by Bryan Koepke
He went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cupboard above the sink. He went to his liquor globe and found the bottle of Breckenridge bourbon sitting on the edge where he’d left it the night before. He’d first tried the hand-crafted small batch whiskey on a business trip to New York. The man behind the bar suggested it to Karl, and it had quickly risen into his top three favorite brands of bourbon whiskey.
He poured the glass half full over a few ice cubes and brought it up for a swig. That nosey IT fellow. What is it with this guy, Valtrop? The more he thought about Valtrop wanting to look at his computer, the more agitated Karl became. He pulled his cellphone off the bar top and pressed the send button.
“Hello,” Ian Drae said
“Mr. Drae, it’s me, Karl. I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, not at all sorry for bothering the man. He needed Jim Valtrop to mind his own goddamned business.
“ What is it, Karl?”
“I just got off the phone with Jim Valtrop.”
“Yeah, so what’s so important about that?” Ian said.
“I’ve got to tell you I’m not happy with that guy. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is definitely something off about him. Can you believe he had the gall to phone me here at my home?”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Karl. I hand-picked Jim Valtrop to be the head of Information Technology. He came highly recommended,” Ian said. “There were other candidates, but he was the best.”
“What’s all this business about Valtrop wanting to check out my personal computer? I’ve wasted enough time letting him comb through the files on my work computer.”
“Valtrop is just doing his job. From what he said, if they’ve managed to hack into your personal computer, they could have a way into our network every time you log in from home,” Ian said.
That made sense, but it wasn’t the answer Karl wanted to hear. “I don’t like the idea of IT nosing their way around my home computer. It’s my personal property. I paid for it myself,” Karl said, raising his voice.
“Settle down, Rhodes. No one is interested in looking through your personal files. They’re just looking for anything out of the ordinary that could be used to gain access into the company network.”
“I’m happy to do anything I can to help those guys get to the bottom of this, but I’ve got to draw the line. My home and my personal computer are off limits. You got it?”
Chapter 15
“So tell me again why you offered to drive Marie Rhodes to Billington’s funeral,” Haisley said as he and Reece sat on her couch.
“It seemed like the right thing to do,” Reece said. “Besides, wasn’t it you that taught me that funerals are often attended by the perpetrator of the crime?”
“I suppose,” Haisley grumbled.
The doorbell rang in the distance and both men exchanged a glance, but neither got up. Reece wondered about the dead man’s funeral and why it was so important for Marie to attend. If they hit the road soon, they’d be able to make it to the funeral in London by four that afternoon.
The bell rang a second time and Reece went to answer it. As he pulled open the front door, he saw the face of a middle-aged man with thick blond hair pulled to one side. The man had bags under his bloodshot eyes.
“Reece Culver,” he said, extending a hand.
“Mr. Culver, Karl Rhodes. So I assume she wrangled you into chauffeuring her to Thomas Billington’s funeral.”
Karl walked past Reece, through the foyer, and disappeared in the interior of the home. Reece didn’t know if he was naturally rude, or he didn’t want to talk when Reece knew about his connection to Billington.
“Who was that?” Haisley said.
“Mr. Rhodes,” Reece said as he plopped back down onto the couch.
“Ah, the missing link to Billington.”
In the distance they could hear Marie and Karl talking in muffled voices. Reece strained to hear what they were saying. He got up from the couch and walked over toward the door to the kitchen, hoping he’d be in range to eavesdrop.
“What are you doing here?” Marie said in the distance. “I’ve got company.”
“Yeah, I met that cute young man you invited over,” Karl said. “To answer your question, I came to pick up our daughter.”
“You met Reece and Haisley?”
“So there’re two of them. You move fast, don’t you, darling?” Karl said.
“Oh, don’t be foolish. You’re the one who has the problem keeping his zipper closed. Where is that little slut you left me for anyway? Did you leave her handcuffed to the bed back in your London apartment, waiting for your return?” Marie said.
Reece exchanged a look with his friend Haisley, and both men smiled. The two in the other room were talking loudly now, and they didn’t have to strain to hear them firing remarks back and forth.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Karl said.
Reece heard the sound of a door slamming in the distance. He walked back over to the couch and took a seat, wondering how much longer it would be before Marie was ready.
“Can I get either of you a drink?” Rhodes said as he came out of the kitchen door, surprising both men.
“Drink?” Reece said.
“Yeah, I think I stashed a nice bottle of bourbon in the wine cart. Would you like to join me? How about you, Mr. Averton, are you thirsty?”
The man crossed the den toward the large picture window. He had a swagger and Reece realized what he’d heard earlier made sense. This was the type of guy who would have a girl stashed away.
“Ah, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us, I guess I’ll pass,” Haisley said.
“So, Mr. Rhodes,” Reece said. “How well did you know Mr. Billington?”
“Never met him, why do you ask?”
“Really? I thought he was on his way here to interview you about Draecon International,” Reece said.
“Was he?” Karl said as he picked up a full bottle of bourbon, twisted off the cap, and poured it into a highball glass half filled with ice.
“What do you suppose he wanted to talk to you about?” Haisley said.
“I’m not sure. Maybe it had to do with the breach,” Karl said.
“Breach?” Reece said.
“Sorry, I’ve probably already said too much,” Karl said, taking the glass up to his lips.
“Did you guys get hacked?” Haisley said, making eye contact with Reece.
“I guess that’s what you call it. I’ll tell you, this world is changing faster than I can keep up,” Karl said.
The man was used to keeping his cards close to his vest, Reece could tell. “So there was a computer breach at Draecon, and Thomas Billington was on his way here to talk to you about it that afternoon,” Reece said.
“Is that what you heard?” Karl said. “Well, it would have been a waste of his time. I’ve been in London all week.”
“Interesting,” Reece said, hoping the man would say more.
“Yeah, it seems like hacking computers has become the sport of choice for this younger generation,” Haisley said.
“So, you know something about it?” Karl said.
“I guess I know a little about computers,” Haisley said.
Karl finished his drink and started pouring another. “Can you believe my IT people wanted to come to my home to snoop at my personal computer? Do you think there’s a way they could get into my computer at home when I’m connected to the server at work?”
Reece’s antenna picked up the anxious tone. Why was he worried about that?
“Yeah, that’s probably pretty easy for these kind of people,” Haisley said.
“Well, I’ve got news for them. There’s no way I’m allowing them into my home.”
“I hear you there,” Haisley said.
*
Thomas Billington’s wife and her small son sat in the first row on an antique sofa covered in plush burgundy fabric. The widow’s eyes were stained with fresh tears. The boy stared at the casket, looking like he h
adn’t yet digested what was happening.
Reece had taken Marie Rhodes up on her offer to attend the dead man’s funeral. He figured the more time he spent with Marie, the more she’d relax around him, and maybe say something that would indicate her or Karl’s part in Billington’s death. He didn’t like Karl’s remark that he’d had no intention of coming up to be interviewed. Did Marie make up that part?
The men followed Marie toward the back of a small group of attendees dressed in varying shades of black who were seated in plastic chairs that had been arranged in rows behind the widow and her child. A brisk wind rattled the leaves of a nearby tree and Reece grabbed the middle of his unzipped bomber jacket pulling it closed.
“Reece, thanks for driving me. I didn’t know Thomas well, but I feel I owe it to him to be here,” Marie said.
Reece thought about what she’d just said and wondered why she made the effort to come. Did she know who was behind his death?
They took a seat. Reece was to Marie’s left with Haisley beside him.
“Poor woman, I can’t imagine burying a husband. Especially as young as Tom is— was,” Marie said.
“Did you know him well?” Haisley said.
“I only met him once in my office in town, and then a couple of phone calls,” Marie said, reaching up to wipe her eye as if she had a speck of dirt in the corner.
Reece was reminded about the documents he’d borrowed a day earlier from the dead man’s office. It would take time to dig into them and driving to London wasn’t helping.
The priest gained their attention and started into his eulogy. The turnout was small for a man so young, but then Reece thought about what he’d learned on the Internet.
Thomas Billington graduated from Boston College fifteen years earlier. He took a job for an international company right out of school, utilizing his degree in chemistry. Four years later he began writing science articles for a small paper in Connecticut and later for The New York Times. Billington moved to Scotland after his engagement to his then girlfriend Gloria. In a picture Haisley found on the Internet the previous night she looked to be in her third trimester of pregnancy. I bet he thought he did the right thing marrying and moving back to her native home, Reece thought as he listened to the buzz of his left ear. It was back again. He was concentrating on his irritating tinnitus when he felt a tap on his right shoulder.
“We should go with them and pay our respects,” Haisley said, pointing to Marie, who had gotten up and was now in line to visit with the widow.
“We didn’t even know her,” Reece said.
“No, we didn’t, but it’s the kind of thing to do. It means a lot to the survivors. Just shake her hand and smile,” Haisley said, sounding parental.
“What is he doing here?” Marie said loudly after stepping past the last row of chairs and making her way over toward the widow.
Karl Rhodes was next in line to talk to the widow. Reece kept walking toward the elevated casket, all the time watching both Marie and Karl Rhodes. He took the widow into his arms and hugged her. She put her head on his chest and long streams of tears rolled down her already reddened cheeks. The dead man’s son fell into Karl like a boy would his uncle. Reece supposed it all was fine. The man was consoling the grieving widow. But what didn’t seem fine was that he was there at all. Earlier that morning Rhodes said that he had never met Thomas Billington, yet there he was with his arms around the widow like they were old friends. Something isn’t right with all of this.
Chapter 16
The walls of the office were lined on two sides in rich mahogany shelves and held hundreds of green and red hardbacked business books. The man sat in his favorite chair sipping a freshly made bourbon and coke.
“I can’t believe this,” Alex James yelled. “I can’t believe Margaret Charles would do this to me. We’ve worked together for so long. I’ve rewarded her every chance I’ve gotten.”
Alone in the den of his large luxury condo, he stared at the laptop computer that he’d set upon his thighs. Alex pressed the right-facing triangle again, starting the video recording. It showed Margaret Charles in his uncle’s office on the seventh floor of Draecon International. The room was dark with only the light from the green shaded bankers lamp.
Her hands were on the dial of his safe. Only the three of them knew it was behind the picture. She’d been there so many times when he’d opened it, turning the knob back and forth, remembering the numbers for the combination.
Had she memorized them? Or did she write them down and save them for a time like this when she wanted to snoop with the goal of finding something, so she could use it to sabotage Draecon?
“Why now? Why Margaret? Was this possible?” Alex said softly. I’m so close at the factory. In a matter of a few weeks the drones will fly their mission and the United Kingdom will forever be changed. I’ve planned this for so long, and now Margaret gets in my way.
He took a sip of his drink. Rage boiled up within his veins. “God damned her,” he said, slamming the drink down upon the end table and in doing so spilling its contents across his lap.
Chapter 17
In the lobby of the London Hotel, Reece insisted that he pay half of the cost for the rooms. Marie had pleaded fatigue after the funeral, and he himself wasn’t looking forward to the long drive back to Tarbert.
The elevator stopped on the sixth floor of the luxurious hotel. Reece and Marie stepped out of the elevator.
“Look, I haven’t exactly been sleeping so well lately. I think I’ll just watch some sports and hit the hay.”
She looked disappointed, and he wondered momentarily if she’d had an ulterior motive suggesting they take a room for the night. Fine-looking woman, he thought as they walked down the hallway. But, he reminded himself, a woman he had no reason to trust. He still didn’t know what to make of both Rhodeses attending the funeral of what they claimed was a virtual stranger.
“623, this is you, and I’ll be in 624, just to the right,” Reece said, opening the door to Marie’s hotel room with one of the key cards.
“Very good. Sleep tight, Reece,” she said before disappearing inside her room.
Once inside his own room, he turned on the television for background noise and propped up several pillows before taking a seat on the king-sized bed. It wasn’t long until he was thinking about Thomas Billington’s death. He had to cut it out, he knew, because without a paycheck there was no reason for his snooping other than his own curiosity. He knew that the best course of action for him would be to enjoy another week’s vacation and then catch a flight back to Denver. He’d done investigative work for insurance companies and law firms in the past, and with any luck he could rustle up something new when he got back home. At least until his boss called him back to work at Caulder Space Systems. The furlough a month earlier had come to Reece as a total surprise, but his boss had said then that it was only temporary until the design team settled on their harness wiring scheme.
Reece heard the buzz of his cellphone vibrating on the nightstand.
“Hey man, what’s happening?”
“Culver, where are you at?” Haisley said.
“Well, we had a change in plans and now I’m in a fancy hotel room here in London. Where are you at?”
“Well, you probably won’t believe me if I tell you,” Haisley said.
“Try me.”
“I’m in the den of Karl Rhodes’ London apartment. I’ll tell you, this guy’s got it made,” Haisley said.
“What are you doing over in Rhodes’ place?”
“It’s funny, but he hired me. He’s spooked about some computer breach they had at Draecon. Thinks someone is trying to set him up to take a fall,” Haisley said.
Reece hung up, more puzzled than ever. If this Rhodes character had something to hide, why was he hiring Haisley? Was this some sort of feint, keeping the enemy close? Reece started to hear the tinnitus in his ear starting up, and he told himself to let it go. They must have a soccer game on somewhere, he
thought as he retrieved the TV clicker. Weren’t British people crazy about soccer?
*
An hour later Reece heard a tapping noise. He hit the mute on the remote control and listened. It was coming from the pass-through door that linked his room to Marie’s. The sound came again only this time it was louder. He went over to the door, twisted the deadbolt lock, and pulled it open.
“Hi Reece, sorry to bother you,” Marie said. She was standing in the doorway wearing a long blue calf-length jersey. Reece noticed the logo for Oxford University over her heart and wondered if that was where she’d gone to school.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’d already gotten ready for bed, and then I felt thirsty,” she said, holding an ice bucket. “I’d go myself, but I’m all ready for bed.”
That night shirt sure showed off some nice curves. “Sure, let me get you some ice,” he said.
“If you don’t mind, could you get me a can of ginger ale too?” Marie said, handing him a handful of coins.
“Ginger ale? Sure,” he said, taking the ice bucket from her.
He found the ice machine and a soda machine in the same small room off the hall. When he got back to his room, he handed them both to her. She thanked him and once she disappeared, he didn’t think any more of it. He was tired, and soon enough he was fast asleep.
He began dreaming about his dog Manchego. They were following a stream and the dog was off leash. The wind whipped the surface of the water and Mani ran across, slowing in the middle where the water was deep, and then the dog shot across to the other side. Reece watched him play and felt his usual fondness in his heart.
A little later he entered another dream. The water was heavy on his legs as he swam. It was dark and freezing cold. He felt sad. Kicking his feet wildly and pawing at the frigid dark waters, he could see his mother’s face behind clouded glass. It was the sinking Mazda 6. Ten more feet and I’ll save her. I got this. I’m coming, Mom. I’ll save you.
Then, just as before, he wasn’t able to reach the door handle. The car plummeted down into the black depths of the Oklahoma lake. Just like clockwork, he once again felt his body jerk violently as he came to.
