by Nadirah Foxx
An hour later, we had hashed out everything needed for the project. Members from Sentinel would go to the mayor’s office and speak with his tech department. The project manager assured me the hardware would be ready to go before the end of the week. It was all I could ask.
When I exited the conference room, I went to check on Debbie and Josh. They sat with their heads together in front of a large monitor. The audio track from the security footage played so loudly the two of them didn’t notice me come in. Josh stopped the track, rolled it back, and played it again. I moved farther into the room, stopping beside him.
He glanced up and then turned the sound down. “How did your meeting go?”
“Productive.” I pointed toward the screen. “What about this?”
“Slow going,” Debbie said. “There’s nothing distinctive about the voices. Without a variance, the software can’t easily determine identities. All I can tell you is the culprits are young—possibly between eighteen and twenty-five—and they’re white males. That’s it.”
In other words, nothing. I had to find the prototype. It might help me locate the mystery killers.
20
The Light Snuffed Out
I returned to my office, and my phone buzzed in my pocket. A new text had been delivered from Killian. He wanted to meet in the same alley. I checked the time and then slipped into the closet. I wouldn’t be gone long.
As I drove to Shady Corners, I couldn’t stop thinking about Project Triton and the prototype. If the item existed and if it worked, it might help me find justice. I imagined being able to find the killers without them knowing about me. They might even lead me directly to their boss. Putting my faith in a futuristic object might be insane.
But what if it wasn’t?
With that in mind, I decided I’d speak to Debbie as soon as I returned to the office. She’d either tell me I’d lost my mind or present the real artifact.
The day was looking up.
◆◆◆
Sadly, I should not have counted on it staying that way. I sat in my car for nearly an hour waiting for Killian. When a squad car pulled in behind me, I just knew something was wrong.
The officer rapped his knuckles on my window. When I lowered it, I was surprised to see Bart.
“Hey, Kerrie. I didn’t think I’d run into you.”
I forced a smile. “Neither did I.”
He rested his hands on the roof and leaned down. “Want to tell me what you’re doing here?”
“You first.”
He chuckled. “You know that’s not how this works.” Bart looked over his shoulder. “I can tell you we’ve found a body about a block from here. I’m supposed to be canvassing the area.”
And doing a piss poor job of it. Rather than tell him that, I asked, “Male or female?”
“A man. Red hair. Trench coat. Looked like a wannabe detective. Why?”
Damn. Somebody killed Killian. “I had a text message from someone who wanted to chat about working at Sentinel. I’d never met the man. He said he would be wearing a trench coat.”
“Aw, man, Kerrie. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I didn’t know him. We’d only chatted on the phone.” I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. “Any idea of what happened to him?”
“Bullet to the head.” A siren sounded in back of us. “You better take off before somebody thinks you were involved.”
“Indeed.” I cranked up the motor and drove farther down the alley before making a right at the first street.
I wondered why somebody murdered the man. As a private investigator, I was certain Killian had made his fair share of enemies. I just hoped his seeking info for me didn’t prompt someone to take him out.
As I pulled up to a stop light, it hit me like a brick. A man lost his life, and I responded like it was nothing more than an inconvenience. When did I become so self-absorbed? Did losing my loved ones change me that drastically?
Someone blew their horn, and I hit the gas. If I were honest with myself, I’d realize the change wasn’t that drastic. Ryan kept me sane. He kept my monstrous side—the non-caring, selfish bitch—in the shadows. Becoming a mom helped too. I no longer could just think of my needs. RJ made me a better person. Without them, I was doomed to revert back to the same girl who thought she was better than everyone else.
Honestly, I didn’t want to go back down that road, but I saw no way to prevent it. How was I supposed to be sweet and lovable and find a killer? It just wasn’t possible.
What was possible was a cup of coffee. I made a left and pulled up to the curb near The Coffee Bar. Reaching into the glove compartment, I fumbled through the quagmire of mess for a pack of mints or a stick of gum. I didn’t find what I was after, but I did locate something I’d forgotten about—Tristan’s thumb drive. Without getting any details from Killian, viewing its content became even more important. I made a mental note to access the drive when I returned to Sentinel. Until then, I tucked it into my pocket and exited the vehicle.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, I had a crazy premonition like something was about to happen. I wasn’t carrying my handbag, so I tucked my hands into my jacket pockets and entered the shop.
“Kerrie Ann?” The accented masculine voice came from across the room.
I glanced up and saw Mom’s friend, Walter, sitting in a booth. Smiling, he stood and walked over to me. “What a pleasant surprise. Would you care to join me?”
I looked past him. “Where’s Mom?”
“I’m waiting for her. She had some business in the area and asked me to meet her here.”
Odd. What business did my mother have so close to City Center? Wanting to find out what Walter was up to, I agreed to sit with him. “Let me get my coffee first.”
“Allow me, my dear. What would you like?”
My gut said not to trust him, but I didn’t want to be so obvious. “A caramel latte. Hot please.”
“I’ll be right back.” When the man went to the counter, I headed for his table.
As the server prepared my drink, Walter leaned his elbow on the counter and faced me. He casually waved as if it were the most natural thing in the world. We weren’t that familiar.
Turning toward the window, I couldn’t lose that sense of dread. Suddenly, I saw what was giving me pause. A woman with warm brown skin was trying to push a stroller and hang onto a precocious toddler. The girl, with a head full of long braids, attempted to run after something unseen. Her mother was desperately trying to stop her daughter.
In a blink of an eye, the girl tugged hard and the woman lost her grip. Out of nowhere, a man ran up to the mother and yanked her purse. The strap broke, and he took off. She screamed, but no one stopped to help her.
I jumped to my feet. Running past Walter, I pushed the door open. The woman was still screaming while her daughter cried. At least the child didn’t move. The last thing the mother needed was to lose her kid too.
“Hey, can I help?” I asked the woman as I approached.
“It was all the money I had,” she mumbled as tears streamed down her plump cheeks.
I didn’t get a good look at the man, but I did the next best thing. I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out a few bills—it was only fifty dollars, but it was better than nothing.
“Here, take this.” I pressed the money into the woman’s palm. “Do whatever you need to do with it. Stop at the precinct and report the crime. Nothing can be done without—”
“The police aren’t going to help someone like me.” She dried her tears and clutched the bills tightly. She looked at me once more and then walked away.
“Wait!” I caught up to her and grabbed her forearm. “Why won’t the police help you?”
“I live in Shady Corners. The police don’t even go there. Thanks for the money though. At least my kids will eat tonight.”
As she departed, I noticed the shabby condition of the stroller and the girl’s tattered clothing. Fifty dollars wasn’t nearly enough.
/> “Kerrie Ann?”
I whirled around and saw Walter. “What?”
His forehead furrowed. “Is everything okay?”
“No, it’s not. I’ll have to pass on that coffee. There’s something I need to take care of.”
Leaving Walter alone on the sidewalk with his mouth hanging open, I headed for the station. There was no way that crime would not be reported.
A white-haired officer sat at the reception desk. He looked up and smiled. “How can I help you?” He cocked his head to one side. “It’s Kerrie King, right?”
“Yes. I need to report a mugging.”
Concern moved across his ruddy face. “I’m sorry. Where were you mugged at?”
“I wasn’t,” I snapped. “A mother and her children were right outside of The Coffee Bar. A man came out of nowhere and took her purse right off her arm.”
“Do you have a name for the victim? A description of the suspect?” The man pulled out a form and lifted his pen.
“No,” I admitted.
He lowered the writing instrument. “Ms. King, I’m sure you’re aware those things are required to file a formal report.”
I rubbed my forehead. “Yes, yes, but isn’t there something that can be done?”
“Of course.” He started scribbling on the page. “What can you tell me?”
“She lives in Shade Land…” My voice trailed off as I noticed he’d stopped writing. “Is there a problem?”
His mouth twisted, and then he sighed. “Here’s the thing. Shade Land really isn’t our district.”
“What? It’s a neighborhood without a police presence. It’s literally down the damn street.”
“My hands are tied, Ms. King.” He lowered the pen and crumpled the paper. “I’d love to help but—”
“But you won’t. Nobody will. This town has stopped caring about the people who live in that area. That’s sad. Really sad.”
I stormed out the front door and back to my car. It pissed me off how the city simply forgot about the neighborhood. There were good people still living in the SC. They deserved respect.
◆◆◆
As soon as I returned to Sentinel, I went to the tech lab. I had to find out what was on Tristan’s thumb drive, and I didn’t want an audience. Just as I popped it into my laptop, a computerized voice announced that I had a visitor. I looked up and saw Debbie.
“Have you been down here for long?”
I stopped typing and lied, “Yeah. I took a nap. Were you looking for me?”
“Yes.” Her brow wrinkled as she stared at me. “The voice recognition software is a bust. Maybe if I tweak—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Glancing up, I asked, “Earlier, you mentioned the prototype.”
She smiled. “Funny thing. I came down here to give you the prototype. If you’d been here like you said, you’d have it now.”
Shit. Busted.
“Second, we have to find some sort of mutual ground where we can respect each other.” Debbie plopped down on the stool beside me. “I haven’t lied to you once, Kerrie. But, for some reason, you feel it necessary to constantly lie to me. I don’t know if it’s because you don’t like me or you distrust any woman who worked with Ryan.”
“That’s not—”
Debbie lifted her hand. “Don’t. In case your curiosity is killing you, I never made a pass at Ryan. Neither did he.”
“I never thought that.”
“Sure you did. As soon as you saw this setup, you started constructing possible scenarios. Hell, I would have done the same thing.” She leaned forward. “You should also know I’m bisexual, not gay. In case you’re wondering, I find Josh interesting. He’s a good-looking man, but I’m not on the market. Jackie makes me happy. She wants a future with me.”
“Good for you,” I said dryly.
Debbie sighed and removed her glasses. “The prototype is in a box on your bed. And no, it’s not the first time I’ve been in that bedroom. I took care of Ryan’s dry cleaning. I was also responsible for hiring the housekeeper. She was a discrete woman who kept this place tidy.”
Her words reminded me of the fridge. “Oh, I should say thank you for the groceries.”
My assistant’s frosty exterior melted. “You’re welcome. It was another one of my duties. I did everything and anything your husband required so he could run this company. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“And the surveillance you do?”
“Keeps out the intruders. I upgraded the security on this level. Anyone who enters the stairwell or approaches the glass doors in the parking garage will be announced. If the person isn’t a threat, you’ll get a friendly warning. If it’s danger, you’ll know it.”
“I appreciate that.” It was my turn to confess. “Debbie, I don’t mean to be a bitch.”
Her eyebrow lifted.
“Ryan was my savior. He spared me from my own demons. I may look wholesome, but I’m far from it. I have my issues, and he kept them at bay. Having our son made me a happier person.”
She nodded. “I get it. But are you going to tell me you had this secret persona? You know, dyed black hair and piercings? Were you dark and moody as a kid?”
“Close. But I didn’t do the whole Goth look. My parents would have killed me. But I lost my dad when I was still in high school. I didn’t handle it as well as I should have.”
“What happened?” Suddenly, Debbie waved her hand and added, “You don’t have to answer that.”
“Yeah, I do.” My eyes flicked toward the ceiling briefly. “Josh doesn’t even know this. He thinks I spent the summer after my father’s death traveling. Instead, I spent it in a private hospital.”
Debbie’s gaze widened. “But they cured you, right?”
“I wasn’t sick.” I pushed to my feet. “Thanks for bringing me the prototype. I think I’ll take a look at it.”
She jumped up. “Oh, yeah. I’ll be upstairs.”
It was probably a bad decision to mention the hospital, but I was waving an olive branch. I just hoped it was warranted.
21
Project Triton
I walked into the bedroom and found a white corrugated box in the middle of the bed. It was a plain without bells, bows, or company logo. In fact, an innocent bystander would think it wasn’t important. Was the simplicity of it meant to distract from the valuable merchandise inside?
I lifted the lid and almost laughed. Ryan had to be joking when he designed it. One night, we were watching some superhero franchise flick when Ryan made a ridiculous comment.
“That would look so hot on you, Kerrie.”
I exploded with laughter. “Oh, so now you want to dress me in a catsuit? Can I have a cool car with plenty of smart gadgets too?”
“Anything for you, babe.”
We’d been drinking a bit that evening. Maybe Ryan had had a few drinks too many when he sat down to create the prototype.
Reaching in, I pulled out a slinky gray-blue one-piece. It was a lustrous fabric with a scaly pattern, almost reptilian in design. The long sleeves even had gloves attached. Also in the box was what looked like a high-tech balaclava made from the same fabric.
What on earth was my husband thinking? Obviously, he didn’t plan for a man to be the test model for the prototype.
I took the garment into the bathroom and held it in front of me. When I looked into the mirror, I couldn’t see the costume. The only things visible were my head and any spot on my body the fabric didn’t touch.
“What the hell?” I said out loud.
I lowered the prototype, and my entire body came back into view. Pulling it up, I disappeared again. Scratching my head, I had to wonder if there was some truth to Ryan’s theory.
A myriad of possibilities filtered through my mind. I imagined tracking down criminals and following them to their hideouts. I could slip into the mayor’s office, or the LCPD, and root out the sources of corruption. If Ryan had had the foresight to make a weapon prototype, I could be virtually unstopp
able. The idea delighted me, but I had other things to do.
Taking the hilarious outfit back into the bedroom, I dropped the garment in the box and slid the entire thing under the bed. Before anyone interrupted me, I had to access Tristan’s thumb drive.
I gathered the storage device and my laptop along with a notebook and a pen. The tech lab would be the best place to work. My gaze bounced around the area. I spied a corner station on the far side of the room. In a matter of minutes, I had my computer booted up and the thumb drive loaded.
Seconds later, a flurry of files spread across my screen. It appeared that each folder was an entry into Tristan’s reporter journal. I tapped on the first one and began reading his notes.
Is corruption headed for Liberty City? If the strange pattern of crimes in the Tri-City area is an indication, then citizens better get prepared.
It seemed like these were meant for an article that was never published. I kept reading.
When the first wave hit Arcadia City, nobody complained much. Officials simply said that no major city was free from crime. The acts were minor nuisances—nothing for citizens to worry about.
But there was nothing minor about the crimes. They quickly escalated from muggings to home invasions.
According to retired ACPD Officer Jack Peters, the police were dealing with a slew of computer-related offenses. “Hackers targeted mostly small businesses at first. People didn’t worry when it was just emails at stake. Then the hackers branched out and began holding servers hostage for Bitcoin. That’s when folks got pissed.”
I opened my notebook and jotted down the details about the hackers. We’d had some issues with Bitcoin ransoms, but that had been months ago. The latest crime reports didn’t mention any data heists of late. I scanned the article.
But Officer Peters said that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. “Folks think the only concern was the hackers. Well, they should have been looking at city hall. Something odd was going on there.”
