A Critical Tangent

by Reily Garrett

  Anger and indignation emanated from every pore of her body. She met his stare with one of her own, innocence and determination proving a heady mixture.

  “The problem is, who’s stealing my designs, and why? What’s their end game?”

  “Tell me about your boss and his operation. How many engineers does Franklin Harock employ?”

  “I—I don’t know for sure. I’ve always worked on the fringes. I have talked with several of his mechanics over the last few months, working out flaws and checking on what specifics they want included, what they want each drone to do.”

  “Is Harock a hands-on kind of guy? Does he take much interest and micromanage his employees? I don’t have enough detail on his background.”

  “He’s not capable of designing or fixing problems that come up during the process. He’s strictly a business man.”

  “So, we might be looking for someone in his company. Or someone who went after Shelly to send him a message.”

  Delving through one problem spawned several new ones. A cursory check had indicated Harock Industries’ payroll included over a hundred employees in the local office alone. Several satellite facilities operating under the regional umbrella were scattered throughout the country.

  Further conversation yielded little useful information. She described in detail, other works in progress and her goals for each. Incorporating GPS seemed a logical step for the company in protecting their products. The notion of drones bearing infrared sensors sparked a darker curiosity.

  The fact remained someone targeted Keiki after killing one of her friends. The third of their trio was still missing and a professor was dead with the same MO as Harock’s daughter. All this while trying to frame the coed for murder.

  “I hate multi-tasking thugs.” Perhaps a dealer held a vendetta against the company and its employees. The longer he thought about it, the less feasible it seemed.

  “I don’t want to be framed for something I didn’t do.”

  “You won’t be, kid. That’s not gonna happen.”

  Since his daughter’s death, Harock had stepped up security both at home and work. Nolan wondered if it would be enough, considering the instruments of death involved.

  “C’mon. I’ll take you back and help carry your stuff up the steps.” Getting her settled seemed a nice thing to do.

  Clarification of her working status settled the question of her innocence in his mind, yet he needed hard evidence. En route to her apartment, they were quiet, each guarding their thoughts.

  “I’ll set this last box on your bed.” From the door, he could see her entire space, except for the bathroom. The double bed sported a blanket depicting a mountain scene complete with deer and rabbits.

  “Thanks. I still haven’t put away my other stuff.”

  The drones she’d brought from her apartment covered most viable surfaces.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Heavy cloud cover shielding the morning sun couldn’t wipe the grin from Nolan’s face when picking up his partner. He’d obtained enough facts, if not concrete evidence, to clear Keiki’s status as person of interest.

  Once his partner opened the SUV’s door and settled in, Nolan handed him a hot coffee.

  “Aw, is this bring the teacher an apple day? I seem to have missed that memo.”

  “No, smartass. Drink your coffee and fuck off.”

  Coyote sipped his brew but didn’t hold back the commentary. “So, you got some last night. Who’s the lucky lady?” A light snicker served as advanced warning for future insults. “About time, too.”

  “If you’re referring to particular details about the case, then yes. Yes, I got very lucky.” Dawn’s gray light had crept into the corners of his bedroom by the time he’d finished his to-do list.

  “Damn, and I was wondering if you’d suffer from tennis elbow before rejoining the world of dating. Dare we credit a certain prodigious blonde?”

  The reference to Keiki irked him more than it should have. “She’s a student. You’d do well to remember that.” The darker side of his imagination pictured her on his bed, her hair cascading over the side.

  “It’s not like I’m the one harboring a potential suspect, buddy.”

  “She’s not staying with me. She’s renting Carolyn’s apartment over the garage.”

  “To-may-to, to-mah-to. Carolyn would be homeless if you hadn’t helped.”

  “It’s her name on the deed, not mine. If the captain wants to split hairs, I’m fine.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Keiki’s no longer a suspect. If you can keep your thoughts above the waistline for a minute, I’ll explain how I know.”

  “Partner, I’m not the one who needs a roll in the hay, but for future reference, I have a friend…”

  “No thanks. I hate shots.” Nolan disregarded Coyote’s derogatory comments and waited until the running flow of verbal abuse dried up.

  During the night, he’d thought of the best way to present the facts to the task force. Now, he tossed the folder containing pictures of Keiki’s other prototypes to his partner. “Take a look before others weigh in. Study them up close and tell me what you see.”

  To his credit, it took Coyote less than a minute to notice the difference between the marked photos of Keiki’s devices and the one that had carried the fatal poison.

  “Okay, I’m listening. Given your smile, I take it this is going to be good.”

  That was code for his partner having an open mind. Nolan launched into precise details and a working theory. “We both know Harock was holding something back. What we don’t know is if he’s being framed, blackmailed, or targeted.”

  “It’d take concrete evidence to get a warrant, and I hear he’s got high-class golfing buddies. Gonna be hard to get.” Coyote bounced one heel on the floorboard, his agitation contagious.

  “That’s not the biggest hitch.”

  “Really? There’s more?”

  “Keiki’s got revenge on her mind. I saw it in her eyes last night.”

  “Was that before or after?” When no answer came forth, Coyote continued, undaunted, “We can’t sit on her without making her feel like a suspect, and she’ll shut us out regarding anything else she learns. However, she does have access to Harock’s inner sanctum...”

  “No. We are not asking her to snoop. If she gets caught, they’d kill her before we could intervene.”

  Coyote grinned. “You know she’s gonna poke around anyway.”

  Yeah, this was the part of the puzzle Nolan couldn’t stomach. “She’s working part-time for Nick Tucker. We could involve him.”

  “You’ve heard as well as I have, he’s a man who colors outside the lines on occasion. Would she go to him for help?”

  “Doubt it. He wore a badge and that’s a deterrent for her. No, she’ll take on Harock Industries all by herself.” Nolan pictured her scooting out in the dead of night for her own sneak and peek.

  “I don’t fancy being one step behind her, either, but—”

  “No, Coyote. Just no.”

  “Look. Harock has the drones. Gabby is a chemistry major. The chem professor had some type of—something—hidden, which we can speculate has been found.” Coyote pulled out his notepad. “Oh, and by the way, I talked with campus security again. They found nothing of significance in reviewing the videos for the stranger the two girls saw after a party.”

  “Figures. That doesn’t mean footage doesn’t exist.” Nolan made a sharp turn to enter the highway. “I think Keiki saw the killer’s face, which would explain his persistence in targeting her. I don’t believe she has any interest in drugs and doesn’t feel the need to stockpile cash. Look at the way she lives. No, I think her interests drive her to succeed. It’s just the way she’s wired.”

  “Takes like to recognize like, I guess,” Coyote replied.

  “Either Harock, one of his employees, or even the competition is using drones for whatever current purpose they have in mind.”

  “Can I have assa
ssinations for one hundred, please? And they’re using your kid as cover. I think she or Gabby has something they want. God knows what. Apparently they didn’t find it when ransacking the apartment.”

  Nolan continued his partner’s line of thought. “The picture I found in Harock’s home showed the resemblance between Shelly and Keiki. It would’ve been easy enough for the killer to mistake one for the other at a distance, then have to dispose of the body after realizing his mistake. Shelly might have been collateral damage.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “The killer could’ve been pissed off at the mistaken identity and went into a rage.” Nolan’s agitation took form as his fingers tapped on the wheel. “We need to go over Harock’s employee files again. At least he gave us that much.”

  “Which he wouldn’t have done if he suspected one of them of killing his daughter. He seemed the hands-on type to me.”

  “Fentanyl-laced opioids could be a red herring.” Nolan shook his head, not believing his own words.

  “Yeah, me neither. Not after the professor’s death.”

  The soft hum of tire on gravel supplied white noise for the remaining ride to the precinct, each detective delving through their own thoughts, forming their own suspect pool, and finagling a way to prove out their theory.

  They would have just enough time to slip in to see the vice detective before the joint task meeting.

  Warm air buffeted his thoughts as Nolan shoved the heavy glass door to the station open. He nodded to the duty officer who buzzed him past the bullet-resistant enclosure.

  A half-eaten bagel and extra-gulp-sized coffee sitting on the counter accounted for his disgruntlement when the phone rang.

  Discreet tapping on Nolan’s shoulder interrupted his thought process. “What?”

  Coyote pointed toward the captain’s office where the man himself stood in the open doorway with a deep scowl. “When you two have finished wool-gathering and can spare a minute, my office please, Detectives.”

  Nolan nodded but ignored his partner’s murmured, “Get your head in the game before he hands the case to the feds.”

  “Just trying to work out the puzzle.” The lie slipped from his lips and avoided rebuttal since Coyote couldn’t read it in his face.

  Instead of heading to his desk for the ME’s final report, Nolan strode down the hallway leading to the smaller vice department. “The information must be noteworthy and highly sensitive to request an urgent face-to-face meeting.”

  Behind him, Coyote mumbled a greeting in passing a uniformed officer.

  Monumental effort focused Nolan’s thoughts away from the strong-willed enigma and back to the problem at hand. Someone was determined to bury Keiki, in one fashion or another.

  Stale air and burned coffee filled the room dedicated to the dumping ground of all offenses deemed not belonging to the two-man vice squad.

  Two desks sat at slight angles to one another, one sitting empty since the senior detective’s retirement. Filling slots remained low on the captain’s to-do list.

  “Hey, Bitner. What’cha got for us?” Coyote rolled a chair over to where the room’s lone occupant sat. The older detective’s years of experience surpassed anyone else’s in the department.

  Nolan mimicked his move on the other side for visual access to the computer monitor. “I take it you got something back on the powder? You must’ve burned the phone lines talking with other departments.”

  “Got a call from an investigator in Baltimore. He caught wind of our powder deaths and pulled some strings.” The plastic of Bitner’s mouse cracked under his grip when he jiggled it to wake up his computer.

  “Let me guess. The feds are anxiously waiting to help us.” Coyote leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

  “Yeah. There’s one in with the captain now, because what we have on the task force isn’t enough.” Bitner opened several windows to reveal various reports. “This first one is Shelly Harock’s drug analysis. As suspected, it was laced with a large dose of Fentanyl. She didn’t stand a chance.”

  “She was raped, too, but I don’t know if… before or after. I haven’t read the full report.” Despite years on the force, Nolan braced himself for what he knew to come.

  “According to the ME, the defensive bruising suggests before.” The older detective scrubbed a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Shit. It never gets easier.”

  “What about the professor and the coed at the Foam Glitter race?” Coyote took the lead, as if knowing Nolan needed time to collect his thoughts.

  “Identical compound. But that’s not the interesting part. It seems the narcotic laced with the Fentanyl is a new designer drug.”

  “Like something a chemistry professor might cook up with his student’s help?” Nolan asked, knowing they’d just waded into deeper waters. “Shit.”

  “No. Baltimore vice says they’re coordinating with various departments around the country along with the DEA. This stuff is coming in from Central America.” Bitner pulled up another report with Baltimore’s city seal at the top. “They also said this new drug has the highest kill rate they’ve seen.”

  “What’s this got to do with four college kids and a professor?” Coyote offered Nolan a measured look that denied Keiki’s innocence.

  Bitner swiveled to Nolan and leaned back in his chair to offer his full attention. “Four? Explain.”

  “We have a missing student, Gabriella Kiernan. Left a frat party late at night and hasn’t been seen since. One of her professors was killed,” Nolan explained.

  “In a locked room on the second floor of his lab,” Coyote added. “And by locked, I mean locked from the inside.”

  “Someone had a key,” the vice detective mused. “The missing student?”

  “I don’t think so.” Nolan couldn’t explain why those puzzle pieces didn’t fit together in his mind.

  “And the fourth student?” Bitner turned to Coyote when Nolan remained mute.

  “The student nailed at the Foam Glitter race was not the intended victim. Nolan was at the scene and shoved a friend of Shelly and Gabby aside when a drone dive-bombed them. The victim happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Well, shit. That means we have one live… something.” With several clicks, the vice detective printed out the reports. “Tell me more about the survivor.”

  “Katherine Tallerman is a mechanical prodigy who designs drones for Harock Industries,” Coyote put the worst of the information out front for the older detective to digest.

  “You think drug runners are muscling Harock into cooperating, using his drones as what, a delivery service?” Bitner pushed his chair back and retrieved the printouts, giving them to Nolan, who nodded in thanks.

  “Sounds plausible,” Nolan confirmed.

  “I was thinking about this while waiting on you two. It would explain them going after Harock’s family.”

  “But not the professor,” Coyote contradicted. “

  “That speaks more of a joint effort. Not sure of the end goal. I’d say the supposed survivor could know a lot more. Where have you two stashed her?”

  “Tucked away nice and safe.” Nolan firmed his jaw, daring his partner to speak.

  “Is that it?” Coyote leaned back and prepared to stand, freezing when Bitner pulled up another screen.

  “No. Actually, I have one more question, and better coming from me before you hear it from the captain and task force.”

  Nolan’s chest iced over with the new picture appearing on screen. It was a close up of the drone that attacked him and his partner in the woods. Beside it was a piece from another drone.

  “The fragment from the Harock crime scene was checked against what you recovered at the campus. The letters match. Katherine Tallerman.”

  “No. Well, the initials yes, but that arm didn’t come from one of her machines.” Nolan retrieved the photos from his envelope and the pictures he’d taken of Keiki’s prototypes. Explaining the fine differences
kept them on thin ice, instead of freezing in the depths below surface.

  “This is a damn intricate scenario, don’t you think?” Bitner asked.

  Vice support would go a long way in convincing the rest of their group to extend a little leeway. An officer’s experience and track record always pulled weight.

  “Because the organization behind this lacks funds, imagination, and access?” Nolan countered. “If the drugs are coming from Central America, you’re talking cartel. Their resources are near limitless.”

  The room remained silent while Bitner considered the issues, then nodded. “Okay, you think she’s an innocent pawn. Possible. Thin, but possible.”

  Nolan pulled out one last fact. “Katherine’s apartment was searched by forensics after a masked thug broke in. No trace of drugs were found, of any kind. However, they did find an audio transmitter.”

  “In a college kid’s private domain,” Coyote supplied.

  “Someone’s been keeping tabs on the occupants,” Nolan confirmed.

  “I heard the bastard wore a mask and shot a uniform,” Bitner added. A quiet moment of commiseration followed.

  “If she were working with a cartel, in any capacity, they wouldn’t have bothered concealing their identity. It wouldn’t make sense to kill her or take her down.” Nolan breathed a sigh of relief when the vice detective nodded in agreement.

  “Devil’s advocate,” Bitner said and arched a brow, holding his hands out in surrender. “Someone could be trying to muscle in on an ongoing operation.”

  “Again, no drugs in Keiki’s apartment, no priors, and no indication she would delve into that world. It’s not the crowd she hangs with, according to her professors.”

  “What about her friends, Shelly and Gabriella?” Bitner asked.

  Coyote fielded that question. “As far as Shelly is concerned, she was a business major being groomed to take the reins of Harock Industries. We believe she was clean.”

  “And the other girl?”