he appreciated her attention to factual detail, nothing he’d read so far warranted the simmering excitement he saw in her eyes.

  She pointed at the computer screen. “Keep reading.”

  The Sutton dynasty has grown and prospered through its innovative use of the latest interactive gaming technology. The Suttons spared no expense in hiring top information technology talent from universities and luring away executives from Google, Apple, and Facebook. Examination of Sutton Corporation annual reports reveals a constantly changing cast of IT executives in leadership positions.

  Holding the position of Deputy Chief Information Officer for two years was Regis Kendall.

  Frank looked up at his wife in awe. “This can’t be a coincidence. A connection to The Balsams and to online gambling.”

  “I don’t think so either. Kendall worked for Sutton right at the time The Balsams was being sold. Kendall spent time in the Adirondacks, so it’s not a stretch that he’d be aware of the sale and take some interest in it.”

  “But I need to find a direct link between Kendall and the house or the Hale family,” Frank said. “Can you find other people who worked at Sutton Corporation at the same time as Kendall?”

  “I knew you’d ask that.” Penny tapped a few keys and a one-page spreadsheet of names, titles, and contact numbers filled the screen.

  Frank beamed. “I owe you, big time.”

  “You do. Change your clothes. You’re taking me out to dinner.”

  Chapter 38

  The next morning, Frank got busy long before his shift at the office was due to begin. He had three email accounts: his official police chief account, his personal account that used his name, and what he thought of as his anonymous account: hphiker. He used the anonymous account anytime an organization he didn’t really want to hear from demanded his email, but it also came in handy for reaching out to witnesses without scaring them off.

  Or alerting the target of his inquiries.

  In this case, he didn’t want people who knew Regis Kendall to tell the man that the police chief of Trout Run, or even a person named Frank Bennett, had been asking about him. He began by composing an email to the colleagues Kendall had worked with at the Sutton Corporation saying that he was considering hiring Kendall for a computer security project and asking if they could vouch for his work. He sent the same message to seven people.

  Within minutes, responses began pinging into his inbox.

  A few were noncommittal: “He possesses good skills in the areas of....” And then a lot of technical stuff Frank didn’t understand. Another said, “Although Regis possesses great technical skills, he is not a team player.”

  Then one came in that said, “That prick had the nerve to list me as a reference? As far as I’m concerned, I hope he never works again.”

  Whew!

  And then the motherlode: a lengthy email from a woman. Frank’s grip on his phone tightened as he read her enraged missive. Toxic work environment...constant harassment of female colleagues...viewing and sharing online porn during work hours...intentionally exposing female colleagues to porn and ridiculing their objections. And it concluded with, “I hope no woman ever has to work alongside this jerk again.”

  Online gambling...online porn. It seemed to Frank that it was a quick hop from one online vice to another. Is this why Kendall’s wife had left him? Is it why his adult daughter wanted nothing to do with him? Was Kendall just a user, or was he also a purveyor of smut?

  Did it explain Kendall’s interest in Caitlin Lupton?

  Frank felt queasy. No wonder poor Caitlin had been unwilling to turn to her parents for help. Had Kendall pressured her into performing? The message that Farhan had sent for her—I accept your terms—took on a new meaning. Maybe Caitlin hadn’t been agreeing to a price for drugs. She’d been accepting an assignment that terrified her.

  Frank dropped his phone on the kitchen table. Above his head, he could hear Yogi thudding from the bed onto the floor and Penny running water in the bathroom. The b
eginning of another normal day.

  Caitlin would never know the pleasures of a nice, boring life. She might have been emerging from the terrible mistakes of her young adulthood, but Kendall pulled her back down into a hellish quagmire she couldn’t escape.

  Kendall was no ordinary bad guy. He was smart and resourceful and he’d worked hard to cover his tracks.

  Frank knew he couldn’t catch him single-handedly.

  He had to convince the state police of Regis Kendall’s involvement in Caitlin’s murder. He couldn’t continue freelancing, couldn’t continue antagonizing Meyerson—he had no standing to interrogate Kendall or anyone in his circle. Frank was glad now that he’d held back on contacting Kendall’s ex.

  But he couldn’t bear to stand by while Meyerson veered off in the wrong direction so that the case was never solved.

  That meant Frank had to find a way to give Meyerson the information, yet make the lieutenant look like the genius who’d put the clues together.

  Brown-nosing. He’d never been able to bring himself to do it to advance his career in Kansas City.

  But he’d have to find the will—and the skill—to do it today.

  Finding justice for Caitlin depended on it.

  AT THE OFFICE, FRANK watched the clock. When would be the best time to call Meyerson? If he waited too long, the lieutenant might be out on a call or stuck in a meeting. But no one liked to be slammed first thing in the morning before he’d had a chance to read his email or drink a cup of coffee.

  Frank sighed and swiveled away from his phone. He was procrastinating, and he knew it.

  “What’s the matter, Frank?” Doris set a mug of coffee on his desk despite his repeated warnings that it wasn’t her job to wait on him. “That’s the third time you’ve made that sound.”

  “I didn’t make any sound,” Frank snapped.

  Doris sat in the visitor’s chair, unperturbed by his crankiness. “Yes, you did. It sounds like ‘ca-rumph.’ It’s the sound you always make when you have to do something you don’t want to do.”

  Frank looked at his secretary. There were many things Doris didn’t know—how to make a chart in a Word document, how to add a link to an email—but she certainly did know his moods.

  “I have to call Lew Meyerson and suck up to him to get him to do something, and I’m dreading it.” Frank rustled some papers on his desk hoping Doris would take the hint and leave.

  No such luck.

  “You know what works for me?”

  No. And I don’t care.

  Frank took a deep breath. This was a good opportunity to practice being nice against his will. “What works for you, Doris?”

  “Asking questions. See, when I overhear you talking to Lt. Meyerson, you’re always telling him information and telling him what he needs to do. But I’ve found people don’t much like being told. It’s better to act like you’re the one who needs help. Start out by asking a favor.”

  Frank studied Doris’s earnest gaze and tilted head. She looked like a robin listening for a worm.

  “So, like when people come in here wanting a building permit, I have to get them to fill out a long form,” Doris continued. “If I just hand it to them and say, ‘Fill this out or else the Zoning Board won’t give you the permit,’ then they complain and yell and threaten. So I say, ‘I’m really sorry, but I’m going to need your help filling out this form otherwise I’ll get in trouble with the Zoning Board. Could you please give me a hand?’ Then they’re sweet as pie, and we complain together how unreasonable the Zoning Board is, and before you know it, the form is all filled in.”

  Doris placed her hands on the knees of her polyester slacks and gave Frank a Mona Lisa smile.

  Her typing was slow, her filing inaccurate, her spelling atrocious, and Frank had often prayed for her early retirement. And yet....

  Frank got out of his chair and walked around his desk. He placed his hand on his secretary’s shoulder. “Thank you, Doris. That’s very helpful.”

  She patted his hand and went back to her desk to send off a few grammatically incorrect property tax reminders.

  Frank sat back down, organized his facts, made some notes. Then he picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Hello, Lew? Do you think you could help me out with a problem? I seem to have got in over my head, and I could sure use your advice.”

  Chapter 39

  The stars had aligned.

  By some miracle, Frank’s call to Meyerson had come moments after one of Lew’s subordinates reported that Regis Kendall appeared to have gone underground.

  Lew had delegated the job of interviewing Kendall a second time, and the trooper assigned to the task had accepted Kendall’s explanation that he was tied up with business on the west coast. But when the trooper’s calls and emails continued to go unanswered, he’d visited Kendall’s house in Colonie, where he found mail and newspapers stacked up. And a neighbor who spotted the state police car trotted over, distraught because she’d agreed to dog sit for a couple of days, but Kendall had been out of touch for a week.

  All of which made Meyerson unusually receptive to the new details on Kendall that Frank had brought him. Asking for help, presenting the information as a puzzling question, and most of all, resisting the impulse to say, ‘I told you so’, had worked. Meyerson was much less defensive and dismissive than usual. “We’re going to put a full-court press on finding Kendall,” he assured Frank.

  Frank felt a lump of anxiety shift in his gut. The state police had the resources to track Kendall down. They could question his ex-wife and demand information from his former colleagues. Now the investigation was moving in the right direction.

  “We’ll also need to re-interview the Luptons,” Meyerson continued.

  “Including Rachel?” Frank remembered to lift his voice to make the command into a query.

  “Yes.” Meyerson hesitated. “Maybe you should be present for that, Frank. Mrs. Lupton seems to have connected with you.”

  Frank smiled. Geez, he was going to have to buy Doris flowers after this investigation wrapped up. “I’d be happy to help. Let me know the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

  When Earl arrived in the office, he found Frank with a blissful smile on his face.

  And when he learned the developments that had brought that smile to his boss’s face, Earl grinned too. “I have some information that’s going to make you even happier.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Farhan found something on the library computer.”

  Earl dug through his backpack and handed Frank a sheet of paper. “The computer Keith used shows a brief visit to Jacks Are Wild, an online poker and blackjack site. It’s on the day and time that Penny said Keith was there. None of the other library computers show a visit to that site.”

  “Great work! Is it possible to tell who owns and operates the site?”

  “The homepage of the site doesn’t reveal much,” Earl said. “It’ll take some digging.”

  “Don’t worry about it—I’ll share this with Meyerson, and he’ll get the state police computer experts to look into it.”

  Earl looked both disappointed and relieved. “Farhan and I were both going to work on it today from our own computers and touch base on progress. I’ll tell him he doesn’t need to bother.” Earl tossed a bag of his mother’s homemade Snickerdoodles onto Frank’s desk and stuck his lunch in the office fridge. “That kid is scary smart. I would never have found Keith’s trail to the gambling site. Keith erased it from the browser.”

  Frank nibbled a cookie. “But Keith wasn’t on the gambling site long enough to actually play a game, right? And surely his father and Penny would have noticed if he had.”

  “He might’ve just been checking his account—see how much he owed or how much he won,” Earl said.

  “Or doing that for his brother. I got the feeling from what was said at dinner that Justin was the gambler, not Keith, Mr. Harvard Law.” Frank took another cookie, then moved the bag to Earl’s desk out of temptation’s
reach. “I wish I understood those two. There was plenty of animosity between them the night Penny and I were at The Balsams. But the garage landlord said he saw the two of them going off to a party together earlier in the summer.”

  Earl cocked his head. “What did you call Keith?”

  “Mr. Harvard Law. He managed to tell us within the first minute of meeting us that he’d just graduated from Harvard and was starting Harvard Law in the fall.”

  “That house where I got the noise complaint...” Earl began.

  Frank pointed a pen at Earl. “All the cars had Ivy League college stickers. You think that could be the party house where Justin and Keith were headed?”

  “Makes sense. The guy I talked to there was early twenties, like the Hale brothers. The lady who made the noise complaint said that kids have been partying at that house all summer long.”

  Frank smiled. “Once we’ve identified a trouble spot, we should keep an eye on it, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Absolutely.”

  WHILE FRANK WAITED for Meyerson to set up a second interview with the Lupton family, he decided enough time had passed to take another run at forcing Blaine’s cooperation. Even though the parents had reacted badly to his suggestion, Frank felt he understood the family dynamic better now.

  Blaine, like Caitlin, still had some vestige of his parents’ approval left to lose.

  And after Mr. and Mrs. Timmons’ explosion, Frank had a lot less to lose with Doris.

  That shift wasn’t seismic, but Frank felt he could use it to his advantage.

  So Frank drove to the county jail one more time. Once inside, he found Blaine waiting sullenly in the visitation room.

  Frank dropped into a chair and started talking. “I found the ATV you stole from Todd in the woods near the old Trimont logging road. I need you to tell me who you stole it for.”

  “I’m not telling you shit without my lawyer.” Blaine faced Frank defiantly. ”My parents warned me not to talk to you.”