“Who do you work for?” Somewhere out in the hall a vent came on and Sydney could feel cold air circulating into the room. The woman looked over her shoulder into the hall then closed the door. “You were going to tell me your employer’s name.”
“I don’t work for anyone,” Sydney said and swallowed as she watched the woman and the taser gun.
“Wrong answer.” Blondie turned on the taser gun and stroked it as if it were a pet. It was as though she had some sort of connection with the device. “Why did you take the pictures?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your sister is very pretty. Quick on her feet, too.” She stopped stroking the taser, but kept looking at it. Maybe it was talking to her. “You’re not like that, are you? Quick on your feet, I mean. I guess if you were, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Put that taser down and I’ll show you.”
Blondie paused as if considering what Sydney had said then laughed. “She’s much prettier than you. I bet she was the favorite. You know, always had her life in order.” Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “She probably did everything right. And you were a royal screw up.”
Whatever issues she had with Markie she wasn’t going to discuss them with the mad woman standing in front of her having a séance with the taser. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Your sister survived the accident last night, but I’m not sure she’ll be so lucky the next time around.”
“What accident?” Sydney froze. Cold sweat washed over her body. “Is she okay?”
“She’s still standing. Whether she remains that way is up to you.”
What has she done? A tear slid down Sydney’s cheek. After her phone call to Dalton Beck, she had decided to hide the pictures until she’d spoken to Markie. She didn’t think anyone would find them. Markie’s life was in danger because she had been impulsive. Impulsive was her middle name Nan had told her once. Why couldn’t she be more like Markie.
“Tears. How touching. I’m still waiting for an answer. Who do you work for and why were you taking pictures in Jamaica Plains?”
“I’m a photographer for Upscale Design Magazine.”
It was a one-off assignment. A friend had gotten her the job. She probably wouldn’t get another chance with the magazine again because she wasn’t going to make the deadline. Right now making the deadline was the least of her worries.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I’m telling you the truth. I was taking pictures for a layout in the magazine. After that, I decided to go for a walk. I didn’t see anything or take any other pictures.”
“Then what’s your sister doing with the pictures?”
Either way, she was going to be tasered again. Blondie was moving a little too close for comfort. Sydney pushed herself up from the cot and balled her fist the best she could with her hands bounded together, ready to swing.
“I don’t—”
The shock from the taser gun cut off her reply. She lost her balance and hit the floor.
Pain.
Darkness.
• • •
All eyes focused on Markie when she removed the sunglasses. She wanted the meeting to be about Sydney, not her eye. Jamie looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. She didn’t call him last night because she didn’t want to worry him. Now she wished she had because she was going to hear about it after the meeting.
“Gentlemen,” she said to Carlos and Karter who strolled into the conference room a few minutes later, “I’d like you to meet Dalton Beck. Beck, meet two of our other investigators, Carlos and Karter whom I’ve asked to join us.”
Carlos was built like a refrigerator with short black spiked hair, olive complexion dressed in Brooks Investigations shirt and jeans. Since he and Jamie were allergic to suits, Markie had no objections to them wearing promotional gear.
Karter, on the other hand, was a reed-like man with thick black glasses who always had a handful of tissues. His thin body was lost in the brown suit that was at least two sizes too big.
Both men shook hands with Beck after the introduction and took their seats at the table.
Markie shrugged out of her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair. She wasn’t one for fuss and frill when it came to fashion, but today she’d pulled out the long sleeved green silk blouse with the white pearl buttons to hide the bruises on her arms. Then she had spent the extra time it took to put a few curls in her hair and apply a plum shade lipstick. The goal: draw attention away from the black eye. The finishing touch was the wraparound sunglasses. But she couldn’t very well hide behind them all day. Could she?
Markie sat down next to Jamie and grit her teeth when every muscle in her body screamed at her in pain. Her eye began to throb. The throbbing was accompanied by an annoying twitch that began on her drive in when the sun penetrated the dark lenses of the glasses. The florescent overhead lighting didn’t help. It made her injured eye hurt even more.
“At first, I thought Sydney’s disappearance was something I could handle alone,” she began, “but the two attempts on my life have made me see the light…even if it’s out of one eye.”
The last part of her comment had gotten a chuckle out of everyone except Beck. Jamie picked up on it and stared at her. His eyes were asking what was up between her and Beck. She ignored him.
“Here is what we know.” Markie used the remote she picked up from the table to lower a screen from the ceiling in front of the room. “Sydney called me four days ago to meet for lunch and said she wanted to run something by me. The “something” I’m assuming is,” Markie nodded to Jamie to turn on the projector on the table, “these pictures. Why she took them, and I’m assuming at this point she did, I don’t have an answer yet.”
The room was quiet as everyone’s attention focused on the screen. Markie waited until all twenty pictures were shown one after the other.
“Jamie, bring up the picture of the woman. Yes, that’s the one. Thanks.” Markie got up and stood facing the screen staring at the picture. The woman in the picture had on white capris and a white tank top. Turning to Karter, Markie asked, “Can you remove the shadows from her face so we can get an ID? Don’t worry about the other two men. She’s running the show. Find her and we’ll find the men.”
“It’s going to take some time.” Karter blew his nose in the wad of tissues in his hands and sniffled.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours. Cate has all the pictures.”
“I’d better get started.” Karter stuffed the tissues in his pocket then grabbed the notepad containing his notes and left the room.
“Go back to the picture of the house, Jamie. Yes that’s the one. You can pretty much see the entire house.”
“Carlos, I want to know where this house is. If we can figure out where the pictures were taken then we’ll have a starting point in our search for Sydney. Beck can help. It’s their client.”
Beck met her gaze and nodded. “I know where it is. I’ll get you the address.”
“Anything from Sydney’s computer, Jamie?”
“Someone deleted a bunch of files. It could be Syd. I’m working on getting them back. Still working on trying to get into her email account.”
The phone on the desk in the back corner of the conference room buzzed and Carlos wheeled back in his chair and grabbed it. “Hello? Thanks, Cate. I’ll be right out.” He hung up the phone and Markie looked up at him. “My 11:00 a.m. appointment is here,” he said.
“Go. You and Beck can talk later,” Markie told Carlos as he made his exit.
“Okay Beck, you know what we know. What can you tell us about Sydney and what’s going on at Beck Security Systems? And the million-dollar question…who is the woman in the picture? Any ideas?”
“No.”
Jamie brought up the picture of the woman on the screen again.
• • •
Beck tried not to react to the picture. Could that really be Monika? Telling Marklynn h
is thoughts would be premature. He had to find out first.
He shifted his gaze from the screen to Marklynn. She kept squinting at the screen and he knew her eye was bothering her. She sat down gritting her teeth then let out a slow breath. The woman belonged in a hospital and by the look on everyone’s face he wasn’t alone in his assessment. She was there because he had agreed to help. He wanted to but not just because he wanted to save his company. Something was happening between him and Marklynn. Something he didn’t want to walk away from. Not yet.
“Sydney called me,” Beck said. “Must have been right before she called you. She said she had pictures. But the name she used was Victoria Kelly which I’m told is your grandmother’s name.”
He waited for an explanation of some sort from Marklynn. Perhaps even a hint at Sydney’s past or why she thought she’d taken the picture. She offered none and sat in silence waiting for him to continue.
“I agreed to meet with her as she requested,” Beck continued. “She said she would call me back with a time and location. She never did. I traced the telephone call to her apartment. When I arrived the place was ransacked.”
“I’m guessing whoever it was knew she had taken the pictures. Perhaps they thought she called you and didn’t want the two of you connecting?” Markie said.
“I don’t know.” Beck leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands over his eyes. Tired. “Three months ago seven homes that we’ve installed security systems in were broken into. In every case, the security system failed even though the system was activated. Each system was fully inspected before and after they were installed. They were tested after each incident and we’re at a loss as to why each one of them failed.”
Beck remembered when the first break in occurred and he’d gotten the call. They thought it was a glitch. The security system was replaced and tested. Only jewelry was stolen. No fire. The next house, it was the paintings that went missing, no jewelry. Since the homeowners were art dealers, the police believed they were involved because of a bogus insurance filed. The two incidents were enough for him to be concerned. He had everyone on high alert checking and rechecking every installation projects.
“That can’t be good for business,” Jamie said. He had been taking notes, but paused for a moment staring at Beck.
“Tell me about it. They are some of Boston’s wealthiest citizens.”
“I can see that. Your company is not exactly the most well known alarm company on the market. Yet, you’ve garnered some very influential clients.”
Beck knew what Jamie was doing. He was trying to goad him and Marklynn looked on, saying nothing. Well, he wasn’t going to be bullied.
“How did you get a copy of my client list?” He asked with a sharp edge in his voice.
“Why are you sabotaging your company?”
That question brought Beck’s back straight up in his chair and he leveled Jamie with a cold stare. Marklynn intervened.
“What Jamie is trying to ask in his own unique way is how you’ve acquired such an affluent client base. I think that’s a fair question in light of what’s happening at your company.”
He looked from Jamie to Markie before he answered. “My stepmother’s name is Anika Taylor.”
“Oh,” Marklynn said.
Beck assumed she had a file on him but they must have missed that. It was Jamie’s eyes widening in surprise and Marklynn’s “oh” that said it all.
His stepmother was the interior designer to the very rich and the very famous. Most people thought that she was the reason for his success. With that assumption came the thought that he didn’t have to work for anything and Marklynn was probably thinking the same thing.
“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth,” Beck said, anger creeping into his voice. “Beck Security Systems was built on my sweat. My stepmother may have referred some of her clients to us, but we did okay on our own acquiring other high-profile clients.”
“Beck—” Markie started but he held up his hand to silence her.
“We may not be as well known as the other security companies,” he looked at Jamie, “but we have a solid reputation in this industry. Well…at least we used to.”
“How did your clients handle the break-ins?” Markie asked.
“We weren’t able to save all seven of the accounts. Four of the seven home owners went with different security companies and we picked up the tab.”
They were lucky that three accounts stayed. The clients were good friends of his stepmother and they decided to stay with him pending no further incident. So far there had been none.
“Your insurance company would have taken care of it,” Jamie said, looking at him with raised brows. “Why pay if it wasn’t your fault?”
“It was our responsibility,” he said with force. “Our clients trusted us with the safety of their families and their possessions. We failed them. It shouldn’t have happened. The systems shouldn’t have failed.”
“How is it possible that a working system malfunctions for no reason? Is it possible, Jamie?” Markie asked.
“Anything is possible, Markie, and any system can be hacked into.”
“I want to know how it’s being done. This isn’t making any sense to me at all,” Beck said in frustration. “I have a team of people scrambling to find answers but they keep coming up with nothing. I want answers.”
• • •
Markie should have known better than to leap to conclusions. She had enough of that in her life with people who she thought were her friends when she left the police department. People, who didn’t know the entire story as to why she left, yet formed their own opinion of her. She had no right to judge Beck.
Markie glanced at Jamie who, in turn was staring at Beck as if he’d just appeared out of nowhere. He had missed that information about Beck’s stepmother. He rarely missed anything. And if he did, it wasn’t worth mentioning. She also knew Jamie. How he thought. He was assessing Beck and was caught off guard when Beck had taken responsibility for the failed security systems.
However, being caught off guard was no reason to commit to helping Beck. That was what Jamie had written across his face, flashing like a neon sign. And if he felt that Brooks Investigations should not get involved then he would insist they back off and let Beck fend for himself.
The only thing was, Markie wanted to help Beck and would, regardless of what Jamie thought. It wasn’t just because of Sydney. It was something else and she wasn’t ready to admit to what that was at the moment.
Beck sat at the table rubbing his forehead with the heels of his palms as if his head suddenly hurt. On impulse, she wanted to comfort him, to smooth the tired lines from his face and probably would have if Jamie weren’t in the room. Why? Because he had done that for her last night after the pickup had tried to make her a part of the pavement.
As much as she fought against her reaction to him last night, she came to the conclusion that she wouldn’t have gotten through it without him. Being in his arms had made her feel safe if only for a moment and she liked it.
Markie understood Beck’s frustration and wanted to give him answers or at least try. “Any thoughts, Jamie?”
“What we’re looking at is some sort of custom software, malware to subvert the monitoring software,” Jamie replied.
“Yes, but how is—?”
“Malware?” Markie interrupted Beck not wanting to be left in the dark. Although, the topic was familiar territory to Beck and Jamie, it was foreign to her. “I’ve never heard of that word.”
Jamie’s hostility towards Beck had turned into intrigue. When it came to computers he was in his element. He’d been on the Cybercrime Unit when he worked for the police department before he partnered with her.
“Malware is formed from two words. Malicious and software,” Beck explained. “Take the first three letters from malicious and the last four letters of software. It’s a software designed to infiltrate and damage a computer system.”
“You’re
talking about a computer virus,” Markie said simply. “That’s Jamie’s stomping ground.”
“How so?” Beck asked.
“Before I joined the police department I was an independent information consultant with experience in performing security assessment for fortune 500 companies. I’ve held various information and technology roles over the years. Education: Bachelor’s degree in Computer Engineering Technology and PHD in Management Technology. Bottom line…I can pretty much hack into anything.”
“Trust me, he’s telling the truth,” Markie said with a grin, “and he’s being modest.”
“Can he find the trail of an invisible hacker?” Beck laughed, a weary laugh. “The tech guys named him Shadoe.”
It was Jamie’s turn to laugh. “The name fits.”
“I know computers and software and how they work,” Beck said. “I’ve looked at the software data every which way possible and I still can’t figure how the system is being accessed. The alarm systems are installed and tested. The Jamaica Plains property that went up in flames last night that system was tested. I did it myself. There was nothing wrong with the system.”
“Nothing that you could find,” Jamie said staring at Beck. The intimidation factor once again present and Beck rose to meet the challenge.
“You’re saying that we, my entire team and I, will never find it.”
Jamie shrugged.
“Who designed the monitoring software?” Markie asked, already knowing Beck’s answer.
“Malcolm led the design team at the time and he still works closely with them.”
“How does the system work?” Jamie asked, as he scribbled across the pad of paper in front of him.
Beck looked at him as if to suggest with his credentials Jamie should already know the answer.
“He’s asking for my benefit,” Markie assured Beck. “Since I would probably ask him about it later anyway.”
“There are two components to the security system—the hardware and the software. The hardware is the unit that’s installed in the house. The software side of it is the code that tells the system what to do,” Beck explained.
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