Another green screen appeared, and Seth entered two passcodes this time. “I read your series,” he said without looking up from the screen.
“Which one?”
“The exposé about the police officers. The vice squad.”
She’d had a feeling that was the one he meant. Last summer she’d written a series uncovering a scheme in which several officers were taking payoffs from drug dealers in order to look the other way. Two officers lost their jobs. Meanwhile, Bailey and her co-author got nominated for a journalism award. The other reporter ended up landing a job at the Los Angeles Times, and Bailey was tapped to cover the crime beat full-time.
“It wasn’t the entire squad,” she told Seth, not sure why she felt the need to defend the police department. “Just two officers, and they were fired after an investigation.”
Seth lifted an eyebrow. “You know what they say about bad apples.”
The computer screen switched to a water background with various icons on it.
“Okay, here we are.” He checked his watch again and cast a furtive glance over his shoulder. Then he scooted forward in his chair.
“This is it. Granite Tech’s crown jewel.” He clicked open a file. A cascade of numbers appeared on the screen. “It’s called Ruby.”
Bailey watched as the numbers scrolled. “Is it a spreadsheet?”
“A database.” He looked at her.
“A database of what?”
“Several years ago, we embarked on an effort to amass the largest faceprint database in the world.”
“Faceprints.”
He nodded. “Each unique record is represented by a numeric code. We have more than a billion records.”
Bailey looked at the screen. “I would think the FBI would have the biggest database. Or NSA.”
“You’d think, wouldn’t you?”
“Are you saying—”
“No, you’re right. Of course they do. But ours is private. That’s key.” He leaned back in his chair. “All that stuff Lucinda told you about background checks and document security? That’s crap.” He nodded at the screen. “This is the engine driving our business.”
“Faceprints?”
“Think about it.” He sat forward eagerly. “We collect information about where people spend time, who they spend time with, where they spend money. Think of how valuable that information is.”
“And this information is being monetized?”
“Absolutely.” He tapped into a new screen. “We break it down by age group whenever possible. Look at this. This is our largest tranche of records, and it’s eighteen-to-thirty-four-year-olds—a coveted consumer group. We have three hundred fifty million faceprints in that age bracket alone.”
“Where did you get them?”
“We started with driver’s license databases and built out from there. Not all jurisdictions will share the data, but some have, willingly or unwillingly, and we built on that foundation.”
“Unwillingly? Are you saying some images were stolen?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know that for sure, but I can speculate. We somehow managed to amass a shit-ton of records in the last two years, and Lucinda’s been vague about specifics.”
He leaned forward again and tapped into a new file. Another long list of numbers popped up. “This is our second-largest tranche. We have more than two hundred sixty million minor faceprints.”
“Minor as in—”
“Individuals under eighteen. These kids can’t even vote yet, and their images are being collected and cataloged and sold to marketers.”
“Where did you get them all?”
“Some are driver’s license photos or passport images. But given the age, a lot more of these come from cams in the wild. Those are surveillance images. Parks, shopping malls, sporting venues. Pictures posted on social media.”
“Social media platforms hand over these images?”
“There are ways to get them. And we have.” He nodded. “This collection is growing every day as we amass more and more images.”
Bailey looked at the computer screen, where numbers scrolled. She felt dizzy. And slightly sick, too. Seth tapped the mouse and made the scrolling stop.
“You’re telling me you’ve collected more than two hundred sixty million images of children. Without their knowledge.”
“That’s right.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.
“But why would . . .” Bailey looked at the screen. Something niggled at her. Something Seth was trying to tell her, but not telling her.
Her skin chilled as realization dawned. “Oh my God.” She turned to Seth. “She’s looking for her daughter.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
HE NODDED.
“So . . . she got her company to undertake this project as part of a personal quest?”
He nodded again.
Bailey shook her head, dazed by the implications.
“At first, I didn’t know,” Seth said. “About a year into it, I started to have my suspicions. But by then, the company was making money hand over fist, and there was no stopping it. We started to vacuum up more and more images from more and more places, and the whole thing gained momentum.”
“I assume what they’re doing is illegal?”
He made a pained face. “That’s a gray area. I mean, some things definitely would be, such as hacking into state DMV databases and stealing records. But I don’t have any proof of that. It’s definitely unethical, which is why there’s so much secrecy surrounding the project. Very few people working here even know about Ruby, even though the project’s success is funding their paychecks.”
“No one knows?”
“A few people have to know, but I haven’t figured out who they are. Lucinda has the whole thing walled off.”
“And you’re sure she’s the one running this?”
“Absolutely. Bailey, she’s obsessed. I’m telling you, she’ll do anything—break any law, rationalize any consequence— if there’s even the slightest chance that what she’s doing will locate her daughter. Lucinda is convinced Avery was kidnapped by a pedophile, and she believes Avery’s alive somewhere. She latched on to that idea years ago, and she’s never given up hope. But she’s desperate. Which means she’s the last person who should have control over the biometric records of millions of people.”
“Why is it called Ruby?” she asked. “Is that someone’s name?”
“Not that I know of. Lucinda came up with that. I’ve always thought it was a reference to The Wizard of Oz.”
Bailey looked at the screen. “The ruby slippers,” she murmured. “‘There’s no place like home.’”
“Exactly. Like I said, this is deeply personal to her, and she thinks it will bring her daughter back. It’s a mission now, and nothing else matters. Not laws or ethics or even the long-term future of the company. She’s consumed with this project and has been for years.” He glanced over Bailey’s shoulder. “Oh, shit. Don’t turn around.”
Her heart skittered. “What’s wrong?”
He turned toward the computer and clicked out of the screen. “Don’t turn around. Levon’s here. I didn’t know he was in tonight. If he’s here, that means Lucinda might be, too.”
Seth clicked into a browser and tapped some words into a search engine. The Granite Tech website popped up and he clicked into a generic press release.
Bailey’s pulse thrummed as she stared at the screen. Would Levon notice them in here? And if he did, would he recognize her? Her hair was down tonight, as it had been when she met him yesterday afternoon.
Seth glanced over his shoulder and let out a sigh. “He’s gone.” He dug his phone from his pocket and started texting.
“What are you doing?”
“Asking Garrett what he wanted with
him. He’s the guy with the ponytail we passed coming in here.”
Bailey took a deep breath. Her palms felt clammy, and she rubbed them on her dress.
“Shit. She’s here. She’s going over her presentation for the board meeting on Monday. And Levon noticed me.” He looked at Bailey. “When Lucinda hears I’m in, she’ll probably ping me to come talk to her. Or come looking for me.” He unclipped his badge from his belt. “You have to leave. Go back the way we came. My badge will get you through the doors. I’ll meet you in the parking garage.”
“But—”
“Crap, here’s a message now.” He looked at a text on his phone and stood up. “I have to go. I’ll give her some excuse and then come find you. It shouldn’t take long.”
He moved away, and Bailey grabbed his arm. “You can’t just leave me in a restricted area,” she said. “What if I get caught?”
“Use my badge. You’ll be fine. We’ve got twenty more minutes until the security system is back up again, so you should be good.”
He rushed out the door, leaving her alone in the dim computer room. She watched him cut through the maze of cubicles and exit a different door than the one they’d come through. The ponytail guy—Garrett—didn’t look up from his screen.
Cursing, she got up and shoved her purse under her arm. Even with the hoodie, she felt conspicuous in her short black dress and strappy heels. Her heart hammered and her palms felt sweaty, but she squared her shoulders and tried to look confident as she crossed through the computer lab to the door she’d come through with Seth. She spotted the little panel by the door and realized she needed his ID to get out, too. She swiped the badge, and her nerves did a little dance as a tiny light turned green.
She stepped into the stairwell, which seemed dark and foreboding now that she was here alone. She went down a flight. This door didn’t have a panel, so she tried the knob and found it unlocked.
“That’s right. Tomorrow.”
Lucinda. Bailey’s heart lurched as she recognized the voice on the other side of the door. She was talking to someone in the hall or talking on the phone. Either way, Bailey had to get out of there. She glanced up at the door she’d just come through.
Up or down?
Bailey hurried down. As she reached the landing, a door opened above her. Bailey’s stomach flip-flopped. Someone was in the stairwell now. Bailey grabbed the railing and raced down another flight, praying her shoes wouldn’t make noise.
“I don’t want to hear it.” Lucinda’s voice echoed off the walls as she walked up the stairs. “Just make sure it gets done.”
Bailey went down, down, down, flight after flight, keeping her footsteps as quiet as possible. A door above her opened and closed, and she hoped it meant Lucinda had gone.
The stairwell went silent, and Bailey rushed down another flight and another, round and round until she felt dizzy and wobbly on her damn high heels. Finally, she reached the bottom.
She halted.
Would this be the parking garage? She and Seth had gone through a long corridor to reach the stairwell, so she wasn’t in the same part of the building where she’d entered originally.
Somewhere above her, a door opened again. Bailey’s pulse jumped. She fled through the door in front of her and found herself in a dim corridor with cinder-block walls. Where was the parking garage? The only light came from the red glow of a distant EXIT sign. Bailey turned around and tried the door behind her but it was locked now.
“Shit.”
She glanced up and down the corridor and hurried for the exit. Her heart pounded as she reached a corner where the corridor opened up into what looked like a maintenance room filled with HVAC equipment. A maze of pipes and ducts crisscrossed the ceiling. A door slammed, and Bailey jumped back. She waited, heart thudding, her back pressed against the wall. What if she was trapped down here? Slowly, she peered around the corner in time to see a man in gray coveralls slip through a doorway.
Bailey made a dash for the EXIT sign. No keypad on this door, thankfully. She reached for the handle, then hesitated. What if an alarm sounded? Hopefully, an interior door wouldn’t have one. Holding her breath, she pushed through the door.
Relief rushed through her as she found herself in a parking garage.
None of the cars looked familiar, though. She saw a white Mercedes, a yellow Fiat. She spied a concrete ramp on the far end of the space. Maybe there was another level? She hadn’t counted the flights of stairs on her way down here.
Bailey cast a nervous look around as she race-walked across the garage. The warm air smelled of dust and diesel fuel. Glancing around, she spied an eyeball-shaped camera mounted at the top of one of the concrete pillars. Her stomach knotted. She hoped the system was still down, as Seth had said.
She race-walked past the Mercedes and the Fiat and hurried up the ramp. She passed a concrete pillar, and on the far end of the next level were the three SUVs she recognized, and now a silver pickup truck, too.
Where was Seth’s car?
She spied another eyeball-shaped camera. It moved.
Panic shot through her. Bailey quickened her steps. Had Seth left her? She had no phone or way to communicate. No one even knew she was here right now—not her editor, not Nico, not Jacob. She hadn’t told anyone she was coming here, and she realized now how careless that was. She passed another concrete pillar, and the back of Seth’s car came into view beyond the pickup. Bailey’s breath whooshed out with relief.
Behind her, a noise.
She lurched behind a pillar. She held her breath and strained to listen, but the garage was silent.
A rumble started in the distance—an air conditioner maybe, or some other heavy equipment. She listened to the mechanical sound and tried to make out any other noise. Nothing.
Bailey rushed toward Seth’s car. Where the hell was he? Her skin chilled at the thought of waiting down here all alone, for who knew how long.
Footsteps.
She darted behind another pillar, panting this time because she knew she hadn’t been mistaken. Someone was down here.
She cast a frantic look around, searching for movement or shadows. She didn’t see anyone, just rows of concrete pillars. Someone could be hiding behind any one of them.
Why hiding?
If it was just someone down here walking to their car, why hide?
Bailey’s heart hammered. She tried to think. Slowly, silently, she unzipped her purse and pulled out her key chain. She fisted her hand around the car key, letting it protrude through her fingers. Not much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing.
She listened. Nothing. Her pulse pounded. Where the hell was Seth? Was that him lurking behind her? But why would he sneak up on her?
Bailey eyed his black car, wishing it were closer. Slowly, she reached down to slip off her slingback heels, first one, then the other. She tucked one of the shoes under her arm and then held the other heel out, like a weapon.
Now she was armed with a Toyota key and a Jessica Simpson sandal. She moved to the edge of the pillar and peeked out.
Nothing.
No movement, no sound, no shadow.
Ding.
She whipped her head around as Seth stepped off the elevator. He strode toward his car, and she ran to join him.
Behind her, a metallic click. Bailey’s heart lurched.
Seth spotted her and stopped beside the BMW. “What’s wrong?”
“Go, go, go!”
He popped the locks. She raced for the car. Fire blazed up her foot as she stepped on something sharp. She didn’t stop to see what it was—she jerked open the door and jumped inside the car, throwing her shoes and purse on the floor.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Drive! There’s someone following me.”
Seth started the engine and shoved the car into gear. The BMW lunged fo
rward, and Bailey ducked low in the seat, skimming her gaze over the shadows and pillars as Seth zoomed toward the tunnel.
“Who’s following you?” he demanded. “Where?”
“I don’t know. Just go!”
He raced through the tunnel and slammed on the brakes as they reached the end. Bailey held her breath as the black door slowly lifted.
He gunned it through the opening, and Bailey felt a wave of relief to be out in the open beneath a clear night sky. She looked at the side mirror and saw the building looming behind them. An icy chill raced down her spine.
“You were supposed to take the elevator,” Seth said.
Bailey looked at her foot. It was bleeding, damn it. She unzipped her purse and searched for a tissue.
“Shit, are you okay?” he asked.
“I stepped on something.”
No tissue, so she tore a piece of paper from her notepad and used it to blot the blood. She plucked a chunk of glass from the cut.
“I heard Lucinda in the hallway,” she told him, “so I took the stairs.”
“Are you sure it was her?”
“Yes.”
“Did she see you?”
“No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. I cut through a maintenance room and found the parking garage, and then I heard someone following me.”
“Who was it?”
“I didn’t see.” Her stomach clenched as she thought of the metallic click. “Do you guys have security guards? I heard a noise, a click. Like a magazine being loaded.”
Seth cut a glance at her. “You mean like—”
“I don’t know who the hell it was, but I think they had a gun.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
JACOB MADE ONE more pass by Bailey’s building. This time her light was on. He circled the block and spotted her white Toyota parked along the street. He’d been by half an hour ago, so she must have just come home.
Jacob wedged his truck into a too-small space. He took the stairs to her apartment and knocked, struggling to tamp down his impatience as he waited for her to answer.
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