Web of Shadows

by Susan Sleeman

  He fled the room like he was evading a marauding insurgent group in a third-world country. He set the bottle on the countertop and planted his hands on the cool granite. He really didn’t want another beer. The one he had was curdling in his stomach, but he’d had to get away from her to stop these ridiculous urges. Stop them now or walk out the front door and leave her alone, despite his certainty that trouble was brewing.

  That he wouldn’t do. He’d be staying until he knew, for sure, that everything was okay. He didn’t run from trouble. Even if it was the two-legged kind who got his heart racing with a simple look.

  OUTSIDE HAMID’S hotel room, Wiley retrieved Hamid’s phone and carefully settled it in his tote bag next to Hamid’s remote bedside transmitter for his ICD. Remembering his late-night trip to Hamid’s house to steal it made Wiley smile. As did the trail he’d left leading to Brandt. He’d easily modified the transmitter to deliver the right jolt, but then . . . oh yes, then . . . he’d used her bogus phone to search for internet instructions on how to kill someone using a transmitter. Simple. Now, when he left this phone for the Feds, they would think she’d committed murder.

  A rush of excitement shot through him as he ducked into the vending-machine alcove. He used Brandt’s phone to log on to the hotel’s computer network and access the fire alarm system. He tapped the screen a few times. Saved the change and voila, the alarm couldn’t be silenced without the security company’s help.

  Showtime.

  He pressed the activate button. The speakers instantly wailed, and lights flashed above doors. He stared for a moment, taking in the chaos. His heart beating hard, he grabbed the transmitter and perched his finger over the button. He waited for Hamid to come barreling into the hallway escorted by his FBI goons. Tyler’s door flew open. The agent in charge rushed Tyler and his mother toward the stairwell.

  Wiley fixed his gaze on Hamid’s door. Excited. Waiting.

  “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Wiley whispered. “Get out here already or Tyler will be long gone and miss the excitement.”

  The door opened. The burly agent stepped out to scan the hallway. After a quick nod to the other agent, he turned back. “Come on, Mrs. Ahmadi. This is most likely a false alarm, but we need to go.”

  Hamid’s mother, her expression anxious, came to the doorway, looking as if she didn’t want to leave.

  Wiley waited for Hamid. Yes. Hamid would exit next. Wiley would hit the button, and Hamid would drop.

  “I can’t go.” Mrs. Ahmadi’s voice was shrill. “Not now. Not without knowing where my son is.”

  Hamid gone? What in the world?

  The agent planted his feet. “I need you to calm down, ma’am. We’ll find Hamid. There’s no reason to believe he’s in any danger. With your help, we can locate him. I’ll bet he just snuck out to visit a friend.”

  “Hamid isn’t very social. He has only one friend. Lance. I don’t know his last name or his address. How will we find him?”

  “Do they go to school together?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll locate him easy enough. Right now, we need to evacuate.” The agent took her arm, urging her forward.

  Wiley squeezed into a space beside the machine to hide, his mind spinning. Hamid was in the wind. Not something Wiley counted on. Which meant Plan B. Or C or whatever plan he was on now.

  First step was to find the little bugger. His mother believed Lance was Hamid’s only friend, but what about Mike, who’d posted on the Hacktivist site? He had to be a friend, too, and Wiley suspected he was the best choice if Hamid was hiding from his mother. Plus Mike knew about the missing computer. That could mean he’d posted because Hamid was with him and asked Mike to post the request.

  Wiley let out a sigh of relief. Thanks to the post, Wiley had Mike’s contact information and finding Hamid was a mere hiccup to overcome.

  Wiley waited for a few more minutes, then took the stairs to the parking lot. Guests stood in pajamas and robes, looking angry. He’d caused this chaos and wanted to enjoy it, but finding Hamid was more important.

  Wiley shot over to Brandt’s house and typed a text on his phone for Mike. I have the computer Ham wants. Need to set up a meeting to give it back.

  Mike responded immediately. Ham’s here. He wants you to bring the computer over ASAP.

  “Yes.” Wiley shot a fist up. He had Hamid’s location, but there was no way Wiley would show up at Mike’s house. He also wouldn’t reveal where he intended to meet Hamid. That would be just plain stupid. Mike could be the kind of guy who saw himself as a hero and showed up to surprise them.

  Sorry, Wiley typed. No can do without talking to Ham first. Have him call me.

  Wiley sat back to wait for his phone to ring. Time ticked by. Slowly. When it didn’t ring, Wiley’s concern started mounting. Maybe he’d pushed the punk too hard. Scared him off when he’d asked him to talk. Still, the kid was desperate.

  Wiley started counting. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

  The ringer pealed. Wiley grinned and held back from answering. He didn’t want to seem overly eager.

  On the fifth ring, he answered casually. “Yo, Ham.”

  “Who is this?” Suspicion was rampant in his voice.

  “I’d rather not say, you know. On account of not wanting to get involved in this FBI thing you’ve got going on. I’m a Hacktivist, though. I know you, man. So don’t sweat it. Met you at a Meetup a few years back.”

  “Okay.” He still sounded uncertain.

  “Look, man. I want to help you out, but I can’t get jammed up with your stuff. No way I’m getting caught with the computer. So, if you want it under my terms, fine. If not, I can dispose of it. Like today.”

  “We can meet,” Hamid said hastily. “Can you text a picture of the machine to me so I know you really have it?”

  “Don’t have it with me, but I can describe it.” Wiley rattled off the computer specifications.

  “Where do you want to meet?”

  That was the exact question Wiley hoped the kid would ask. “How about where you hid the cache? That way, you can be sure it’s me, since I’m the only one who knows where the computer was found. Deal?”

  “Okay. When?”

  Wiley wanted to shout, Now! He no longer needed the kid alive and wanted to take care of this bit of business so he could go back to focusing on the hack. But he had to figure out a way to lure Brandt to Hamid’s execution, so she could take the fall. It might take some time to pull that off. He’d better wait until tomorrow. It was dicey waiting another day, but then, the kid was hiding out from everyone, and he wouldn’t post about the computer again since Wiley admitted to possessing it.

  “Can’t do it today,” he said. “How about tomorrow? Around 4:00.”

  “Fine.”

  “Come alone, kid. I’ll be watching. If you bring anyone, even this Mike dude, I’m bailing. Got it?”

  “Yeah.” His rebellious tone bothered Wiley.

  “Look, kid, I hear your attitude. If you really want to see this machine again, you best get over whatever’s bothering you. ’Cause I spook real easy if you get my drift.”

  “I got it.” He sounded sincere. “I’ll come alone and be there at four.”

  “See that you do. Make sure you’re on time. I’m not waiting around.” With that warning, Wiley ended the call and wondered if he could trust the kid.

  Not that he had a choice.

  BECCA HAD VISITED PPB’s offices many times, but she’d never been to the Forensic Science Division. Not to their fingerprint area or the media room where she now waited while a very capable technician named Wally loaded video files. He appeared to be in his late fifties. His dark hair was messy, as if he’d run his fingers through it in frustration, which she supposed came with the job. On one computer, he opened traffic-cam videos fro
m down the street from the Youngs’ house. On the second one, he loaded surveillance footage from the home across the street from the Youngs. Then he stepped back.

  “If you have any questions, just holler.” He returned to his computer at the end of a long table.

  Becca stepped to the second computer and took a seat on a tall stool, not giving Connor a chance to choose between the two. “I’ll review the neighbor’s file.”

  “Guess that leaves me the traffic cams then.” He sounded less than happy, which Becca understood. Watching hours of traffic footage could be even more tedious than the job she faced, reviewing the wee hours of the night where there would be little to nothing to see.

  She started the video for the night Hamid said he’d stolen the computer from Bryce’s car and leaned her elbow on the table. The night of the break-in was dark. No moon. Fortunately, a streetlight sat near the end of the Youngs’ driveway, illuminating Bryce’s older Toyota parked on the street in front of his house. The video rolled past, and she found herself having a hard time keeping her focus on the screen and not checking on Connor.

  She finally gave in and turned, but the lab’s door swung open, catching her attention.

  The fingerprint tech she’d met when she dropped off Hamid’s prints poked his head around the door, then stepped inside and held the door ajar. “We have a match.”

  Becca paused her video and looked at the lanky guy with hunched shoulders, likely from pouring over prints all day.

  “Definite match?” Connor asked.

  “Yes. His ridges are clearly the same arch pattern you lifted from the car. As you know, it’s a less common fingerprint type but the easiest to identify. I’ll get an official report to you by morning, but thought you’d like a heads up.” He stepped back and let the door close behind him.

  Connor looked at Becca. “So Hamid touched Young’s car. That doesn’t prove it happened the night of the break-in, though.”

  Becca gestured at the computer. “Which is why we need to keep watching the videos.” She focused on her screen again and settled in. She was getting cross-eyed by the time action appeared on the screen.

  “Got something here,” she said and sat forward to get a better look at the timestamp.

  Connor came to stand behind her, close enough for her to feel his warmth and catch his unique scent again.

  Though hyperaware of him standing behind her, she turned her attention to her screen and enlarged the video that revealed a male about the same height and build as Hamid approaching Young’s car with a tire iron in his hand. “Could be him, but I’m not positive.”

  “Too bad he parked his car out of view of the camera.”

  “Maybe we’ll get a better look when he leaves.”

  The kid rested his hand on the window and peered inside.

  “Bingo,” Connor said. “That’s where we recovered Hamid’s print.”

  The kid stepped back, and turning his face away, he smashed the window. He opened the door and grabbed a computer bag from the back seat then charged down the street.

  “Looks like Hamid’s telling the truth,” Connor said.

  Becca nodded, but her phone rang, grabbing her attention.

  “I need to take this. It’s Kait.” Becca paused the video to answer.

  Connor returned to his stool.

  “Hamid’s taken off,” Kait said, without a greeting.

  “He’s what?” Becca’s voice shot up, grabbing Connor’s attention.

  “He vanished, right under Agent Yeager’s nose,” Kait continued. “He believes Hamid exited via his bedroom window and broke his fall on a canopy. Yeager didn’t even know the kid was gone until the fire alarm went off and they had to evacuate.”

  “There was a fire alarm around the time Hamid took off? Sounds too coincidental to me.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s why I’m calling. Sulyard wants you to head over to the hotel to work the scene. PPB officers have responded to the call, so Sulyard wants you take Connor with you as a liaison.”

  “Got it.” After disconnecting, Becca glanced at Connor. “You up for a road trip?”

  “With you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course,” he answered, without asking where they were going.

  She told him about Kait’s call, in case he somehow mistook her question and thought this was personal in nature. “I could use your help in smoothing the way.”

  He stood and gestured at the door. They took his car, and she fielded calls and texts on the drive, giving them no time to talk. In the hotel parking lot, they found guests milling around, three patrol cars, and a fire truck with firefighters loading up to depart. Their chief was talking to a PPB officer.

  Connor parked and they went straight to the officer and fire chief, who held his helmet in his hand and had unbuttoned his turnout coat.

  Connor introduced Becca to the young officer and the wrinkled and wizened-looking chief.

  “Since when does the FBI respond to a fire alarm?” the chief asked, watching her carefully.

  “We have reason to believe this could be related to an ongoing investigation,” Becca replied.

  The chief shook his head. “More likely a kid pulling a prank.”

  “So it was a false alarm?” Connor asked.

  The chief nodded. “A station was pulled on the second floor.”

  Becca looked at Connor. “Same floor as our rooms.”

  “Exactly,” Connor said. And without another word, they pivoted and matched each other’s stride, step for step, as they hurried inside to investigate.

  Chapter Twenty

  NINA’S DOORBELL rang at six the next morning, startling her upright from her yoga pose. Hamid had disappeared from the hotel last night, and Becca had immediately called to tell Nina about it. She’d spent the night worrying about him and hoped yoga would provide some tranquility before she headed into work. A surprise visitor didn’t help.

  She peered through the peephole to find Quinn, freshly showered and tapping his foot. She ran a hand over her hair and tugged the door open. “Why are you here?”

  “Thought I’d see how you were doing before you went to work.” He brushed past her without an invitation. “Any progress on the Hacktivist list?”

  “Nothing positive, but I did eliminate a few people.” She closed the door to keep the cold out, but remained nearby. Things had gone so well between them last night, making her want more of the same. She couldn’t trust herself to keep him at arm’s length and had no intention of letting him stay.

  “Yoga?” He nodded at her mat on the floor. “Since when did you start doing that?”

  “You make it sound like a dirty word.”

  “I don’t have time for all that zen relaxation stuff.” He mocked a shiver. “Better to fix your problem instead of trying to find a way to avoid it.”

  “So that’s what you think I’m doing? Avoiding?”

  He shrugged.

  Her irritation started to rise. “Do you have a purpose for your visit, other than to make me mad?”

  “Mad? That little comment made you mad? My ever-patient Southern belle?” He grinned.

  His? “Okay, I don’t mind being called a belle, but I won’t ignore being called your anything.”

  His smile fell, and he ran a hand over his clean-shaven face. “I’m not sure how I put my foot in my mouth so many times in less than five minutes. If I apologize for all of it, can we start over?”

  He sounded so contrite that her irritation evaporated. “I’m at fault, too. I’m still frustrated by being sent home yesterday. Not knowing what’s really going on is making me grouchy.” She took a deep breath. “So why are you here?”

  “I wanted to ask if you want Ty to come into the office today. And I thought I’d check to see if Hamid’
s been found.”

  “You know about Hamid?”

  He nodded. “I ran into Becca last night when I got back to the hotel. She told me about him.”

  “There’s no sign of him yet.” She shook her head. “Taking off like that was such as stupid thing for him to do. Now it’ll seem like he has something to hide. Maybe make people think he has a terrorist connection. At the very least, the DA will see him as uncooperative and press charges.”

  “Which might not bode well for Ty. It seems like helping DHS find the vulnerability is even more important for him to do now.”

  “I don’t know if Sulyard still wants Ty to help out, but I’ll ask when I get into the office.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Quinn’s gaze shot to the door. His eyes were deadly intense. “You expecting company?”

  “No. It’s probably Becca or Kait with news about Hamid.”

  “Wouldn’t they call or text first?” He lifted the hem of his shirt revealing a holstered gun.

  “You’re carrying?” she asked.

  “The hotel fire alarm has me spooked.”

  His reaction seemed excessive and made her uneasy as she went to the door to check the peephole for the second time that morning.

  “What in the world?” She blinked hard, then blinked again to clear her vision. Her visitor still stood there. She stepped back while her mind ran through the possibilities of why he’d visit her at home.

  “Who is it?” Quinn asked.

  “Sulyard.” She didn’t want to let him in, but she doubted he’d go away. If she did let him in, he might see the Hacktivist file she’d spread across her dining table. She ran into the room and started grabbing up her research. The doorbell rang again.

  “Help,” she said to Quinn. “We need to hide this stuff.”

  He stacked a pile of papers. “What’s he doing here anyway?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” She inserted the last of the pages into a folder and shoved it all into her tote bag before starting for the door. “Sit down. Turn on the TV. Make it look like we’re hanging out.”

  He eyed her for a second, then pulled her against him and kissed her. Hard and long. Her senses flared to life, and she didn’t try to pull away. When he released her, he ruffled her hair messing it up even more.