"Try that one first." He pointed to a file named Tate, J with a long number after it.
Elliot double clicked and a file popped onto the screen.
"We need to keep our movements minimal and fast. Trust me, somebody is onto this already, but it's cool. I've got this breadcrumb trail bouncing a spider's web across the globe with an evolving encryption algorithm that the Chinese recently knocked out. So yeah, this one will get some real attention and the Chinese will now be on my ass."
With a nod, I quickly scanned the details. "This is the right file."
"I'll image them to my desktop."
Elliot nudged me out of the way and quickly copied the entire file over. A blue line slowly inched across the screen, my heart rate increasing with each second that passed by. Finally, it disappeared and a few keystrokes later, Elliot logged off.
"Damn, that's cool. Our own little hacker. Good job, man." Alex slapped Elliot on the back with a broad grin. "Now let's take a look at these files."
Elliot double clicked the first file. Inside was a long line of photos, which he selected and opened up. They popped onto the screen, stealing my breath and making me want to crumple to the floor. I squeezed the back of the chair I was leaning on, grateful when Zach's hand silently snaked across my back and pulled me against him.
Images of my house wrapped in yellow tape were suddenly replaced by the floppy armed corpses of my parents.
I gasped and covered my face. Zach's hand cupped the back of my head and pushed me into his shoulder.
"It's okay. I'll tell you when it's over," he croaked.
The room fell silent. I could feel their struggle to stay calm as they sifted through images of my parents, dead on the floor. I shifted my head on Zach's shoulder. On the floor? My mother didn't die on the floor. Well she did, but her body was leaning up against the kitchen cupboards. Pushing away from Zach, who tried to hold me in place, I wriggled free and turned to the screen.
"Go back." It took all my courage to utter the command. I chewed the edge of my mouth as I waited for Elliot to start clicking the arrow button. "Back. Back. Back." He sped through them and I leaned down over the screen. "Stop."
I felt like I was swallowing cinder as I gazed at the image. My insides trembled, but I finally found my voice. "She wasn't lying like that. She was leaning against the kitchen cabinet. She couldn’t have fallen and landed way over there.” I pointed to the image of my mother lying in the middle of the kitchen floor.
"Are you saying she's been moved?"
I nodded. "The scene looks all wrong. Dad was over there." I pointed to the edge of the kitchen, closer to the refrigerator. "He and Tenner fought. There was a shot and then Dad fell, landing on his back." I leaned closer to the screen, knocking Elliot's shoulder. "What does that gun on the floor even mean? Why didn't he just take it with him?"
"Well, we have to look at the crime report to see, but remember the newspaper articles implied that you shot your parents and ran." Alex cleared his throat and gave me a tight-lipped smile.
"And I was dumb enough to just leave the gun at the crime scene?"
The reporter gave an awkward shrug.
I slammed the back of the chair and moved away from the table. "What does the report say!"
"Um..." Elliot fumbled with the keys and opened up the second file, double clicking on the first report. Alex immediately started reading the information.
I watched his lips move as he took in the words, before finally I couldn't stand it any longer. Pushing past Zach who was studying me with worried eyes, I squinted over his uncle's shoulder and started reading.
"That's not right. It didn't happen like that." I pointed to the sentence about how my father was shot from behind. "That's a lie too." I frowned as I found another fact inconsistent with my memories. By the time I got to the end of the report, I was filling the room with a steady stream of curses. "That's all bullshit! They've taken the evidence they did have and just made up a completely different story! As if I would kill my parents, it's such crap! Where the hell would I get a gun from anyway? I was thirteen years old!"
"Did your dad own one?" Alex asked.
I paused, closing my eyes with a sigh. "Yes, it was in a lock box upstairs, under his bed."
"Because the report says he was killed with his own gun." Alex pointed to the screen. "And your fingerprints were on the weapon."
"I didn't do it!" I threw my arms wide.
"We know that." Zach's soft voice reached me through my red haze. "He probably planted them there. Your fingerprints would have been all over the house, he could have easily transferred them."
"He must have set the whole damn house up before he left." My words were clipped.
"The bullets wouldn't match though. I mean, sure I've only watched crime shows, but don't the bullets have to match the gun?" Elliot spun in his chair to look up at us.
"The evidence has been tampered with. Tenner would have taken over the investigation and manipulated it so that it would turn out the way he wanted. I don't know about the bullets, but obviously that little detail was overlooked." Alex rubbed his chin, searing the screen with a black glare.
"And we all know why." I pointed at the computer with a shaking finger. "See whose damn signature is on all this stuff? William Fucking Tenner!"
I wanted to pick up the laptop and throw it across the room. Instead, I sufficed by slamming my hands on the counter. I had never felt such rage before. I'd always been too engulfed by fear to let the feeling grow, but it was bubbling inside me now, bursting to break free.
"I don't get it though. If they did think she was the killer then why wasn't there an all out manhunt for her. They think she killed an FBI agent. They'd be all over that." Elliot frowned.
"Lucy's been off the grid since it happened. She would have been pretty hard to find." Zach smiled and winked, pride cresting over his expression. "And even when she did finally resurface, she had new names, personas, different looks."
"I think it's personal though too. Tenner doesn't want everyone hunting for me. He wants to find me himself. He wants that satisfaction. I just know it." My shoulders jolted with a shiver and I crossed my arms. "How the hell can we bring this guy down? He can fudge an entire murder investigation and then just make it disappear!"
"He can't make evidence disappear." Alex spoke softly.
"Yes, he can!"
With a sigh he turned back to the screen and opened up a photo. An image of my parents popped up. I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Look at it." Alex's firm command forced my eyes open.
"All this stuff." His finger circled my dead parents. "This would all go into evidence. The bullets taken from your parents' bodies, their clothes, their jewelry. It'll be somewhere, he can't just get away with losing that stuff."
"I'm pretty sure he could. He's probably destroyed it."
"Yeah." Alex nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, he may have. But what if he missed something. You saw the scene play out. If we went back to that house, you could walk through the room, maybe spot something that could give this guy away. We don't need much, just enough to open the investigation with someone we can trust."
"And who can we possibly trust?"
"The FBI will have an internal affairs gig going. They have to protect their reputation. A sniff of foul play and they'll go after it." Alex tapped his fingers on the table, excitement flittering across his face. "The San Francisco Chronicle has a huge circulation. If we get enough for me to write a credible article, the FBI will be scrambling to fix it." He turned to me with a confident grin. "Lucy, we've already got you. We just need a little extra powder in our keg and we can blow this whole thing wide open. If an investigation into Tenner starts, something will come out. Like you said, he's bound to be involved in other criminal activity."
"And how do we stay safe while that's going on?"
Alex's brow bunched. "Let's just take it one step at a time. First, we need some evidence." His blue eyes hit me
with a persuasive force I knew I wouldn't be able to refuse. "Fancy a road trip?"
My gut plummeted.
Los Angeles.
Could I honestly go back there?
I looked to Zach's steady gaze and felt my heart squeeze.
I had to.
It didn't matter what I wanted. I needed Zach in my life and if that was going to happen, I needed to do everything in my power to bring an end to William Tenner's hold over me.
Chapter 10
LUCY
The drive to L.A. took five hours. We stopped for lunch along the way, so it was basically six hours of silence. I couldn't find it in me to speak. I was so nervous, my head felt like it was being squeezed by a vise. My vision kept blurring with images of my parents' corpses.
I'm not sure if it was out of respect for me or whether they all just felt too awkward, but none of the guys spoke either. Elliot had insisted on coming. I think he was excited by the idea of playing cop for a day. What did he know? So he'd watched some criminal shows. This was reality! A sickening, terrifying reality. I couldn't get it out of my head that this trip was a huge mistake, but every time I spotted Zach gazing at me or felt his fingers gently brush mine, I knew I had to go through with it.
We reached North Hollywood by three and were pulling into Culver City about half an hour later.
"Which way from here?" Alex flicked a glance at me.
I was frozen in my seat as I took in the familiar surroundings. My middle school was just off the road we were on.
"Right," I croaked.
We drove past Palms Middle School, my throat constricting as I remembered walking out with an excited Maria. Giggling together as we waved goodbye to Patrick de Luca, my first real crush.
My voice dropped to monotone as I directed Alex to my street.
"This one." I pointed out the window and he braked outside a white stucco house with orange tiles on the roof. I gazed up at the second story, spotting my bedroom window. It looked so normal, so peaceful. The lawn needed a mow and the hedges out front were in desperate need of a trim, but the white front door was still the same, the forest green guttering that Dad had spent an entire weekend painting. He'd let me help. I climbed up and down that ladder passing him drinks, clean brushes, more tins of paint. I'd meticulously worked on the down pipe, making sure my strokes were even and perfect. Dad had laughed at me. It's only a down pipe, Lulu.
"Are you ready?"
Zach's soft voice made me flinch. Forcing a brave smile, I nodded and he clicked the backdoor open. We all got out quietly and walked up the path. As we stepped up to the landing, my heart took off. I thought it might burst from my chest it was racing so fast. Alex rapped on the door twice and waited, giving me a sweet smile that told me I was brave.
After a minute of awkward waiting, Alex tried again, but still nothing. Zach bent down to peer through the window, pressing his nose to the glass. "I don't think anyone lives here."
"Why wouldn't anyone be here? I thought the house would have been sold."
"Not necessarily." Alex crouched down to look at the lock on the front door. "It might be yours."
My brain hiccuped. "Excuse me?"
Reaching into his back pocket, Alex slipped out his wallet, pulling his credit card free. "Your parents probably had insurance. The house was paid off and now belongs to you. Usually these kinds are things are set up in a trust and the kids can have the house when they turn 21." Shoving the card into the crack of the door, he jiggled it up and down, trying to free the lock. "If you don't resurface before then, the house will go to auction." He stepped back with a frustrated sigh. The door remained solidly closed. "That's just a guess, of course. I don't know what your parents put in their wills, but we could find out."
He slapped my arm as he walked past me and headed for the back of the house. My mind was reeling as I jumped the fence. I waited for Zach and Elliot to land in the backyard beside me before following Alex. Flicking my thumb at the house, I watched Alex give the back door a jiggle.
"Are you saying this house is mine?"
"Quite likely."
"But I don't want it. I could never live here again after what happened."
With a grunt he stepped away from the door and gave me his full attention. "No, I get that. But you could sell it. Maybe fund your way to college."
I sniggered. "We all know I'm not going to college. I don't even have a legal transcript. I haven't officially attended high school, let alone graduated."
"Not yet you haven't." Alex winked at me then threw a look at Zach before crouching down and trying his credit card trick on the back door.
A thought suddenly came to me as I watched him struggle and I frowned, turning around and heading for the wooden table on the back patio. Behind it sat an old terracotta pot. I peeked inside and smiled, lifting up the top rock and striking gold.
"No way." I shook my head. "Spare key's still here."
I dug it out and walked back to the door, passing it to Alex. He gave me a dry look before taking it off me. "Thanks."
Zach nudged me with his shoulder, giving me a grin as Alex eased the door open and stepped inside. My smile fled the second I walked through the door. The musty smell hid none of my memories, they piled back on top of me like an avalanche.
The orange tiles on the sunroom floor, the faded rug in the corner that Mom wanted to replace. I stepped into the living area feeling heavy, yet fragile. All the furniture was wrapped in plastic or covered with big sheets. The piano was draped in an old quilt, the one that used to hang on the wall in the spare room. I could see myself sitting on the stool and practicing my scales with an evil glare at the black and white keys. I always hated piano practice.
"Should we give you a minute?" Alex asked quietly.
"No, I want to get this done."
"Well, let's go check upstairs first. See if we can find your Dad's lock box."
I nodded, in favor of anything that would delay the trip to the kitchen. Grabbing the bannister I clung to it as we walked up the stairs. My feet were lead and my arms were cotton wool as we reached the top and turned left towards my parents' room. We found the lock box just where I remembered it. It was open.
"We should take it, in case he left his finger prints on it or something."
"He was wearing gloves." Black ones. Leather.
I stepped out of the room and couldn't help walking to my old room. All my posters had been taken down, my drawers draped with a white sheet and my bed sitting naked in the corner. It wasn't my room anymore. Just a shell. A shell that my parents' friends would have spent hours crying in as they wondered what had possessed me to kill my own parents and disappear.
My face bunched as I fought off the tears. I wondered what Maria thought, surely she didn't believe the lies. Had she looked for me? Tried to convince people that I was innocent?
Covering my face, I pinched my forehead between my finger and thumb, not wanting to dissolve into tears. I'd done enough crying in the last 48 hours to last me the rest of my life.
"Was this your room?"
I turned to Zach, wrapping my arms around myself with a shaky nod. "It doesn't feel like it anymore though."
"I understand." He went to reach for me, but I backed away. If he touched me now I'd give into my tears and then I'd never stop crying. "Let's get this over with."
"The others are already down in the kitchen." Zach's brown eyes were filling with anguish. I shook my head and walked past him, pulling myself together as I descended the stairs.
Walking through the dining room, I came to a stop at the basement door. I couldn't help myself. I pulled it open and stepped behind it, crouching down and peering through the crack. I saw Alex standing in the middle of the kitchen, his hands on his hips, turning a slow circle as he soaked it all in. His body morphed to that of my dad. His intense blue eyes always caught everything. I could never lie to him, never hide my disappointment or joy. He knew everything about me. And now he was gone.
My lips sc
runched into a wobbly line as Alex then morphed into William Tenner. The man who destroyed me. He stood over my dead parents with a sadistic grin that morphed to annoyance. His huffing irritation that my dad had died, the way he'd kicked Dad's limp body and then shouted my name. Lucy! You can't hide from me! It burnt my brain, making me want to shatter.
"Lucy? Are you okay?"
I jerked at Zach's soft words, but pushed the door open, stepping back out into the hallway. He was pale with worry. I tried to ease his nerves by giving him a smiling nod, but it was probably more like a grimacing head jerk.
Wise enough to stay silent, he just reached for my hand and gently tugged me into the kitchen.
"Anything?" he asked the others. Elliot was on his hands and knees, checking under cupboards for marks or dents.
Alex was standing back in the corner, studying angles, trying to play out what I'd told him. He moved to the right and I shook my head.
"No, he came from here." I stepped across the room and wrapped my fingers lightly around Alex's throat, pushing him back, until he hit the cupboards. "Then he shot Dad." I pointed my hand to the floor as I let go of Alex and stepped into the kitchen. I slammed my sneaker onto the tiles, pretending to crunch Dad's hand. With an eerie detachment I ran through the rest of the scene.
"What have you got on me?" I said in a deep voice, caught in a trance.
"What do you mean?" Alex spun to face me. "Did Tenner say that?"
I froze, my eyes wide as I fell back against the kitchen counter, gripping the edge until my fingers hurt.
"I remember," I whispered.
"Remember what? Which part?" Alex went to step into my space, but Zach blocked him, giving me room to think.
"My dad, he was..." I licked my lips. "He was an analyst for the FBI. He had found out some stuff about this guy. Tenner. Tenner was his boss, right? That's what they were talking about! When I was eavesdropping." I pointed to the basement door. "Mom said he was a criminal and it was Dad's duty to expose him. And then he showed up and he shot Mom and asked Dad what he had on him." My voice grew fast as the words spilled out of me. "Dad wouldn't say at first so he went to shoot Mom again and then he said something about bribery or...um...something to do with money...and gangs, maybe?" I rubbed my forehead. "He wanted all the information Dad had on him, but Dad said it wasn't in the house. So the guy shot Mom. He—Dad told him, but he shot Mom anyway!" I pointed to the cupboards at my feet. "Dad was screaming her name." Tears overran my ramblings, cutting my story short. "He—he—was just—he just—shot her!"
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