Firewall

by DiAnn Mills

  Pedraza stiffened. “Who said there was a mole?”

  “You did, my friend.”

  “Nothing from me about that.”

  Grayson would let it rest for now, especially with Vince watching. “Whose idea to eliminate me and take Taryn Young?”

  “Murford ordered both, and he had a car waiting.”

  “And you had no idea where he planned to take Young?”

  Pedraza drummed his fingers on the table. “Told you before. I just did what I was told and collected my pay.”

  “We have camera footage of a woman seen with Breckon and Murford. What do you know about her?”

  “Probably Murford’s girlfriend.”

  “I thought no one else was involved.” Grayson showed her pic on his BlackBerry.

  “I forgot about her,” Pedraza said. “Never met her. Just heard him talking.”

  “How can we find her? Name?”

  “You know as much as I do.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Try again. You’re smarter than that,” Grayson said. “I’m ready to change your address.”

  Pedraza frowned. “She goes by Dina. Works in the lounge at a Marriott on the southwest side.”

  Grayson finally had a lead on Phillip Murford and possibly where Zoey was being held.

  CHAPTER 29

  7:00 P.M. TUESDAY

  Grayson pulled into the parking lot of the Southwest Marriott with Joe snoozing beside him. His uncle needed a good night’s rest instead of the lifestyle of a much younger man. But Grayson wouldn’t tell him that. Joe might decide to prove he still had the miles-per-hour stuff.

  An accident on the interstate had stopped them for forty minutes. Then traffic crept to two lanes. An ambulance, fire trucks, HPD, and the vulture swarm of tow trucks, which didn’t help his impatience—a trait he shared with his dad. Joe complained about Grayson’s lead foot, but all the speed-demon remarks had been said before. Just like the speeding ticket comments. Grayson wanted to chew on somebody and spit ’em out. Not exactly the thoughts of a man who placed his trust in God.

  Sleep deprivation sure made an agent testy.

  Taryn’s collapse had shaken him a little more than he cared to admit. How much could her body handle? Joe had initiated an escort to transport her to the health services unit, where she could rest in one of the beds there. The nurse had given her something to relax, and she’d be safe. If Grayson allowed himself to dwell on the matter, he’d admit being a twinge jealous that Joe had been there for her breakdown. Definitely an attraction, but not anything he could deal with now. He’d met the woman only hours ago, and already she’d wiggled into his heart. How incredibly unlike him—Grayson Hall, who never went beyond three dates for fear he might get captured.

  Joe had made hotel reservations until the repairs on his house were finished, but Grayson didn’t want to think about anything at the moment other than apprehending Murford.

  “This old man is getting a little tired,” Joe said as Grayson parked the car. “But don’t tell your SSA.”

  They’d learned Dina Dancer’s shift began at six o’clock. At least they’d catch her fresh before the drinking crowd stole her attention. With Breckon dead, Pedraza in custody, and a vague image of her in incriminating photos, they had leverage for the interview. Grayson and Joe exited the car and walked to the hotel’s entrance.

  “You’re getting personally involved,” Joe said.

  “Nah. Just doing my job and wanting the truth to surface.”

  “Taryn is special. You and I felt it from the start.”

  As soon as Joe said her name, Grayson realized she’d gotten to him bad. Later he’d analyze his feelings. “I’m thinking Dina can lead us to not only Murford but where Zoey’s being held.”

  “I hope you’re right on both counts. Sure would like to end this tonight.”

  Grayson huffed. “You want to see the stats on that?”

  “Not really. I might want to retire again.”

  “Let me refresh you,” Grayson said. “The FBI interviewed over twenty-eight thousand people in the McVeigh case. Nearly a billion pieces of information. The Boston Marathon bombings were up in the thousands.”

  “Look at the manpower working on this. Yes, it’ll take a while, but nothing will go untouched. When arrests are made, it’ll be solid.”

  Joe wasn’t claiming anything Grayson didn’t already know, but his uncle put things in the right perspective. Helped Grayson calm down and zone in on his job, initiating action instead of reacting to every piece of lousy news.

  Inside the hotel, they entered the shadows of the lounge area with orange-and-yellow mood lighting. A man and woman cozied up at the bar, and two couples sat at tables. No server in sight. Grayson made his way to the end of the bar and caught the bartender’s attention.

  “We’d like to talk to Dina Dancer.” Grayson pulled out his ID.

  The bald man eyed them with a frown. “Can’t help you there. She didn’t show up tonight.”

  “Did she call?”

  “No.”

  “Is not showing up for work a habit?”

  “I tried her cell, but it went to voice mail. Not like her.”

  Grayson showed him the photo on his BlackBerry. “Is this Dina Dancer?”

  The bartender examined it and shrugged. “Could be. Not sure.”

  “What can you tell me about her?”

  “Did her job. Kept to herself.”

  “Anyone here she was close to?”

  “She worked her shift alone.”

  “Just you two, huh? Did she talk a lot?”

  “No. We just worked.”

  Grayson knew better. “We’d like her cell number and address.”

  “You’ll have to talk to the manager about that.”

  Grayson showed him a pic of Murford. “Ever seen this guy?”

  He studied the photo. “Can’t say I have.”

  Grayson handed him his card. “If you see or hear from Miss Dancer or the man in the photo, please contact us.”

  After the hotel’s manager provided Dancer’s information, Grayson and Joe viewed the security camera footage from the past week. Videos showed the woman arriving to work and leaving alone. Frustration wove a mean streak through Grayson. One dead end after another.

  This case would be solved by the work of hundreds of people who specialized in specific areas of crime. If he didn’t get some sleep soon, he’d be one fewer set of eyes.

  Grayson drove to Dancer’s small home in less than ten minutes, turning several times in a middle-class subdivision where each resident had the choice of four house plans. At her address, no lights, no car in the garage, and locked doors made for a sour agent, along with his other attitude problems. After a call to headquarters for a search warrant, they were in the car again.

  “What about some dinner and checking into our hotel? I’ll take the foldout couch. The insurance company is picking up the tab,” Joe said. “You look as old as I feel.”

  “My stomach’s complaining, but I’ll drop you off at the hotel. I’m heading to the office to check on Taryn.”

  Joe chuckled. “You’d turn down a hotel with your uncle for a night at the office?”

  Here it comes. “I want to make sure she’s okay.”

  He grinned. “I knew it the moment she walked into the house. The chemistry was hard to miss.”

  Grayson bit back a denial that Joe would see straight through. “She was married on Sunday.”

  “A phony wedding, right down to the preacher. And the groom murdered her best friend.”

  “My point. She trusted and cared for Murford enough to marry him. Although he’s been exposed as a killer, her emotions must be spinning like a top. I doubt she’s looking for a relationship.”

  “She’s scared, afraid for the little girl,” Joe said. “But she trusts you. I can see it in her eyes.”

  This was not a conversation Grayson wanted to continue. “I helped her, believed her when no one else did. Of course s
he’d trust me. That’s it.”

  “What little I know of Taryn, I like,” Joe said. “I’ve always appreciated brains and beauty. Loved your aunt and never found another woman who even came close to her. But I might be tempted with Taryn. Those green eyes and auburn hair are the looks of an angel. Whatcha think, Nephew?”

  Grayson laughed to break the tension. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “Helping me get out of my nasty mood. For keeping my attention on the case and not off on some rabbit trail.”

  “Maybe I just want you to find a woman who makes you happy. Do you need a chaperone?”

  “Once I see she’s okay, I’ll join you at the hotel.”

  “I’m coming too. Grayson, a good woman will help you forget the past. Because you’ve never dealt with it.”

  “That’s God’s role. While you’re on the spiritual path, see what you can do with my dad.”

  CHAPTER 30

  10:06 P.M. TUESDAY

  Taryn startled in her sleep. What had she heard? She opened her eyes to a dark room. Memories of being in the bed-rest area of the FBI’s health services unit brushed across her mind. The nurse had assured her no one would bother her.

  The doorknob twisted, and a small ray of light from the hall filtered in. Who was there? Why hadn’t she insisted on Buddy joining her? She struggled for her foggy head to clear, the effects of the pain meds dulling her senses.

  A hand clasped over her mouth. Unable to breathe, she felt panic whip through her. Murford! He’d managed to get inside the building. Overpowered the agents to get to her. She understood his plan—he’d attempt to learn what he could and then slit her throat like he’d done to Claire.

  He would not win this easily. She peeled back his fingers, then snapped them. As he twisted, she jammed her elbow upward into his groin. He jumped back. Survival ruled her actions, but she couldn’t see in the utter blackness.

  The click of his gun stopped her.

  “That’s right, Miss Taryn. I have the upper hand here. All your fancy self-defense doesn’t do piddly when a gun’s aimed at you.”

  Vince.

  “What’s this about?”

  “You and I are going to walk out of here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “You have no choice. Do you want that kid to live or not?”

  Her heart thudded against her chest while all the mental techniques learned in hapkido vanished. “Where?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  “If I cooperate, then Zoey will be released?”

  “Yes.”

  She could get the edge on him, but what if that ruined her chances with Zoey? Another thought blasted against her head. If she could take him, Grayson could force him to reveal it all.

  “I have Murford on speed dial. If he doesn’t hear from me soon, the kid’s dead.”

  Wouldn’t having a bad guy’s number on speed dial be used against him? She took a deep breath.

  “I know your IQ. I have more than one burner phone.”

  She had no choice. At least this way Zoey had a chance. “I’m a little dizzy.”

  “Get over it.” He stepped back from the door. “You lead the way to the entrance where you arrived.”

  “Why, Vince? You’re an FBI agent. Did Murford offer you that much money?”

  “Shut up. Not another word.”

  “My shoes.”

  “You won’t need them.”

  She obeyed, making her way slowly down the hall toward the double doors leading to the rear parking lot.

  “Hey, Agent Bradshaw,” said the nurse, a kind woman who’d told Taryn all about her two sons, “Ms. Young isn’t in any shape to assist you.”

  “The big boss needs her. Once he’s finished, one of us will bring her back.”

  The nurse smiled and bid them good night.

  Outside, the stale, hot air seemed to suck the life out of her. Vince walked beside her. She wanted to flatten him. . . .

  “My car’s to the left,” he said.

  Headlights whipped into the parking lot. Joe’s T-Bird. One man emerged.

  “Don’t try a thing,” Vince said. “I have nothing to lose here.”

  “Put the gun down,” Joe said.

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Let Taryn go, and we’ll talk about this.”

  Vince jammed the gun into her temple. “Move. Now.”

  Joe walked closer, and she sensed Vince was nervous.

  “Do you really want her brains splattered?” Vince said.

  “The odds aren’t on your side. You shoot her, and you’re done.”

  Taryn considered gaining the edge, but would he have a split-second advantage?

  Someone knocked Vince’s gun from his hand. It fired, and she fell. The person shoved him to the ground and cuffed him.

  “You’re under arrest,” Grayson said.

  “His phone,” she said. “He said Zoey would be killed if I didn’t go with him.”

  Grayson yanked two phones from Vince’s pocket, his BlackBerry and a burner. “Nothing on either phone.”

  “You lied to me.” Red-hot anger swirled through her. “You have no idea where to find Zoey.”

  12:30 A.M. WEDNESDAY

  Grayson and Joe viewed Vince through the one-way glass outside the interview room. They’d waited before questioning him, hoping he’d think through what his charges meant to his future. Vince waved at them as if he could see them, giving his familiar sneer. He’d been where they observed him, formed the questions, and experienced the same frustration at the sight of a guilty man. FBI protocol was a game for Vince, but he’d already lost.

  “You’ve known him longer than I have,” Grayson said. “Why has he requested a lawyer and yet agreed to the interview without counsel?”

  Joe studied Vince. “Everything about him spells contempt. Somewhere along the line, life jolted him, and he’s blaming the FBI.”

  “His bank account indicates Murford paid him well. Money hits his greedy spot.”

  “I think there’s more.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “His son, Aaron, has type 1 diabetes and lives with Vince. The kid’s nearly thirty. Way back when Vince and I worked together, his whole life was his son and his health. We can start there.”

  “You lead out,” Grayson said. “I might get a little blood on his jacket.”

  “Put aside the personal stuff and concentrate on what Vince can tell us. Look how he’s slouched in the chair. He’s angry. Didn’t think he’d get caught.” He pointed to his former partner. “Or maybe he wanted to get caught, and that’s why he wants to talk without his attorney.”

  “But then we can’t use anything in court.”

  “Who cares, so long as we find out how to end this. I’ll come across as the retired agent who saw the good and the bad in the bureau.”

  Joe was a legend type of agent. His tactics might have been a little off the wall, but he got results. Right now, results were what mattered. Joe stepped into the room first.

  “If it isn’t Batman and his sidekick farm boy. Is this the best the FBI can offer? I was expecting waterboarding.”

  Joe smiled while he and Grayson took seats across from Vince. “Is that any way to talk to an old friend?”

  “We were never friends. The FBI isn’t a country club. For the record, I don’t have any friends here.”

  Grayson stuffed his anger and replaced it with an intense scrutiny of Vince’s body language. As usual, the man attempted to gain control of a situation with caustic remarks. Hard to think of him as ever being a decent agent.

  “You were a dedicated agent when you joined the bureau,” Joe said. “You were an outstanding agent. Remember the cases we worked together back when? We solved some tough ones in our time. I think Aaron was still in diapers then.”

  “Right. I figure all I ever accomplished was sleepless nights and watching bad guys hit the streets again.”

  “You a
nd I ended crime sprees, put perps in jail for a long time.”

  “Where’re our medals?”

  “Remember the serial murder case on the southeast side? We worked it for six months.”

  “I’m done risking my life for a government that doesn’t give a lick. Never got me anywhere.”

  “Yes, it did. Commendations. Respect.”

  “You got me confused with another agent. All I ever received was lousy pay and then farm boy for a partner my last year in.”

  His disillusionment made him an easy target for Murford.

  “What happened to turn you sour?” Joe said. “I’ve got a few bones to pick with the bureau too.”

  “None of your business.” Vince leaned back in the chair.

  “You’re right. I should have kept in touch. Been a better partner. How’s Aaron?”

  “He’s fine. Leave him out of this.” Vince’s face hardened.

  Grayson made a mental note to check on Aaron’s background.

  Joe loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. “Remember when we were outnumbered on that weapons case and couldn’t get backup? You and I were left to die.”

  A flicker of empathy touched Vince’s face. “We’re just machines sent to get a job done without adequate funds and manpower.”

  “Don’t I know it. I still wake up at night in a cold sweat with it all.”

  Vince nodded. “I should have got out a long time ago. Before I let it turn me into this.”

  “How’d you get caught up in the airport bombing?” Joe said.

  Vince gave a blank look. “No deal, Joe.”

  “Work with me here. This doesn’t look good. I want to help.”

  Vince clapped his hands slowly three times. “Good job, but I’m not buying it. You almost had me fooled. Nothing else from me until I talk to my lawyer.”

  “Once Jose Pedraza learned you were arrested, he cut a deal,” Grayson said.

  Vince straightened. “You’re lying.”

  “Nope. He cooperated. Something he said was real interesting.” Grayson paused. “His job was to kill you, but he got shot. He said you’d lost your value.”

  “Liar.”

  “Hmm. Pedraza spoke of a contract. . . . They just need to find you. The sad part is you’re only worth two grand. Every ganger out there will be looking for Special Agent Vince Bradshaw.”