“Normally bacon would say breakfast to me, but since he died at night are you thinking a chicken sandwich with bacon?” he asked.
“Could be. Especially with the partially digested french fries I’m seeing. I’d estimate the food was consumed within an hour of his death, and he didn’t chew well.” She scooped something into her hand. “One of the fries is nearly whole.”
Rick looked at the tiny waffle fry. “Chick-fil-A.”
“They’re not the only restaurant to serve waffle fries.”
“Yes, but they’re the only fast-food place that does, and a homeless man might have scrounged up enough money to eat there.”
“Sounds plausible.” She went back to her work, and Rick used his phone to search the Internet for a Chick-fil-A in the area. He located one within walking distance of the park. Close enough for Griffin to have eaten there. If his claim of being followed was true, the restaurant’s security camera could have captured the guy tailing him.
As Rick started to pocket his phone, he received a text from Kaci. Retrieved park security footage. Don’t have a secure connection to email the files. Hotel room #208. Stop by and bring your computer if you want to review them.
He thumbed in, Be there ASAP.
He stood patiently for the next two hours while Dr. Idoni concluded her work without locating any other remarkable items, and then he headed to Chick-fil-A to request their security videos. The good news was they had footage from last night and cameras in various locations, so the odds of recording Griffin and the man he’d claimed was tailing him were good. The bad news was the manager insisted on a warrant to produce the files.
Rick fired off a text to Max asking for the warrant, then stepped outside to heavy gray clouds and thunder rumbling overhead. He hurried to his car before the typical summer afternoon downpour soaked him through. He’d barely gotten behind the wheel when the sky let loose with a deluge, making his trip to the suburban hotel far longer than he’d hoped.
By the time he pulled into the lot, his muscles were tight from squinting at the road, but at least the rain had tapered off. In the lobby he waited for the clerk to complete his check-in and glanced around the place. He often thought of his parents’ palatial home as a hotel, but not a drab place like this one. If he’d chosen to let them know he was in town, he thought his mother would insist on him staying with them. She would cater to his every whim, and their cook, Yolanda, who’d been more of a mother to him than his actual mother had been, would serve sumptuous meals. He wanted to see Yolanda while in town, but he wouldn’t go to the house.
“Here you go, sir.” The clerk slid the keycard across the counter.
In his room he dropped his bag on the floor and dialed Yolanda’s cell phone.
“Ricky? Is that you? Really you?”
Her voice wrapped around him, reminding him of her warm hugs when he was younger. “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry I haven’t called lately, but I’m in Atlanta for work and want to get together.”
“You’re here?” Her voice rose like an excited teenager’s. “Oh, my stars, that’s the best news I’ve had in months. Your mama will be so glad to see you.”
“No. Wait,” he said. “I thought we could meet somewhere away from the house.”
Silence filled the phone, so unlike Yolanda.
“Yo?”
“You need to see your mother, Ricky. Your absence is hurting her. Not that she’d tell you. She’s too proud to reach out to you, but it’s high time you reconcile with her. I won’t push it with your dad, but your mama is another story. So I’m putting my foot down.” She took a deep breath. “If you want to see me, you need to come to the house.”
“I can’t do that, Yo. You know that.”
“Then I suggest you think about it and call me back when you come to the right decision.”
“I—” he said, but she’d disconnected the call.
In all the years they’d been talking, she’d never hung up on him. Sure, on each call she’d encouraged him to visit his parents or at least call them, but she’d never been this adamant. He probably deserved the hang-up, but he could do nothing about it, so he stowed his phone and tried to swallow the pain of her refusal to see him.
Unfortunately, as he picked up his computer to go to Kaci’s room, Yolanda’s rejection continued to sit like a lump in his gut. For some odd reason, Dr. Dobbs came to mind. What would she tell him to do in this situation? Did he really care what she thought? Seriously, how did she worm her way into his mind like this?
Work. He needed to focus on work, just as he always did. He headed to Kaci’s room, three doors down a dark hallway with swirly blue carpet. She quickly answered and stepped back.
“Did you look at the footage?” he asked, glad to have his mind on business again.
She shook her head. “I’ve been too busy working on the other things you assigned.”
He crossed the room to a small round table with two chairs. Kaci’s laptop sat near the closest chair, so he took the other one and set down his computer. “Your background checks turn up any info?”
“We’ve only done the basics, but they check out on the doc.” She dropped into the chair by her computer. “No criminal record. Good credit score. No ongoing debt. No violations on her driver’s license. Same is true of Officer Hazeldale and Griffin.”
“FYI, his mother didn’t have much on him either. She told Shane that after Griffin’s first deployment to Iraq, his communication was sporadic. Even then she believed he was showing signs of PTSD but wouldn’t admit it. Ace told her about his therapy with Dr. Dobbs and authorized her to communicate with the doc on a regular basis. His mother figured if she kept checking to see if her son was showing up at his appointments, she’d know he was still alive.”
“That’s so sad.” Kaci frowned. “His poor mother.”
“Agreed,” Rick said, but after his recent call with Yolanda he couldn’t help but see the similarity to how he was treating his own mother. He could choose to see her or not, but Ace’s PTSD had robbed him of such a choice.
Rick hated to see a fellow vet suffer. He’d seen it so many times. Too many times, and yet each one broke his heart all over again. He had to admit to respecting the doc for taking on and helping clients who suffered from PTSD. He just wished he knew if she was being honest with him about her involvement in Griffin’s death.
“Do you really think Griffin was mixed up in the theft?” Kaci asked.
Did he? Rick wasn’t sure. “Max said Griffin alibied out for the night of the theft. He’d checked into the shelter and spent the whole night, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t in on the planning.”
“Then I’ll have the team keep digging.”
“The doc told me Griffin used to work as a security guard. Can you have your analysts gather a list of his former employers?”
“Will do.”
“What about the doc’s identity theft? Any progress there?”
“Like she said, the locals are investigating, but the case remains unsolved. I’ve requested the files, and I’ll keep after it to see if it’s relevant.” Kaci gestured at his computer. “Log in, and I’ll transfer the video files.”
He signed into his laptop. She connected a cord from her computer to his. The tip of her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth as her fingers flew over the keyboard. She had such a single-minded focus that he enjoyed watching her work. Enjoyed in an older-brother kind of way, not the way he’d liked watching the doc earlier. That was a whole other ball game.
Kaci unplugged the cord and quirked a smile. “I put the park videos on your desktop so they’re easy to find.”
He didn’t waste his breath denying her implication that his computer skills were limited, as they were, but he could play videos. He turned the computer and saw fifteen security files labeled by location and time stamp sitting on his desktop, as she’d promised.
He clicked on the first file. Griffin stepped through the park entrance at three minutes after ten, his m
ovements cautious. He checked over his shoulder every few feet. He drew the stares of park visitors, but that was likely due to his unkempt and jumpy appearance, not because any of them were tailing him. Griffin soon disappeared from view, and Rick let the video run, watching for any suspicious person entering the park. Three minutes later a man who resembled Rick from a distance stepped into view.
“I have a guy matching our suspect’s description. He’s wearing camo trousers and a sand-colored T-shirt.”
“Military?” Kaci asked.
“Video’s not clear enough to tell if the uniform’s official, much less which branch. If official, he’s in violation of his uniform code by not being in full uniform.” Rick tracked the guy. He walked with assurance, his hands shoved into his pockets. Another violation for a man in uniform. Hands were never allowed in pockets while in uniform, unless retrieving something.
Rick paused the video and swiveled his computer. “You should take a look at this.”
Kaci peered at the screen. “Dr. Dobbs described the shooter wearing a camo jacket and hoodie. This guy’s not wearing or carrying them.”
“He could have had them with his rifle and put them on then.”
“If you want me to run a facial recognition scan, I’ll need to enhance the picture.”
“Run it. Too bad the military doesn’t have a database that we can search so we could figure out if he’s an active duty soldier.”
“If they did, you know I’d be all over it.” She grabbed a notepad and jotted down the video file name and location. “I’ll have my team in D.C. work on the file, but it might already be clear enough for the doc to ID him as our suspect.”
Rick nodded his agreement, then started the video rolling again and kept his eyes open for a wrist tattoo, but the man soon walked out of camera range. Rick continued to watch until the time when Hazeldale radioed for help then he moved on to the second park video. At five after ten, Griffin arrived to talk to the doc. His back was to Rick, but he could clearly see Griffin’s hands and legs constantly moving as he talked. Thirty minutes later, he took off and stepped off screen. He’d departed ten minutes before the doc had thought. That changed her original timeline, giving the shooter additional time to take Griffin out and get down to his body. A much more believable scenario, and she might be telling the truth. That made him unreasonably happy. But why? It didn’t clear her of a connection to the murder. It only told him that the man with the knife could be their shooter.
Rick moved on to additional videos shot from other angles. On the last one, he spotted the guy in camo trousers exiting the park shortly after he entered. Rick checked the time stamp. Forty-nine minutes before the estimated time of Griffin’s death, meaning the man had plenty of time to leave the park and take a stand at the hide to take Griffin out.
Rick zoomed in on his footwear. “He’s wearing military boots, but I can’t make out the style. And there’s a shadow by his sleeve. Could be something or not.”
Kaci looked at the screen. “We can probably improve the picture.”
“I’ll have the doc watch the footage, too. Maybe she’ll see someone or something I missed.”
“Right.” Kaci met his gaze. “After you run each file a hundred more times tonight.”
He fired a questioning look at her.
“Hey, I know you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Mr. Obsessive. You won’t take a chance that you’re missing anything, and you’ll look at these files until you fall asleep at the computer.”
She was right. He’d keep watching until the wee hours of the night. And then? Then, tomorrow, he’d visit the doc again, something he could say wasn’t a hardship. No hardship at all. He didn’t want to admit that to himself, so he surely wouldn’t discuss it with Kaci.
“Okay, then, clam up as usual.” She shifted her gaze to her computer. “I’ll just go back to my darknet search for anyone trying to sell the ordnance.”
She didn’t need to explain the darknet to him. He was all too familiar with hidden computer networks living beneath the Internet that everyday users accessed. The deep web came first and wasn’t accessible by a typical search engine. That layer included some libraries, government sites, and members-only sites. Then came the darknet, intentionally hidden even deeper so both website owners and users were entirely anonymous, making them virtually impossible to track and giving them the freedom to engage in illegal activities.
“Find anything of interest?”
“Not yet.” She looked up. “Which surprises me. I should have found something by now. Maybe our suspect doesn’t plan to sell the technology.”
“Or he already has a buyer.”
“You mean he stole the bullets for someone in particular?”
“It wouldn’t be far-fetched to think he’d secure a buyer before taking the risk of stealing it.”
“You could be right.” She sat back and frowned. “If we’re talking about an experienced arms dealer, they likely have contacts and don’t need the darknet. And if this was a crime of opportunity, our thief isn’t likely familiar with darknet resources.”
“I doubt we’re dealing with a crime of opportunity,” Rick said. “With all the security protocols in place by DARPA, the theft had to be planned. If I ever get to talk to MilMed’s CEO, maybe we can figure this out.”
“He not cooperating?”
“His admin says he’s traveling and unreachable. I hope to talk to him in the morning.”
“Might be a good idea if I sat in on that interview in case a hacked network has compromised MilMed’s security.”
“You think that’s a possibility?”
“Sure. Hackers from other countries have infiltrated most of our nation’s networks, so why not this one?”
Rick eyed Kaci. “Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration?”
She shook her head, sending her ponytail swinging. “Our Cyber Task Force is up against businesses with the same mistaken impression all the time. Businesses often downplay the persistent threats they face. The actor—the guy who actually goes in and steals data—infiltrates the network in a stealthy manner and—”
“Wait,” Rick interrupted. “How can they infiltrate without the companies noticing them?”
“The actor targets employees of the company they’re trying to hack. A favorite ploy is to send a message with a link that, if clicked, gives the actor access to the company’s network.”
“Don’t most business e-mail programs filter out this kind of spam?”
“Most do, but the actor also uses social media, where the person least expects a threat. Or he can simply drop a thumb drive in the company’s parking lot. Most employees who find a drive plug it into their computer to locate the owner or look at the contents. Then bingo, the drive runs a script that gives the actor access to the network.”
“So they get in,” Rick said. “Wouldn’t the network administrator notice their activity?”
Kaci shook her head. “The purpose of the infiltration is to harvest and exfil data, not inflict harm. They wait for prime network traffic time to make a move, and because many businesses don’t believe they’ve been infiltrated, their security staff is watching only incoming traffic. They don’t even look at the packets of data that leave their network. These companies have no idea they’ve been hacked until one of our Cyber Task Forces discovers the hack on another investigation and informs them.” She took a breath. “The biggest threats come from state-sponsored actors out of Asia looking to gain product information.”
“Let’s hope the investigation doesn’t take us overseas,” Rick said.
“Max can reach out to the CIA to learn if we have any exposure there.”
“God help us if we do,” Rick said and refused to even imagine the chaos that could ensue if a foreign country gained access to this deadly technology.
Chapter 9
At six-thirty the next morning, Rick looked up as Kaci stepped into the small conference room on th
e hotel’s first floor. She was yawning and sipping coffee, as if channeling his fatigue from a sleepless night.
“So the MilMed guy won’t talk to us, and suddenly his only slot is before any sane person gets out of bed,” she grumbled as she set her coffee and laptop on the table.
“We’re often pulled out of bed at all hours of the night.”
“Then maybe we’re not sane.” She chuckled and dropped into a chair.
“I hear you, but we really need to talk to Erickson, and you’d be down here in thirty minutes anyway for our morning status update.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have to look presentable like I do for a video call. I mean, it takes time to look this stunning.” She grinned and plumped her hair.
Rick chuckled. Even grouchy she was fun to work with. He opened his computer and connected the call, then arranged the camera so they were both in the picture. When Wallace Erickson answered, his gruff hello set the tone for the interview, and not in a good way.
Rick put the guy in his fifties, and he had a receding hairline, a graying goatee, and deep wrinkles near his eyes. His tight expression and rigid posture said he wasn’t any happier than Kaci about the early-morning call.
Rick introduced himself and Kaci. “Thank you for meeting with us.”
“Sorry for the delay on getting together,” Erickson said, his tone flat and his apology forced. “We had an issue with another technology we’re perfecting.”
“Not something else stolen, I hope,” Kaci said.
“No, no.” A strained smile crossed his thin lips. “So what can I do for the two of you?”
Rick sat forward. “The details we were given on theft of the self-steering bullets are pretty sketchy.”
“I apologize for that. What do you need to know?”
“Everything.”
“Oh, I see.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead and then massaged as if he had a headache. “Since the technology was stolen during transport, I suppose you’d like to know about our arrangements. We chose to move it covertly. No big vehicle convoy or additional armed guards. Our theory was the fewer people who knew about it the better. Just a security guard hired from a trusted company and the van driver, who is one of our researchers and would have handled the prototype demonstration.”
Kill Shot Page 9
