Too Close to Home Page 20

  “Well, Dr. Cash, brunch is on—” Tom stopped midsentence, his eyes on the silent television screen mounted on the wall in front of him.

  Samantha turned to see what had captured her friend’s attention. The camera zoomed in on the smoldering remains of a house. “What happened?”

  Closed captions ran across the bottom of the screen. She read aloud, “. . . a gas explosion happened last night, taking the lives of long-respected, veteran bomb squad member Calvin Calhoun and his nineteen-year-old son, Calvin Junior, better known as CJ.”

  Shock held her captive. Surprise, regret, dread filled her all at once. Along with a certain awful suspicion. “Calvin?”

  Jamie covered her sister’s hand. “Samantha, what’s wrong?”

  “That’s Calvin, the man who saved our lives yesterday. He’s dead?” Tears clogged her throat at the thought of the man’s ten-year-old daughter. Oh no. How?

  She tossed her napkin down on the table. “There’s no way that’s a coincidence.”

  Tom frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The guy who put that bomb in my car went after Calvin.”

  “What? But that’s crazy. Why would you even suspect that?” Tom shook his head as he peppered Samantha with questions. “Why would he do that and how would he know which bomb squad member was involved? Come on, Sam, that’s ridiculous.”

  Samantha threw her hands up. “Which question do I answer first? I don’t know how I know, I just do. This guy we’re after isn’t sane. Who knows why he’s doing the things he’s doing? As for Calvin, maybe this guy went after him for revenge for diffusing the bomb and messing up his plans. Maybe it was just for kicks.” She paused as a thought occurred to her. “Or maybe he’s afraid Calvin saw something he shouldn’t have. I don’t know. All I know is that another good man is dead, and this guy has got to be stopped. And soon.” She stood, turning to her sister. “Sorry, Jamie, but I’ve gotta run. I’ll call you later.”

  Jamie smiled, a sad smile, but one that said she understood. “Bye.”

  The Agent watched her leave the restaurant. Her feet pounded the cement. Anger radiated from her. She would look even harder, work longer hours searching for answers, searching for him. But she wouldn’t find him. Would never understand that which she desperately sought. Tapping his lip with a finger, he pondered what he ought to do. Should he call Boss and ask for direction? No, Boss would just tell him to get rid of the problem. Successfully this time. Many more failures and Boss would be ready to get rid of him.

  He’d thought it would be simple. After all, he’d had no trouble killing before. Why was it so hard to get rid of Samantha Cash? Frustration rippled through him as he realized he’d made a mistake in not killing her when he’d had the chance. He should have blown the car the minute he could have done so without risk to himself. Now it looked like another opportunity might not present itself anytime soon.

  He looked at her sister sitting there in the booth, innocent, oblivious to the danger surrounding her. Unfortunately, just being in Samantha’s presence could be lethal for her. The Agent smiled at the thought.

  If something happened to her sister, Samantha would be devastated. The Agent was nothing if not observant. He’d seen the interaction between the sisters. Especially the day he’d put the bomb in her car. If Jamie disappeared, maybe Samantha’s focus would be diverted from her case, buying him a little more time to finish up his business, tie up any loose ends, and get out of town.

  Once again he considered his options. No, Samantha and the cop were the ones who had to go. Samantha knew too much. Hmm. He took a sip from the Smooth Berry travel mug. Man, this place made good coffee.

  So, about Samantha and the cop she seemed to be falling for.

  He’d think on it and make the best decision.

  Jenna pulled into the driveway, laughing at the stunned expression on her father’s face. He unclipped his seat belt and turned to face her. “Where’d you learn to drive?”

  She flushed a bright red. “I got my learner’s permit a year ago.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I don’t want to tell you. You’ll be really mad at me.”

  Great. He narrowed his eyes, saying nothing.

  She sighed and mumbled, “Patty let me drive her car.”

  Horrified, Connor stared. “You’re kidding.”

  “No, but never on the streets or anything like that,” she hurried to assure him. “You know that deserted parking lot across town?”

  Sweat beaded his forehead, and he nodded, feeling a fraction of relief that she hadn’t been navigating the streets of town without a license.

  “Well, she’d take me there after school and let me practice.”

  Connor rubbed his eyes. He should punish her, give her consequences for her actions. He looked at her and saw the misery reflected on her features. At least she’d been straight with him. “Do you realize the trouble you could have gotten into?”

  “Yes.” A simple admission. No buts. No trying to excuse her actions. She was waiting for the boon to fall.

  “Okay, well, first thing after school on Monday, we’re going to get your permanent license and there’ll be no more driving illegally. Got it?”

  Slowly her eyes lifted to his. Grateful surprise gazed back at him. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And like, I’m grounded for a year? I can get my license, but my punishment is that I can’t drive?”

  “No.”

  “Um. Okay. Then could you put me out of my misery and let me in on what’s going to happen?”

  “Nothing.” He reached over to stroke her hair. “I love you, Jenna. I forgive you.”

  This time he’d rendered her speechless. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out.

  “Part of your problem is that I haven’t been here for you. I know that. I also know you blame me for your mother’s death and . . .” His throat closed up for a moment. He cleared it and said, “And maybe you have that right. I don’t know. Maybe if I’d been more patient, less driven, had a different job . . .” He broke off again and shrugged. “Your mom had a temper and I set it off easier than anyone I know. Of course she had the same effect on me when she wanted to.” He looked into Jenna’s tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. I’m sorry I got so caught up in my own grief I ignored yours. I’m . . . sorry. And I’m asking you to forgive me.”

  Jenna flung her arms around his neck and held on.

  He wrapped his arms around her slender frame and cherished the moment. How long had it been since he’d hugged her? Too long.

  “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered in his ear. Then let go and pushed her way out of the car and ran into the house.

  Connor sat back. She hadn’t said she’d forgiven him. But they’d made progress. He’d give her time to process everything, then they’d talk again.

  He watched Jenna’s bodyguard take up his post once more, and Connor’s anxiety level eased somewhat.

  His phone rang and he pulled it out to look at it. Samantha. “Hello?”

  “Did you see the news? He killed Calvin!”

  21

  The task force assembled. Papers rustled, laptops glowed. It was just after lunchtime and all was not well. Samantha paced the floor, wishing with all her heart she could figure out what was going on. How did this guy know their every move? Was it someone she trusted? The thought made her nauseated. Please, God, not that. Scanning the faces around the table, she wondered . . .

  “Sam?”

  Connor’s voice jerked her around to stare at the dozen or so faces looking at her expectantly. “Oh, sorry, I was thinking. What’d I miss?”

  “Any updates on the computers?” Dakota twisted a pen between his fingers and leaned back in his chair, booted feet propped up on the large desk that took up most of the room. He’d pushed his cowboy hat back on his head. The FBI agent next to him leaned forward and stared at Sam expectantly.

  “Nothing more than what I’ve alre
ady given you. If I’d had the chance to get into the girls’ network logs on their routers in a more timely manner, I might have found something more, but this guy is good, and I don’t know if I would have found anything or not. As near as I can tell, I seriously suspect that he sent them an email with a ‘payload.’”

  Dakota looked up. “Huh?”

  “Basically it’s an email that allows him to take over the computer when the email is opened.”

  Dakota steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. “Man, I’m going to stop opening emails.”

  Samantha smiled. “If you have a good firewall, it’s not so simple. If you don’t . . .” She shrugged and addressed the group. “All I’m saying is that this guy is as good as I am. Maybe better. I’ve got a call into the Abrams asking to let me hook into their router so I can look around in there again. I know what I’m looking for this time. But like I said, this guy knows what he’s doing.”

  Connor slapped a folder on the table and stood. “Well, we do too. It’s just a matter of time now.”

  The others nodded their agreement, and Connor placed his hands on the table in front of him. “All right, people, you know what to do. Let’s find this guy, please?”

  One by one, the law enforcement personnel filtered out of the room, leaving Connor, Dakota, and Samantha alone.

  She looked at Connor, respect for the man seeping from her. “I don’t know anyone who could be handling this case as well as you, Connor.” Realizing she’d singled him out, she grinned at Dakota. “You too.”

  He raised a knowing eyebrow that nearly touched the brim of his Stetson. “Uh-huh. Right.”

  Connor flushed at her praise. “Aw shucks, ma’am, wasn’t nothin’.”

  Dakota flipped his pen across the table, hitting Connor in the head. “Quit makin’ fun of me.”

  The trio laughed, needing the break from the tension. The captain came in the door. “When y’all are done playing in here and are ready to get back to work, I need your attention.”

  Connor stood. “What is it, Cap?”

  “Veronica Batson’s mother just got a text message from her missing daughter.”

  How could she have made such a stupid mistake? The Agent’s lips quivered with suppressed rage as he stared at the pregnant girl cowering in the corner, then turned his ire to the nurse who looked ready to flee at the least provocation.

  The Agent took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. Calm. Reach for that inner peace that he always found when he needed it. Calm. Peace.

  Opening his eyes, he looked at the woman who’d placed her cell phone on the counter and left the room for less than two minutes. And the girl on the table had slipped down to send a text message to her mother. He’d walked in just as she’d pressed the SEND button.

  A two-minute mistake that could cost him everything. “Clean it up,” he growled at the nurse.

  “I . . . I’m so sorry. I can’t believe she . . . I didn’t even . . .”

  “Think.” The Agent ended the sentence for her. “You’re right, you didn’t. I chose you. I handpicked you because you were one of the best. The one who showed such great promise. And Boss had faith in you, brought you into our little group. I pay you way too much for this kind of stupidity. And now . . .” He took another deep breath. “We need to move.”

  “But where?” She looked around at the extensive lab, the medical equipment. “How?”

  “Believe it or not, I actually planned for this. In the event that this location was compromised, I have a backup plan. Now get everyone working and get it cleaned up. I’ll have the truck backed up to the door. Start loading. Leave whatever isn’t critically needed. I have work to do, things to take care of immediately. When I get back, it better look like a ghost town around here.” He turned to the still trembling teen. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  The slamming door echoed behind him. He fumed as he stomped down the hall. All of his hard work. So close. So very close. He pulled out his cell and punched in a number.

  “We’re packing it up. I don’t know if they’ve located us yet, but they will.”

  A curse, a mutter, then, “What happened?”

  “One of my nurses made a stupid mistake. One that could lead the cops right to this doorstep.”

  “Pack it up and follow Plan B. I’ll have things ready for you when you get here.”

  “Working on it now.”

  “Yeah.”

  He felt a surly anger crowding out common sense. He sucked it back. Closed his eyes, tried to clear his head. It was imperative that he have his mind centered. “Okay, you get things moving on your end. I’m working on mine.”

  “We’ll be ready for you.”

  The Agent hung up, threw papers and files into an open box. Two more girls. Should have been three. He cleaned out his desk drawers. Was almost four. He paused, thinking.

  Actually, he could still add one more. He’d have a new location, a new setup. He was going to have to take the girls he had with him anyway. Right now, combined, they were worth over a quarter million dollars. There was no way he was missing out on all that money. He had a meeting set for tonight with Jenna. He planned to snatch her and hold her for insurance. The Agent threw open the door to his now empty office and scanned the area. He had to move fast. Stay one step ahead of them all.

  It had better be as simple as that.

  “Can you trace the text?”

  “Working on it now.” Dakota held the phone to his ear waiting for the information he desperately wanted.

  “Sam, you got the computers? We got the router.” Connor spit the questions like bullets.

  “Got it.” She mimicked Dakota’s previous posture, feet propped up on the table, laptop settled in snugly against her thighs. Her fingers flew over the keys.

  “Cap, search warrant?”

  “On the way. All we have to do is fill in the location Dakota gets us.”

  Samantha yelped. Her fingers froze over the keys. Connor strode to her side to look over her shoulder.

  “I found it.” She gave a breathless laugh. “I found another one.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. Excitement caused his stomach to turn flips. He felt almost hyper at the possibilities of what she’d discovered. “What?”

  “Like I explained before, the home network accesses the internet through a router. I made myself at home in the network logs of Miranda again and found the IP address of the computer that accessed it from a remote location. It’s a nonstandard IP address and it’s different from the one we found on the other computers.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know where the IP address came from, but you can trace it just as easily as you did the other one.”

  She wrote it down on a piece of paper and Connor passed it to Dakota. Dakota grabbed another phone and made a call to his FBI contact. He was still holding for the nearest tower location of the phone that made the text. Now he was waiting for the location of the IP address.

  Connor paced. Sam set the laptop on the table, stood and stretched. He turned his gaze from her lovely form. No time to think about how good she looked or how much he wanted uninterrupted time with her to explore their mutual feelings.

  Dakota slapped the phone down with a triumphant expression. “The text came from a cell phone registered to a woman named Crystal Bennington. I’ve already got my guys on their way to her house.” He looked at Samantha. “You should be getting a picture of this woman any minute on your email.”

  “What about the IP address?” she asked as she turned the laptop back toward her.

  Dakota waved the other phone at him. “Still waiting.”

  Connor started pacing again. His cell phone rang. “Hi, Jenna, what’s up, hon?”

  “Are you going to be home anytime soon? I was planning on cooking for you before I left for the sleepover. Maria’s mother said she’d pick me up, but . . .”

  Connor closed his eyes, regret piercing him. “No, sweetheart, I’m sorry. We just got a break
on this case and it’s going to take up the rest of my evening, I’m afraid.”

  Silence on the other end.

  “Jenna?”

  “That’s all right.” Her voice sounded subdued. “It was a dumb idea anyway.”

  “No, no, it wasn’t. It was a great idea and I . . . hey, will you cook it and put me a plate in the fridge so I can warm it up when I get there? I’m always starving when I get home. I’ll look forward to it. Trust me, it’ll be the highlight of my night.”

  She gave a sad chuckle. “You’re laying it on a little thick, but sure, I’ll do it. And . . . good luck catching whoever you’re after.”

  Relief sang in his veins. They hadn’t taken two steps back. “Thanks, Jenna. I really do appreciate it.”

  “Right. I’ll see you later. Be careful.”

  “I will. And . . . lock the doors, will you? At least until you leave?”

  This time a long-suffering sigh. “I always do, Dad.”

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  He hung up, wishing with all his heart he could climb in his car and head home. But he had a bad guy to catch, and if that meant missing Jenna’s supper, that’s what it had to mean.

  But he’d eat every bite the second he walked in the door. Whether he wanted it or not.

  Samantha climbed in the car to join in the search at Crystal Bennington’s home. Dakota received his answer about the IP address Sam had given him. It was a match to the internet address traced to Crystal Bennington. Dakota had also emailed a picture of the woman to Connor’s phone. If he saw her, he’d know her.

  Could it possibly be a woman behind all this? Samantha went through a mental checklist of what she knew about the perp, and a woman didn’t fit the profile. Could she be that far off in her assessment?

  “Turn that way,” Samantha said, pointing left.

  Dakota had headed for the judge to get the search warrant. He would meet them at the house.

  Connor circled the block looking for the address.

  “Right there.” Samantha pointed. Chesapeake Avenue. A very nice part of town. “Not hurting for money, is she?”

  “Doesn’t look like it.”