Interference

by Danielle Girard

  Mei reached back for the flash drive but Aaron pushed her aside.

  He pulled the drive out and held it up. “What are you looking for?”

  “We know what you’re doing.”

  Aaron grabbed her arm, digging fingers into her bicep. “Give me those papers.”

  Mei jerked herself free and ran. Her phone was in her purse with her keys. She didn’t stop. Just get out of the lab.

  Aaron yanked her ponytail and brought her down hard on her back. She lost her breath. The linoleum vibrated through her pelvis and up her spine. The pages fluttered to the floor. Mei rolled over and dove for them. Swept them into her hand, scrambled back to her feet.

  She saw the gun in his hand and froze.

  “Guess you missed this when you went through my stuff.”

  Mei gripped the pages and remained completely still. The pistol was a 9mm or maybe a .45. A bullet that would do damage. “Give me the pages,” Aaron demanded, taking a step forward.

  Mei stepped away. “You’re not going to shoot me in the middle of the lab, Aaron. You’ll go to jail.”

  “You don’t have anything on me,” Aaron said. His voice caught on the word “me,” like he was choking.

  “We do.” She inched backward ever so slowly. “We know, Aaron. But we can help you if tell us who else is involved.”

  Aaron stepped forward again. A lumbering step like a drunk. Sweat shone on his face. “Why are you in my stuff? How did you know?”

  “Everyone knows, Aaron.”

  The gun trembled in his hand. “They can’t.”

  “The case files.”

  “How could they have tracked that?”

  “Hailey Wyatt gave me your name,” Mei said. “How do you think I ended up looking through your stuff?”

  Aaron licked his lips. His eyes darted to the computer and back. “Wyatt? Who the hell is Wyatt?”

  “Homicide.”

  Aaron shook his head. “No.”

  Mei felt him shift. “Berry knows, too. And Blanchard.”

  Aaron seemed to flinch as she recited the names.

  “O’Hanlan and Harris, too.”

  He wiped his face with his sleeve.

  Mei took another step backward. Too far from the door. She glanced around. She needed a weapon. There was nothing.

  “You’re lying,” he charged, extending his hand with the gun toward her. But the motion was halfhearted. His hand shook.

  Mei pushed. “I’m not, Aaron. They’re pulling together an independent forensics team right now.”

  Aaron’s gaze flickered across the room. He didn’t seem to notice the sweat coming down his face. He braced the gun with his other hand as though struggling to hold it up. His finger shifted toward the trigger, he took a shaky aim at her.

  Mei froze.

  The lab door slammed open. Lanier barreled in. “Drop it,” she shouted.

  Mei dove from the line of fire.

  Aaron hid the gun behind his back.

  “Drop the gun,” Lanier said.

  “It’s not what you think. It’s just—I—It was a misunderstanding.”

  “Drop it now,” Lanier commanded.

  Aaron opened his hands and the gun clattered to the floor. Lanier stepped on it and slid it out of his reach. “Turn around and put your hands on top of your head.”

  “I—” Aaron started.

  “Now,” she demanded.

  Aaron moved in a slow circle and brought his hands to his head. Lanier wasted no time cuffing his hands behind his back. She pushed him down. “On your knees.”

  He lowered himself slowly. She gripped his arms and pressed him to the floor. “Down on your stomach. All the way down.” When Aaron lay flat, Lanier radioed for backup. Finally she turned to Mei. “Are you okay?”

  Mei gripped the edge of the chair and pulled herself slowly into it. Her heart was pounding. “How did you know I’d be here?”

  “Hailey Wyatt called me. She thought something might have set you on a wild goose chase here in the lab.” She glanced at Aaron. “I guess maybe Wyatt was wrong about it being a wild goose chase.”

  Mei nodded, holding up the crumpled papers in her hand. She stared at Aaron on the floor. The back of his dress shirt was soaked through with sweat. He was silent. Only the movement of his back indicated that he was crying. Arrogant and conceited, yes. Capable of something illegal, certainly. But killing two men and lighting a warehouse on fire? Mei still couldn’t see that.

  Something would turn up on his computer. Some evidence to erase all doubt. It had to. She pressed her hand to the sprinting beat of her heart and willed it to slow down.

  Chapter 41

  Ryaan put her hands around the mug of black coffee and looked around. The diner Hal had chosen for their coffee date was only three blocks from the station. Although Ryaan had driven by it dozens of times, she’d never been inside. It was mostly empty at this hour. The Friday lunch rush—if there was a lunch rush—had passed and what remained was a collage of San Francisco characters. A homeless man sat eating beside a window, keeping a close eye on his shopping cart of worldly belongings parked on the sidewalk out front. Two big black women talked to each other across the table in voices as large as they were, punctuated by outbursts like “You know it, girl” and “He deserves an ass kicking for that. An ass kicking.” Ryaan had aunts who talked like that. Maybe her mother had been boisterous once upon a time, too, but not that Ryaan could remember. An older man was hunched in the booth beside them, wearing a set of old-style headphones and eating what looked like apple pie. Beside his plate was a Walkman.

  Across the table, Hal added a third creamer to his coffee and stirred it. “Hope it’s okay. I’m not really a Starbucks guy.”

  Ryaan leaned back against the red vinyl, shifting to move off a sharp crack on the seat. “It’s perfect.” Mostly it was just nice to get away from the station where she’d spent the morning on the case against Aaron Pollack.

  Hal laughed and leaned across the table. “You obviously haven’t tried the coffee yet.”

  “I haven’t, but I probably don’t need any more coffee anyway. Not after this week.”

  Hal nodded. “I hear you. About time for a drink to celebrate.”

  It was hard to believe it was over. Case resolutions were often less than satisfying, but she couldn’t remember one as disappointing as this. “Doesn’t feel over. I guess I should be happy.”

  “What’s the name of the guy they arrested?”

  “Aaron Pollack.”

  “I’ve never even heard of him,” Hal said.

  “Me, neither. Guy’s a crime scene guy.”

  “Computers, right?”

  Ryaan nodded.

  “Kind of anticlimactic.”

  “It really is.”

  “Maybe we should have gone out for a drink instead,” Hal suggested.

  Ryaan looked up. “You mean this is anticlimactic?”

  “No,” Hal said quickly. “Did you?”

  “No. I meant the case. I guess it hasn’t sunk in yet.” Ryaan thought about the Internal Affairs guys who swept in. “It’s like that when it’s internal.”

  “They kind of cut you out,” Hal said.

  “Makes me feel like it’s not over.”

  “But it is?”

  Ryaan looked up as the realization set in. “Actually, I don’t honestly know. The paperwork Mei found locked in Aaron’s desk included details about the Oyster Point case and the shooting at her house, so he’s obviously involved. We know he was using his police access to feed information to a company in Silicon Valley.”

  “Feed them what?”

  “Security information, from what I heard,” Ryaan explained.

  “Like weapons security?” Hal asked.

  “No like where data has been accessed, wh
ere cases uncover valuable resources.”

  “Resources?”

  “Like the guns at Oyster Point as well as ongoing case information. Leverage to help them sell security packages. I don’t understand all of it.”

  Hal’s eyes narrowed. “Can Mei see him killing those two guys and lighting the place on fire?”

  Ryaan shrugged. “I don’t know if she feels like she sees anything clearly right now. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

  “Well, I guess it will all come out eventually,” Hal said. “Just have to wait, right? It’s the same thing with the double murder. Internal has taken that over, too.”

  “You think those guys will solve it?”

  Hal shrugged. “Usually they come to us eventually. They can’t solve it themselves. Homicide—like Triggerlock—isn’t about sorting through a bunch of paperwork. You’ve got to get out on the streets and get dirty. Internal Affairs isn’t really good at that, you know?”

  “So basically they’re stalling the whole thing?” Ryaan asked. “They are cutting us out until they can prove we’re not involved and then they’ll pass it back?”

  Hal sighed. “That’s usually how it works.”

  Ryaan felt herself grow angry. “That’s bullshit. And what about Mei? If Aaron has a partner out there, then she’s still in danger.”

  “Hailey said the same thing,” Hal told her. “She made Captain Marshall promise to keep a patrol car on Mei until they wrap up all the loose ends.”

  The waitress came back to top off their coffees but both mugs were still full. “Can I get you a piece of pie or anything?”

  “Not for me, thanks,” Hal told her. “Ryaan?”

  “No thanks.”

  With a smile, the waitress left their ticket on the table and walked away.

  “I feel like I need to do something,” Ryaan said.

  “What can you do?”

  “I’ve followed up on every lead. We’ve got phone records from all of them. All burner phones, and we’ve traced all the numbers. I got a call from the city records to trace the owner of the warehouse where the fire happened. There’s been no claim for insurance, which is odd, so we assume it’s being leased by the owner.”

  “Who owns it?”

  “MCOMEND is the name. It’s an LLC. The general manager of the LLC is a guy named Joseph Bullock, but that got me nowhere. I ran his record. He’s clean. He hasn’t renewed his driver’s license since ‘96. No credit. It’s like he fell off the earth.”

  Hal was staring at her, frowning.

  “What?”

  He pulled a small black notebook from his jacket pocket and opened it on the table.

  “Hal?”

  Flipping pages, he seemed not to hear her. “I got a message from the office at St. James Church yesterday,” he said finally without looking up.

  Ryaan nodded. “Yes. Hailey told us at the Rookie Club dinner last night.”

  “Did she mention the woman who heads up the soup kitchen for the homeless there?”

  “Yeah, Pollack. That’s how Mei made the connection to Aaron Pollack.”

  “But the guy said her name was either Pollack or Bullock.” Hal found what he was looking for. He spun the notebook so it was facing Ryaan. His finger was pressed into the center of one page. Under it, she could clearly see two names: Pollack? Bullock?

  Ryaan stared at the names. “So maybe it wasn’t Pollack. Maybe the name was Bullock.”

  Hal raised his eyebrows.

  “But I searched the system for Bullock. I couldn’t find any current records on a Joseph Bullock,” Ryaan said.

  “You Google him?” Hal asked.

  Ryaan looked up. “What?”

  “Did you Google the guy?”

  Ryaan started to laugh but Hal shook his head. With a straight face, he said, “I use Google all the time.”

  “Hal, there are not a lot of gun dealers on Google.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Hal said. “Anyone with a Facebook page or a Tweet account or whatever it’s called, they’re all on Google. I Google everyone.”

  Ryaan smiled.

  “Seriously. Ev-ry-one,” he said again.

  Ryaan raised an eyebrow at Hal. “Did you Google me?”

  “Of course,” he said, staring at his hands. “Most of the hits on your name are about the department.”

  Ryaan reached across the table and hit his hand. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  Hal’s face sobered. “I read about your brothers.”

  Ryaan sank into the booth. “That’s on there, huh?”

  “It’s not like Ryaan is a very common name spelled with two A’s.”

  Ryaan pushed her coffee cup aside. “Right.”

  “Shoot, Ryaan. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect something like that,” Hal told her. “I was kind of hoping to see a picture of you with a prom date or something.”

  Ryaan imagined Hal looking for old pictures of her. Who else had Googled her and learned about Darryl and Antoine. The Internet was a scary place. “It’s actually easier than having to tell you myself,” she said.

  “Is that why you chose Triggerlock?”

  “I guess.” To have something to do with her hands, Ryaan drank a sip of her coffee. She grimaced. “This is awful!”

  “Told you,” Hal said.

  Ryaan used a napkin to wipe off her tongue and took a sip of water. “You didn’t say it with enough conviction.”

  Hal pulled his iPhone out of his coat pocket. “So, what’s the guy’s name?”

  “Joseph Bullock.”

  Hal stood and came around to her side of the booth. Ryaan moved in to give him room. He sat so their arms were touching. She felt a little flush of heat.

  “Okay, searching for Joseph Bullock.” A moment later he scanned the results. “Here’s a Joseph Bullock CPA in Lincoln, Nebraska.”

  “Probably not our guy.”

  Hal nodded and started to type again. His fingers were so big he kept hitting the wrong letter and having to back up.

  “You need some help?” she asked.

  “Nah. I’m used to it now. This is actually fast for me. How about we search for Joseph Bullock California?” After a few more errors, he managed to type it in and hit search.

  Hal had a response in two or three seconds. He handed Ryaan the phone. “You scroll through. It’ll go faster.” With that, he put his arm around the back of the booth so they could both see the screen.

  “An attorney in Burbank, California.”

  “Try it.”

  Ryaan hit the link and they landed on Joe Bullock’s page. An attorney for Creative Artists. “What’s an entertainment attorney?”

  “Movie stars, I think,” Ryaan said. She pulled up the picture of a young blond Tom Cruise-looking guy. “Doesn’t look like he’d own a building in Bernal Heights.”

  “Try searching under the news option instead of the regular search,” Hal said. “It’s under that little drop down arrow.”

  “You’re good at this.”

  “I was serious when I said I Google everyone.”

  Ryaan hit the news button. The first article that came up was dated October 4th, 1996. Bay Area Geneticist Paralyzed in Life-Threatening Stroke. Hal whistled as Ryaan hit the link to a San Francisco Chronicle article.

  Ryaan read it aloud, “Dr. Joseph Bullock, head researcher at Mendelcom,” Ryaan halted.

  “Mendelcom,” Hal repeated.

  “That’s one of the companies that was broken into.” Ryaan skimmed the article. “Bullock was in the midst of filing a suit against his company when he suffered a massive stroke.” She read to the end of the article. “There’s mention of what happened to him. October 4, 1996. This was almost twenty years ago.”

  “I wonder where he is now.” Hal pointed to the phone. “Goo
gle Joseph Bullock Mendelcom wife. Sometimes another article will mention the wife.”

  Ryaan typed almost as badly as Hal had and her fingers were half the size.

  “It’s not easy is it?” he teased, nudging her shoulder.

  “Shut up,” she said.

  A follow-up article was published two months after the original. “Barbara Bullock,” Ryaan said. “Looks like they placed him at the South Bay Stroke Center. The name makes it sound sort of spa-ish.”

  “I doubt it is.” Hal reached over to zoom in on the article. “There’s a daughter, too. Josephine. The woman at St. James was Jo. Short for Josephine?”

  Ryaan felt a little buzz. It was some combination of a new lead in the case and Hal’s proximity. “Brilliant, Hal,” she said, leaning into him.

  Hal chuckled and she felt the vibration in her own chest. “Now let’s find out where that center is.”

  Ryaan searched the center. “They’re in Menlo Park, but that was twenty years ago. He’s probably dead by now.”

  “Not necessarily,” Hal said. “I’ve got nothing better to do. Go on and call them. I’ll text Hailey and let her know we might have a lead. She can contact Mei.”

  Ryaan pulled out her own phone and dialed the number.

  “Good afternoon. Thank you for calling the South Bay Stroke Center,” came a man’s voice. “How may I direct your call?”

  “This is Inspector Ryaan Berry of the San Francisco Police Department. I’m trying to locate a patient of yours named Joseph Bullock.”

  “Hold on one minute, Officer, and I’ll get you over to records.”

  Beside her, Hal was talking to the station. “Can you run a search on Barbara and Josephine Bullock? Barbara would be roughly sixty and Josephine maybe in her thirties.” Hal looked at her for confirmation. She nodded.

  “Records.”

  Ryaan introduced herself again and asked about Bullock.

  “If he was admitted in 1996, he’ll be in the computerized records. But I can’t release any information on a patient without a warrant.”

  Ryaan recognized the line. “Listen, I’ve got two unsolved murders and twenty high-capacity weapons loose in the city. Somehow, it’s leading me to Bullock and I don’t know if that means someone’s trying to kill Bullock or if he’s trying to kill someone.”