Cold Truth

by Susan Sleeman

  “Then you’re welcome.” His smile widened, and he gestured at a small conference room where a plastic evidence bag sat in the middle of the table waiting for them. Her good mood evaporated.

  “Go ahead and have a seat.” Blake marched around to the far side of the table.

  She sat across from him. Coop straddled the chair next to her, and Eryn sat on Kiera’s other side. Blake slid the bag to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to pick it up. She hesitantly leaned closer to stare at the photo, memories from last night flooding her brain.

  Coop leaned in, too. “You mentioned that you’d never seen this before.”

  “Not before last night, but it obviously was taken on one of my trips here.” She kept her focus on the picture. “This was probably taken from a distance and zoomed in because I would have seen a person with a camera.”

  “Do you visit Kevin’s work often?” The suspicion missing from Coop’s tone all morning was firmly lodged in place again.

  “I do.” She looked at the others. “That might seem odd to you all, but we’re both chemists. We found each other’s workplaces very interesting.”

  “Can you narrow it down to a date when this visit occurred?” Blake asked.

  She shook her head. “My calendar has all the dates of when I visited, but I don’t know on which trip the picture was taken.”

  “You’re wearing a jacket in the picture,” Blake said. “That might help pinpoint the time of year.”

  “Or not,” she replied. “I always wear a jacket at the coast. It’s much colder here than I’m used to.”

  “What about your hairstyle?” Blake asked. “Women are always changing that up, and it looks a little shorter here.”

  “I haven’t changed it in years, other than getting a trim. But we could look at my calendar to see if I’d had it cut near a visit.”

  “Can I look at the back of the picture?” Eryn asked.

  “Sure,” Blake said.

  She flipped the bag. A wide smile brightened her face, and she pointed at black lettering on the white background. “This picture was printed in a store kiosk. The control code is auto-printed on the back and will allow us to find the location and date where the photo was printed.”

  “How will that help?” Kiera asked.

  “The store may have security cameras or a credit card may have been used to pay for the print,” Coop answered for her. “But I suspect your caller is too smart to get caught this way.”

  “I can help with that,” Blake said. “If you’ll fill out an official report on your brother’s disappearance, I can request a warrant for the store’s financial records and video once Eryn determines the location.”

  “I’m more than glad to fill out the report.” Kiera turned to Eryn. “How long will it take to locate this store?”

  “I’ll have to bring in a buddy of mine who can decipher the code for me.” Eryn frowned. “I hate to say this, but odds are good that we won’t have the information before your deadline.”

  7

  Nine hours. They only had nine hours, and they were no closer to finding Kevin’s abductor.

  Kiera couldn’t sit around and wait. She had to do something. She’d already reviewed her calendar and found three dates when she might have visited Kevin after a haircut, but they had no use for this information yet. Otherwise, she was fresh out of things to do to help.

  She got up. Paced across the cabin. Back again. Across. Back.

  “Hey,” Coop said from his spot on the sofa where he’d been looking at his phone. “Pacing won’t help.”

  “But I have nothing else that will.”

  “Why don’t we take a walk? Clear our heads and think about that picture in a new light.”

  “Okay,” she said, but she didn’t really want to go walking in the beautiful sunshine. Maybe enjoy the glorious day when her brother was in who knew what kind of trouble.

  Coop grabbed the photocopy they’d made of the picture, and they stepped outside. The sun shone down warm and lovely, but the ocean wind was brisk and crisp. She tugged her jacket tighter.

  The sound of gunfire rang in the distance again, and a pair of officers with rifles in hand hurried in that direction. What must it be like to work under these conditions? To work in a field where training on such dangerous weapons was a necessity? She was uneasy just being around it all.

  “Why don’t you look at this again?” Coop handed the copy to her. “Maybe there’s something in the picture that seems off to you.”

  She stopped to peer at the paper, but she’d studied it so many times that she didn’t see anything new or odd. She sighed. “Maybe this lead has to do with the lab since it’s in the background. Like I saw something that day that I should be remembering.”

  “Which we can’t answer until you know for sure the day it was printed. And even then, the person who took it could have waited weeks, months, even years to print it.” Coop started walking again. “I know we asked this like a hundred times, but is there anything that might connect it to a spinneret?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “Especially since it’s not even a process Kevin uses.”

  “Is there something about the building that stands out?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it has to do with the road it sits on. Or the lot.”

  “What about the address? Could the numbers be significant?”

  Coop got out his phone and looked up the address. “10345 185th Street. Maybe the numbers are a code. If you combine them all, there are eight digits. What has eight digits?”

  “Not a phone number. How about a password? That could have unlimited digits.” Her mind went to Kevin’s password keeper on his computer where he’d stored a large number of passwords. Could one of them be 10345185? She needed to get a look at his computer again.

  “Could it be something in ChemSpider?” Coop asked.

  “Maybe,” she said, but honestly doubted it.

  “Let’s stop in the conference room and try entering it in the ChemSpider database anyway. We can also search the numbers online.”

  “Good idea.” She picked up speed, and they soon arrived at the same big building where the team had met the prior night, but today she spotted a group of officers seated in chairs in the large open area.

  Riley stood in front of them holding a rifle she’d seen the officers carrying outside. She watched him as she followed Coop along the outside wall.

  “About the AR 15 system.” Riley lifted the rifle and moved the part at the end that you put against your shoulder. “Don’t let me see you with the adjustable stock pushed in. The biggest reason for the adjustable stock is for storage. Yes, it makes it easier for getting in and out of vehicles, but if I’m running a stock that is too short, I’m pulling in too close. Too long, and you can’t get your body properly on it. For accurate shooting, you size the stock to the crook in your elbow.”

  He bent his arm and laid the gun against his inner forearm. It fit perfectly. “Next I want to talk about backup iron sites. You’re probably wondering why I’m mentioning them before optics. Optics batteries go out and optic glass breaks.”

  She had no idea shooting was this complicated. It was all very interesting, and if she wasn’t trying to find Kevin, she might stop to listen in. Instead, she followed Coop into the conference room. Eryn sat at one of the computers lining the wall.

  She looked up. “Didn’t expect to see you two here.”

  “We were on a walk clearing our heads and talking about the picture.” Coop dropped behind a computer. “We wondered if the lab was the clue in the picture, and that lead to wondering if the lab’s address might be significant. I want to enter the digits into ChemSpider and do a little more searching on the Internet.”

  Kiera stood behind Coop, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he entered the number into the search box. She noticed his graceful fingers for the first time. With his big hulking appearance, she’d never expected slender fingers
. Though she had to admit he moved with fluidity, too.

  “Nothing.” He sat back, his head bumping into her.

  She felt the jolt of electricity between them and took a step back. He pivoted to look up at her. Their eyes connected, and the rush of warmth in her chest expanded, feeling much like the fentanyl rush last night.

  “How many digits in the number?” Eryn asked.

  Kiera spun to break the hold he had on her. “Eight.”

  “Okay. What else has eight numbers?” Eryn got a faraway look in her eyes and tapped a finger on her chin. “An IP address could.”

  “IP address?” Kiera asked. “That has to do with computers, right?”

  “It’s the ID of a computer that accesses the Internet.” Eryn turned back to her computer. “I can enter the numbers into a search database to look it up. If the eight digits are an IP address, it will tell us where the computer is located.”

  “Excellent,” Kiera said.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Eryn warned. “This might indeed be an IP address, but your caller seems pretty intelligent. It’s likely he wouldn’t lead us to his home or business this way. And it could turn out to be a private or dynamic IP address. In that case, we won’t find any information.”

  “It’s worth a try.” Coop leaned closer to Eryn.

  “Give me the numbers,” Eryn said, “And I’ll key them in.”

  Coop called them out, and she typed, entering a period after every two numbers. She hit enter, and Kiera held her breath.

  The window opened, revealing the name of a business called Games We Play and a map locating the business in Cold Harbor.

  “Games.” Excitement flooded Kiera’s body. “Could this be our guy? The lead we’ve been looking for?”

  “Can you get the exact address for this business?” Coop asked.

  “No,” Eryn said. “And I don’t know of any business called Games We Play in Cold Harbor.” She started typing the name along with Cold Harbor in a search engine.

  “Gage grew up here,” Coop said. “I’ll call him and ask if he knows anything about this business.” He dug out his phone and stepped away, but Kiera kept her attention on Eryn.

  “I can check a business registry database to see if Games We Play is listed.” Eryn accessed the database and entered the name. “Nothing. Not a single thing. Could be such a small, unincorporated company that they aren’t listed.”

  “Or it doesn’t exist.” Coop stepped back over to them. “Gage’s never heard of it either. He’s calling his parents now to ask them if they recognize the name.”

  Kiera tried not to let her balloon of hope deflate. “If it doesn’t really exist, could this be a coincidence?”

  “Not likely. Might be an Internet business only. I can search domain names.” Eryn opened a website called ICANN WHOIS where she entered the business name. “This site has a database of registrations for all websites and will check all the variables like .com, .net, etc.”

  The page churned and soon “No Records Found” appeared on the screen.

  Kiera’s hope disappeared. “So it’s not a website.”

  “Not on the Internet that the public sees, but it could be on the darknet. Let me check that out.” Eryn opened a browser called TOR and started typing.

  “Darknet?” Kiera couldn’t believe how unaware she was about all of this. “What’s that?”

  “A hidden computer network,” Coop replied. “It’s used for illegal activities so most people haven’t heard of it. It lives beneath the Internet that everyday users access, and even below the deep web that isn’t accessible by a typical search engine.”

  Kiera shook her head. “There are layers to the Internet? I’m so clueless.”

  “Most people are.” Eryn looked up. “The deep web holds libraries, government sites, and member-only sites. Sites that only certain people need to see. The darknet is different. It’s intentionally hidden even deeper, allowing website owners and users to be entirely anonymous. Makes them virtually impossible to track and gives them the freedom to engage in illegal activities.”

  “Like what?” Kiera asked.

  “Drug sales. Sales of stolen data. Weapons. There are sites kind of like Amazon where you can buy these things.”

  Kiera gaped at Eryn. “I can’t imagine Kevin could be mixed up with anyone involved in something like that.”

  Coop turned to look at her. “It would be the perfect place to sell his biotoxin.”

  “Okay, I’m in,” Eryn said and the screen churned as it was trying to open.

  Kiera pinned her attention on the monitor and waited. Counting. One. Two. Three. The window opened to reveal a video feed of Kevin.

  Bound, gagged, and blindfolded he sat in a dark room, a spotlight shining on him.

  The blood drained from Kiera’s head. She clasped onto the back of Coop’s chair to stay upright.

  “Kevin?” Coop asked to confirm.

  She nodded, but her mouth opened and closed because she couldn’t form a single word. Not even utter a gasp of shock. She’d been certain someone had taken Kevin, but she never expected to see him like this. Never.

  She ran her gaze over his body, stopping at his hands, fearing what she might see, but all ten fingers were intact. A good thing, right? Yes, but it sure didn’t explain how the fingerprint reader had been accessed without him present.

  Oh, Kevin, no. Did you do what they said you did?

  No. She wouldn’t think that way. He’d never steal a deadly toxin. He had no reason to do so. There had to be an explanation. They just had to work harder to find it.

  Kiera dragged her focus from Kevin to the upper left side of the page where a digital clock ticked down from eight hours and five minutes. A large white dialog box sat next to it with the comment, If you’re seeing this Kiera, congratulations you succeeded and Kevin will live another day. Type your name in the box to confirm and open the next level.”

  “Can you believe the nerve of this guy?” Anger vibrated through Eryn’s words.

  “Enter my name,” Kiera directed.

  “No!” Coop shouted. “Don’t.”

  Kiera spun on him. “Why not?”

  “The second your name is entered he’ll start another twenty-four hour countdown. We can let the clock run while Eryn researches this site.”

  Eryn chewed on her lip. “Don’t get too excited about me finding more information. This is the darknet. There are so many layers between the site owner’s real identity and this site that I’ll be led to proxy after proxy and won’t likely be able to find any helpful information.”

  Coop crossed his arms. “I still say we wait. You never know what we could turn up in that time.”

  Kiera shook her head. “That means Kevin will be held longer. I want to bring him home as soon as possible, so we need to get on with the next part of the game.”

  “I understand that.” Coop looked at her, and his expression softened. “And I don’t want him to suffer longer either, but discussing it rationally could—in the long run—bring him home sooner. I’d like to get Blake and the team together to review the information.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Eryn said. “I agree with Coop.”

  “Fine,” Kiera said and looking back at Kevin, she dropped onto a nearby chair to wait for the others to arrive.

  “Let me get that going.” Coop stepped across the room, and Kiera heard him talking to Gage.

  Eryn faced her. “You should know Coop is the last person on the team to take the cautious approach. Means he must really believe it’s necessary.”

  “He likes to take risks?” Maybe risks with her brother’s life.

  “Yeah.” Eryn appraised her. “By the look on your face I shouldn’t have said anything. Now you’re wondering if you can trust him to bring your brother home alive.”

  “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Eryn said. “But you can trust him. Everyone on the team actually. We won’t risk Kevin’s life.”

  Ki
era nodded, but she still wasn’t sure she trusted them. Maybe she could never trust them with Kevin's life. Twin bonds were precious. Others didn’t understand that, and she’d never been able to explain it. “At least you now know that Kevin isn’t in on this.”

  Eryn frowned.

  “You still don’t believe that?” Kiera tried to control her voice, but it shot into the ear-piercing range.

  “I believe from what you say that he would never put you through something like this, but I also don’t know if this video is live. Someone could’ve taped it, and they’re the one who posted it. Why, I don’t know…other than, as Coop said, to throw the police off track.”

  Kiera glanced at the solid wall of Coop’s back as he talked.

  Could she trust him to have her and Kevin’s back?

  He seemed like a good guy, but the stakes here were big. Enormously big.

  Suddenly, she felt so alone. Something she hadn’t ever felt. Sure, she chose to live alone, but that was her choice. Her decision. Kevin disappearing was totally out of her control, and it was time to admit she needed help to find him. Needed this team. Maybe God, too. But after the way she’d left Him behind along with her family, she had to wonder if He would be there for her now. Or if she even had a right to ask.

  8

  Coop felt defeated and that didn’t happen often. Kiera, Blake, the team—minus Riley and Alex who were still involved in training—had been meeting for an hour now and hadn’t come up with a solid lead. They could all use a break, but they couldn’t afford to take the time. Not with the clock still counting down.

  He stared at the video feed of Kevin on the big TV. “You’re sure you can’t track this site, Eryn?”

  She frowned. “Like I said before, there’s no easy way to trace the website owner, or the website host, or even the domain registration.”

  Coop shifted in his chair. “What about the box where Kiera is supposed to enter her name. That information has to go somewhere, right?”

  Eryn nodded. “I already checked it out while we were waiting for everyone to get here and it’s another dead end. I’m telling you guys. As far as finding the owner’s information, the website is a bust. Even the FBI can’t track most of these sites back to the owners or the users. That’s what makes the darknet so successful, and why our suspect feels comfortable using it.”