No Rhyme or Reason

by Mairsile Leabhair

  The glasses made his eyes look huge even though the lenses were small. Billy flipped one layer of frames up and his eyes grew even larger. He looked down again at the circuitry of a cell phone he was working on.

  “Is that Jack’s phone?” Trina asked, walking up beside him.

  Billy pulled his glasses off and glared at her. “Get out of my space. I don’t like anyone in my space.”

  “Good to know,” Trina said, taking a step back.

  “Billy, this is my partner, Detective Trina Wiles. Can you answer her question?”

  Billy was a genius as long as he stayed in his own little digital world. If he deviated outside that realm, he became agitated easily.

  “No,” he said and kept working.

  Trina looked at me and frowned, and I shook my head. Maybe if I phrased the question differently. “Billy, do you have the report on Jack’s cell phone?”

  “Jack said for your eyes only,” he replied, pointing at a stack of papers, neatly typed and stapled. “I’m still working on the anonymous proxy, but I’m narrowing in on the bastard.”

  “Who all was compromised?” I asked.

  “You, Jack, and Greg. It’s all there in my report.”

  I picked the papers up and thumbed through the sections. There were one sheet reports on Jack’s cell phone, landline, and computers. Then there were detailed reports on my computer, as well as Greg’s. Billy was as meticulous in his reporting as he was in everything else he did.

  “Thanks, Billy,” I said and turned to walk away.

  “It was nice seeing you again,” he said cheerfully, returning to his work.

  “You, too,” I replied.

  “Next time, come alone,” he added, not bothering to look up.

  “Works for me,” Trina said with a smirk as we walked out the door.

  “Let’s grab a terminal and do some research,” I suggested, walking over to an empty desk. I could tell that no one had used the desk in a while because there were no empty coffee cups in the trash can.

  Greg worked on the other side of the building and always had me do his running for him, so I was pretty sure he wouldn’t show up, unless his new partner wasn’t as willing or eager to do the mundane tasks. Still, I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. I no longer felt safe in my own home.

  “So, why did you and Greg stop being partners?” Trina asked as she pulled a chair over to the desk.

  How does she do that? “Jack wanted him to partner with a rookie, and I was kind of left hanging. I didn’t mind not having a partner. It was nice making all the decisions.” I handed her the reports on Jack’s electronics. “If you’ll look through those, I’ll tap into Greg’s case files and do a search for anything weird.”

  “Define weird,” Trina said, as she crossed one leg over her knee, settled the papers in her lap, and picked up the first set.

  “You know, something like my name on a case I was never on. An agent’s name who doesn’t work here. Weird stuff like that.”

  “Ah, and you can run a search like that?”

  “Sure, just type in a few parameters and the program does the rest.”

  “And can anyone trace your search after the fact?” Trina asked.

  “That’s one of the parameters I can set, although Billy could easily get past that security if he wanted. He’s the one who wrote the program. Lucky for me, though, he doesn’t like you-know-who, so it would take someone much higher up in the pay grade to get him to do it.”

  She suddenly sat up, spilling the papers to the floor.

  “Did you find something already?” I asked, gawking at her.

  “I may have. See this. It says that Paul made a call to Jack.”

  “Your Paul?”

  “Yeah, that’s his cell phone number. Don’t you think that’s something Jack should have mentioned?”

  “Yes, if he knew about it,” I countered, looking at the numbers. “That’s Jack’s office number. Anyone could have used his phone to call Paul.”

  She wasn’t listening to me. “Run a check and see if Paul and Jack ever crossed paths before.”

  “You really want Jack to be the bad guy, don’t you?” I asked, holding back my temper.

  “No. Actually, I was thinking more about eliminating them both from the start,” she responded without inflection.

  “Oh, okay. I think you’re right,” I admitted and typed in the parameters. “Although we don’t have a search warrant to look at Jack’s phone.”

  “Only look at his FBI-issued phone, then,” she suggested.

  I had to think that one through. Technically, I wouldn’t be infringing on his privacy since it was a company phone. But would Jack see the reasoning in that? “I’m going to miss my job when I’m fired,” I said half joking.

  “He’s not going to fire you,” Trina said with a grin. “You’re like a daughter to him.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  It took it a few moments to search through all the files, so I picked up my purse from the desk and pulled out a stick of chewing gum. I rarely chewed gum, but I always kept a pack handy in case I was nervous. Waiting on the report was making me nervous. “Want a stick?” I asked, holding the stick of aluminum-wrapped gum out to Trina.

  “What kind is it?” she asked.

  “Spearmint.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s my favorite. Well, except for bubble gum, of course.”

  “Of course. Someday we’ll have to see who can blow the biggest bubble…”

  The computer dinged, indicating the report was ready. I immediately dropped the package of gum on the desk and clicked on the report.

  “Uh, thanks. I’ll just help myself,” she said.

  “What? Oh, yes, please do,” I replied absentmindedly. “Trina, look at this.” She wasn’t going to like what I was pointing at, but I didn’t think she’d want me to sugarcoat it. The report showed incoming calls from Paul to Greg three times and Jack once.

  “That’s bullshit,” she growled, the anger flushing her cheeks pink.

  “Trina—”

  “Why would Paul lie to me? He said he hadn’t heard from Greg in years.”

  “Trina, I don’t want to make you any madder, but I want you to hear what you’re saying and realize that I’ve been saying something similar about Jack and Greg.”

  “What’s your point?” she asked testily.

  I looked into her eyes, dark with anger. “My point is the same point that you’ve been trying to convince me of. To paraphrase, get all the facts first and then go in with your guns blazing.”

  She frowned, but there was a smile underneath it. “I never said that. But it sounds about right. Okay, print that out for me, please. I want to look at those times and see if I can match them with Paul’s time at the precinct.”

  “Okay, printer’s behind us against the wall,” I said, hitting the print button. Then I typed in a new search focusing on Greg’s email.

  Trina came back, studying the printouts. “These don’t make sense. All three calls Paul made to Greg were on the same day that Greg showed up at the precinct. The day he pretended not to know you.”

  I remembered not liking Greg when I met him that day. Was I sensing something in him that I hadn’t seen before? The fact that he pretended not to know me made him look that much guiltier. But maybe he knew I was working undercover and was trying to protect my cover. Except… only Jack knew I was working undercover. “This is giving me a damn headache,” I mumbled to myself.

  “Did you say something?” Trina asked, looking up.

  “I’m running a search on Greg’s email to see if he and Paul corresponded. And before you ask, yes, I included Jack in that search.”

  “Good. Thanks. I doubt they’d be that dumb, but you never know.”

  “If they thought they couldn’t be caught, they might be that dumb,” I theorized.

  “True enough,” she muttered, studying the papers. “There’s one phone number on here that Greg keeps calling but there’s no nam
e beside it. We need to do a trace on it.”

  “Which one?” I asked, taking the paper from her. She pointed at the number, and I looked at it.

  “Do you recognize it?”

  “No. They didn’t even have a phone in my room, and I never saw the phone statement. But I know it’s not local.”

  “No. That’s our country’s exit code,” she said. “You use that when you’re dialing internationally. The question is, which country uses 501?”

  “Hold on a sec,” I said, tapping on the keyboard. I set back and stared at the monitor. “It’s Belize. Greg was calling someone in Belize.”

  “It looks like, over the past couple of years, he made six calls to Belize.”

  “What about when I was undercover? Any activity then?” I asked, trying to piece a timeline together.

  “Last month he made two calls and… a call last Saturday. The day you were attacked.”

  “Shit. No. It doesn’t mean anything,” I said, raising my voice.

  She glanced at me and nodded. “You’re right. Let’s keep going.”

  She didn’t argue or tell me I was wrong. I wanted her to argue with me. I was angry, and I needed someone to point my anger at.

  While the email scan was running, I decided to run an all-inclusive search on myself. It would include any cases I worked on, who worked with me, any follow up to those cases, and even include the evidence tags. It would also find my name in emails whether they were to me or not. I set the parameter for the last months during the time I was embedded with the family. Although I knew that emails could easily be backdated simply by changing the date on the computer, it was the text that I was interested in.

  As that search ran, the report on Greg’s emails finished, and I sent them to the printer. “I’ll get it,” I said, standing up. I walked over to the supply cabinet first and retrieved a USB flash drive and some binder clips, then I picked up the printouts and sat back down. Clipping the report, I sat it aside and inserted the flash drive into the computer. I could feel Trina watching me, but I didn’t look at her as I saved the reports to the flash drive.

  She picked up the last report and began scanning through it. I glanced at her a couple of times and each time, she was frowning. That just made me angrier.

  The report I ran on myself was taking longer than the others because there was more info to sift through, so I got up again and walked over to the coffee maker. I didn’t really want any coffee, I just needed to step away for a moment and calm my nerves. None of this was Trina’s fault. I knew that. I was only angry with her because she’d suggested Greg’s involvement day’s before she had any real evidence and now it looked like she was right. Rationally, I should thank her. She seemed to be the only one in my life who was watching my back. I turned around to see that Trina was watching me. Chuckling under my breath, I returned to the desk.

  “Your report is ready,” she said, eyeing me curiously.

  “I could use a stiff drink,” I said, clicking on the report and sending it to the printer. “I’m also starving. Let’s read these over lunch.”

  “Sounds good,” Trina replied, standing up. “I’ll get the printouts.”

  “Thank you. I’ll erase the reports from the logs and be right there.” Saving everything to the flash drive, I ejected it and slipped it in my purse. Then I deleted everything and stood up just as Trina walked slowly toward me, her head down as she thumbed through the pages.

  “Find anything good?” I asked even though I was afraid of the answer.

  “I think you’d better have that drink first,” she replied with a sour look on her face.

  Chapter Thirty

  Things Just Got Crazier – Trina Wiles

  Ruby downed her first martini while I nursed my cognac. The restaurant wasn’t busy this late in the afternoon, so we could talk in private.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” Ruby said. “What did you find?”

  “Pictures of you… um…” I pulled the report out of the folder I’d swiped before we left and thumbed through to the photos. “This isn’t going to be easy to see, Ruby.”

  “I’ve seen death before,” she said, holding her hand out.

  “Not your own,” I said, handing her the pictures.

  She looked at me inquiringly, then down at the pictures. “Oh, my God,” she gasped, her hands shaking so badly she dropped the picture on the table.

  The picture was of her lying on the ground unconscious, a needle in both arms. Grady Underwood was kneeling beside her, fondling her breast and smiling for the camera. It turned my stomach to see that animal touch her, and I found myself wishing he were alive so that I could beat him to a pulp… over and over again. But my anger would have to wait.

  I took her hands in both of mine. “I’m sorry, Ruby.”

  “What…” She grabbed a napkin and wiped the tears that were dripping on her cheeks. She looked at the next photo and gasped again. “Whose name was on the report?”

  The photos were different angles of the same subject, all with Grady posing for the camera. Whoever was taking the photos was most likely using a cell phone because they were all vertical, which is how most people take pictures on their cell phones. It was also helpful in limiting what was seen in the background.

  I looked at the printout and grimaced. Oh, shit. How am I going to tell her that?

  “Trina?” Her eyes welled up again as she looked at me. “Just tell me.”

  I inhaled slowly. “Jack. Jack’s name was on the report.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “No, it can’t be. Jack is the one who got the warrant. He’s the one who told me to run the reports.”

  “You’re right. He would know that you’d find these,” I agreed. “He’s being set up.”

  “Yes. Yes, that makes sense,” she said.

  Her cell phone rang and, wiping her eyes again, she pulled the phone out of her purse. She hit the speaker button and barked, “What?”

  “Ruby, it’s Jack. Everything all right?”

  “No, Jack, nothing is all right,” she answered.

  “What’s going on? Ruby? Trina, are you there?”

  “I’m here, Jack. We need to talk. Now.”

  There was a pause on the phone, and I could hear talking in the background. Sounded like he was still at the hospital.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “The steakhouse on West Alabama Street,” I said.

  “I know the one,” he said. “Be there in twenty minutes.”

  “Come alone and make sure you’re not followed,” I ordered.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said smartly.

  I almost smiled.

  Ruby ended the call and waved at the waitress for another drink.

  “We’d better eat something, or you’ll be drunk by the time Jack gets here.”

  “Good, it’ll give me the courage to make him tell me the truth,” she said, pointing at the picture of herself being raped.

  I picked the picture up and put it back in the folder. “We don’t know the truth yet, Ruby. And I’ve got a feeling that we may never know the entire truth.”

  “I won’t accept that. Not after all the harm they’ve done. We have to weed out all of them, even if they are our friends.”

  Was she talking about Paul? I’ll admit, the fact that Paul’s name came up in those reports was very disconcerting, and I would really like to get him to explain it to me. Seemed pretty coincidental that both Ruby’s and my partners were implicated in something so heinous. I had no doubt that Greg was involved. He knew who she was. Paul told him about the attack and the amnesia and yet he pretended not to know her. That was his mistake.

  We ordered some food and had another drink, and then buried our heads in the reports.

  “There’s a report that explains why Grady was working at the convent,” I stated, reading over the paper.

  “Really? That’s one piece of the puzzle I couldn’t figure out,” she said.

  “You’ll be happy to know that
there was no connection between your sister and Grady, like we thought. When the nuns hired Grady, they didn’t know he had been in prison for rape. He told them it was for robbery and that he was trying to start over. His references were faked by his cellmate, a hacker who was in prison for child trafficking by hacking kids’ social media and selling their information. Turns out the hacker had been selling to Joey, but they didn’t have enough evidence to arrest Joey. And here’s the kicker; Greg was the one who put the hacker behind bars.”

  “It’s like the six degrees of Kevin Bacon,” she said.

  We kept reading in silence, until I spotted something. “Ruby, have a look at this,” I said, handing her a printout of one of Jack’s text messages.

  She set her drink down and began reading. “What is it? It’s not making sense.”

  “According to Billy’s precise details on the next page, it’s a code of some kind,” I said. “Someone sent Jack a text with malware in it and hacked into his email, phone calls, and GPS.”

  “Someone? Who?”

  “It could have been anyone,” I explained. “The texts work a lot like emails and if you open one from an unknown sender, you could possibly download a virus.”

  “I think I remember reading about that in the daily briefings,” Ruby said.

  “It looks like the same malware was on his computer,” I summarized. “And yours and Greg’s computers.” Billy had bolded a word that jumped out at me. “Belize.”

  “What?”

  “Joey left us a message. Ayisyen wa Joenal di ale fuck tèt ou, Amerik. Translation, Haitian King Joenal says go fuck yourself, America.”

  “Where did that come from?” Ruby asked, leaning over and looking at the paper.

  “Your computer,” I answered. “Billy listed the date your computer was hacked, and it was the day before you were attacked. It was meant to be found after you were dead.”

  “Seems like a lot of things were meant to happen after I died.”

  “Maybe,” I mumbled, reading further. “Nope. Jack’s computer was hacked a month prior to that.”

  “And Greg’s computer?”