Firewall

by DiAnn Mills

  After three tries, Aaron returned the phone. “I still don’t believe it.”

  “We could take you to where he’s being held.”

  He stiffened. “I don’t need to see him. This is a setup for something, and I’m not playing your game. I have business to handle.”

  “Look,” Joe said. “I used to work with your dad, and back then he was one of the best. We have no idea why he went rogue. But I bet you do.”

  “He’s still a great agent. But he’s sick of his job. Ready to retire.” He rubbed his sparsely whiskered cheek. “I’m not going to say anything that would incriminate him.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Joe picked up the pen. “We think you might be able to assist us in figuring out your dad’s problem. Are you willing to answer a few questions for us?”

  “Would it help him? He was framed, right?”

  “We think so.” Not a muscle moved on Joe’s face. “I hate this when it’s about an old friend.”

  “All right. I’ll do what I can.”

  “Where do you work?”

  “Medically disabled.” He shifted in the chair. “Diabetes. Heart’s not good either.”

  “I suppose you get a disability check?”

  Aaron nodded.

  “Where do you live?”

  “With my dad. What do you think?”

  Joe’s features softened as though what he planned to say next was difficult. “Aaron, do you have a gambling problem?”

  “Did my dad say that?”

  Joe narrowed his gaze. “What do you think?”

  “If you’re asking if I play cards, the answer’s yes. Have to do something to keep busy. Do I have a problem with it? No. Dad’s always on me about my habit, as he calls it.”

  “Really?” Joe pointed to his BlackBerry. “I have a report stating you’ve built a huge gambling debt. The fellas you owe aren’t exactly pillars of the community. We have the list. How are you handling it?”

  Contempt moved into Aaron’s face. “I have it under control.”

  “Doesn’t look like your disability check would begin to cover your bills. Is your dad helping you pay them off?”

  “My finances or Dad’s are none of your business.”

  “It’s our business when your dad breaks the law to pay off your bills.”

  “Then he shouldn’t have gotten caught.”

  “Sounds real grateful, especially when he can’t pay your way while sitting in jail. For that matter, he’s going to be in jail for a long time. Hard for him to send you an allowance when he’s not earning any money. What about the heart replacement? Do you have someone lined up to foot the medical bills?”

  Aaron fumed. “I don’t appreciate the guilt thing.”

  Joe opened Aaron’s file and leafed through it. “From this list, who do you owe?”

  “Hey, those guys play for keeps. Besides, you said you had names.”

  “We do. But I’m sure there’s one who has you running for the border.”

  Aaron glared and shook his head. “Not going there.”

  “Okay, I see you’re afraid. Who are your dad’s friends?”

  “None he told me about.”

  “Nobody who comes around? Phones him?”

  “I don’t monitor his after-work hours.”

  “Looks like he should have monitored yours.” Joe picked up his legal pad, where he’d written a page of his questions and Aaron’s answers, or lack of. “By the way, whoever hired your dad has a contract out on him. So if he’s able to post bail, he’s a dead man.”

  Aaron’s eyes widened. “You’re crazy. My dad’s a smart man.”

  “We thought so too. Looks like we’re done here. Understand your gambling buds will be interviewed.”

  Aaron paled. “Please don’t contact them.”

  “No choice. If you think of anything, give us a call.”

  “I thought you were his friend.”

  “I am. But right now you’re the only one who can help him.”

  “I can’t.” Aaron’s hands trembled. “Look at his record. And he takes care of me.”

  Joe huffed. “Should have thought about that long before now.”

  Uncle Joe had officially pulled off his gloves.

  “He didn’t tell me where he got the money. I assumed he borrowed it. Or had it in the bank.”

  “As I said, you should have thought about your choices instead of yourself.”

  Aaron stared at his hands, folded on the tabletop. They shook. “I did hear one name mentioned.”

  Joe poised his pen. “I’m waiting.”

  “Murford. Dad met with him a few times.”

  CHAPTER 36

  NEW YORK

  10:35 A.M. EASTERN, WEDNESDAY

  Murford’s dead. I didn’t order the hit, and media claim a sniper got him.

  I know who arranged it. When he’s finished with our business, will I end up the same? My bodyguards won’t be able to stop him. He’s that good. I shudder, then shove the trepidation away. I climbed this ladder to the top rung by being smart—and fearless.

  What’s left of Murford’s people understand I mean business. So I’ll let them think I’m responsible for his murder. The problem is, I don’t have anyone to keep the team in line. May need to dispose of them sooner than I thought.

  My contact will find out where Murford moved the kid. If she’s even alive. I need her as bargaining power for Young in case my hacker doesn’t come through.

  I grit my teeth. I was told al-Qaeda would take credit for the airport bombing. Nothing there has changed. Then why are my nerves on edge?

  I read e-mail on my phone. Save needs help to hack into the software. Wants to bring in another person whom he claims works at his caliber. I pop two Tums, reminding me I should buy stock in the company. Save’s question annoys me. He claimed to have the expertise needed to access the software. He got into Houston FBI’s files to find a weak link for me. Bringing in one more person spreads me thinner. But why should I stress over the details when my plan is to eliminate all those on the payroll?

  I walk to my wall of windows looking out on the city. Defiance ripples through me.

  Who would ever miss a couple of lowlifes who make a living from breaching computer systems? And if it happened as soon as they completed the job, their deaths would go unnoticed by a country twisted in the upheaval of the bombing. There’s no paper trail. Nothing points to me.

  I have the person’s number, a woman. I’ll see if she measures up to my expectations.

  CHAPTER 37

  10:25 A.M. WEDNESDAY

  Taryn opened her eyes in a hospital bed to a repeat of what had happened after the airport bombing. FBI Special Agent Grayson Hall leaned over her with his incredible blue eyes, but this time they were filled with gentleness. She’d grown to rely on this man, and if she were honest, other feelings surfaced. Less than a week ago, she’d thought she was in love with Francis Shepherd. Her heart was fickle.

  “Hey, superagent.”

  She smiled at him and nodded at Joe. “I think I have a hard head.”

  “Good thing you do,” Grayson said. “I’m going to make sure you’re fitted for a helmet.”

  “Is that before or after you show me how to use a gun?” Then she remembered how Murford fell on her, sending her onto the pavement. “Is he dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “Another life wasted. Were they there to kill him or nab me?” She took a breath. “Or both?”

  “His body protected you. A single sniper shot.”

  She moved her head and moaned.

  “They have pain meds for you.”

  How different from the first time, when he denied her relief. “I want to talk first.”

  “We have plenty of time for chitchat later.” Grayson’s voice sounded more tender than she could ever remember.

  “Chitchat?”

  “Listen to the man, Taryn,” Joe said. “He’s wiser than he looks.”

  She closed her eyes and willed a
way the sledgehammer in her skull. “I tried to get him to provide names and places.”

  “You did a fine job. The SSA may recruit you yet.”

  With the trouble slamming against her from every direction, she doubted the SSA would offer anything but an invitation to stay away. “What about Zoey? He made a call in the restaurant, and I saw a video of her.”

  “Agents were able to trace her location from Murford’s phone.”

  She wanted to sit up, question him more. “Are they on their way?”

  “Yes. As soon as I hear from the team, so will you.”

  “How long?”

  “Depends. It’s a cabin on the outskirts of Huntsville State Park.”

  The video of Zoey had looked like a rustic setting. “Was there anything else recorded the FBI could use?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. We found a consistent number to New York City.”

  “I don’t think Murford had a reason to lie about the bombing. If anything—” A gush of pain swept across her head.

  “Hey, no more talk.”

  “Not yet. I’m waiting for the call about the hacking job. What more can you tell me?”

  Grayson frowned, but he’d get over her noncompliance. “We learned Vince has been paying his son’s gambling debts, and his son needs a heart transplant. Vince had met with Murford at least once. You know, I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

  “I can keep a secret.” She closed her eyes. “I also need to figure out Ethan’s password.”

  “Laurel’s working on it.”

  But Agent Evertson wasn’t her, and she knew Ethan’s eccentric personality. “I’m sure I’ll be fine after a nap.”

  “It’s the second concussion this week,” Grayson said. “You need to rest and heal.”

  She ignored him. “I’m in the ER. Is there an officer at the door?”

  Joe laughed.

  “No. Two agents,” Grayson said.

  “Have you warned them?”

  He chuckled. “Do you plan on going somewhere?”

  His words brought back the afternoon and evening of the bombing, instantly sobering her. “Why are they there? What’s happened?”

  “A call came in . . . threatening you. We’re going to make a transport as soon as the doctor clears you.”

  “Back to your office?”

  He shook his head. “You’ll find out.” His face softened. “When this is over—”

  “I owe you dinner.” Please, Grayson, not yet.

  “But not Tony’s.”

  She offered a timid smile. Did he remember everything she said? “Do you know how long I’ll be here?”

  Grayson glanced toward the door, then back to her. “I heard testing before you’d be dismissed. About four or five hours.”

  Did she dare state the overwhelming fear? Or was it the pain stomping on her courage?

  “Hey, I see panic in your eyes.” He took her hand, and she let him. “When you’re able, take a look at your wristband. It’s an assumed name.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No worries. The agents are Clint and Patti. Clint’s the young guy with all the muscles, and Patti’s a redhead. Knows her stuff. They’re the best, and you’re safe.”

  “I appreciate all you’ve done.”

  “Remember, I taught him most everything he knows,” Joe said.

  Grayson grinned, but he didn’t turn to his uncle. “Anything else bothering you?”

  “I need details on the hacking job.”

  He nodded slowly. “Nearly forgot about that. A bank account’s been set up with your alias.”

  “Write it down for me. My mind’s mush.”

  He jotted the bank, name, and number on a notepad.

  “You have plenty of things to do besides babysitting me,” she said. “Why don’t you and Joe work on what you do best. I know you’ll call the moment you hear about Zoey. You don’t want to make me angry. I have a reputation for being testy in hospitals.”

  Grayson’s BlackBerry indicated a notification, capturing his attention.

  As he read, she watched his face, which didn’t tell her a thing. “What’s going on?”

  “Just following leads from the closed-door congressional meeting. It will take days.”

  “The conspiracy could have a wide range of participants.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Every chance I get.”

  She did like this man. The cell phone assigned to her rang. She caught his gaze, and he handed it to her.

  “Julie Harmon?” a woman said.

  “Speaking.”

  “I understand you have the skills I need.” The voice was muffled. Now to keep the caller on the line.

  “Depends. What are you looking for?”

  “Let’s not dance around this.”

  Taryn blew out her exasperation. “My expertise is accessing technological information.”

  “How good are you?”

  “Top of the charts. Do you want a résumé?”

  “Not really. You came recommended.”

  “I’ve shown him up a few times.”

  “Are you ready to go to work?”

  “How much?”

  “Fifty grand.”

  The same amount deposited into her banking account after the bombing.

  “What’s the deadline?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “How do I contact you?”

  “Through our mutual friend.”

  “Easy enough. How do I get the assignment?”

  “Same venue. He’ll give you the instructions.”

  “I need ten grand up front to get started.”

  The caller swore. “Five. I need the job done now.”

  “No deal.”

  “All right, ten. Give the account information to our friend. Keep your mouth shut or you won’t live to regret it.”

  “Been there before, and I don’t scare easily.”

  The call disconnected. She glanced at Grayson, who’d heard every word. “If this isn’t our case, then we’ll bust open a new one,” he said.

  But all she could think about was one more person threatening her life before she found Zoey. Grayson’s eyes confirmed what she suspected and questioned about herself. Her heart had fallen prey to the man before her.

  CHAPTER 38

  12:10 P.M. WEDNESDAY

  Grayson shouted, “Yes!” Heads turned in the op room, but he waved them away. The call Taryn received had an origin in New York City, another connect to the recent intel. Agents were working on defining the location. The caller had slipped, possibly eager to secure the hacking deal.

  He scooted his chair back and stared into the computer screen. According to the call Taryn received, the buyer had a time stamp on access to the software. Possibly Friday morning’s launch date of exporting LNG? Did the bombing fit? He scanned through the hundreds of notations about the LNG companies in Kitimat and Corpus Christi. Although industries that used natural gas wouldn’t want to see prices rise, would any of them resort to the measures seen in the past few days? The lengths had taken time, money, and superior planning. If he only had the opportunity to get into the heads of the thousands of agents working this case. Most of them probably felt the same way. Experts were running data through software designed to show stats and probability.

  Murford claimed he could have been a victim at the airport. His role was to give Taryn’s devices to Breckon before the departure. Pedraza said he wasn’t involved either. The key rested in the hands of whoever hired Taryn to hack into her own project. His gut told him, like so many other agents on this case, that the two crimes were connected.

  But his and Joe’s assignment was working through this case with Taryn. She needed more than a few hours in the hospital after the week’s trauma. Knowing her, she’d request a laptop before the day was over.

  His mind focused on the morning’s shooting, connecting the dots. He sensed Joe’s eyes on him.

>   “Your mind is racing,” Joe said. “I want to hear it.”

  Grayson nodded. “The bullet that killed Murford came from the rooftop of an area several hundred feet behind Denny’s.”

  “Your point?”

  Grayson grabbed his keys. “Joe, did you see the caliber of rifle used today?”

  “A 7mm. Sniper or military style. I’m betting somebody saw our killer.”

  “Let’s take a ride to Denny’s.”

  “Our guys are there.”

  “But we’re not,” Grayson said. “There’s a back way out of the strip center.”

  “It leads to a one-way street. I’m sure agents have questioned everyone.”

  “Never stopped me before.”

  Joe shifted his jacket. “You’re so much like me it’s scary. Must be why we work good together.”

  At Denny’s, yellow tape blocked off the crime scene. Grayson whipped his Mustang to the small retail stores behind the restaurant—nail salon, pawnshop, real estate office, bakery, and shoe repair store. Although those who’d been at their businesses had already been interviewed, fresh questions could stir up something new.

  Only one gal in the nail salon spoke English, and she was terrified. The pawnshop owner hadn’t seen anything. The manager of the real estate office said no one got there before nine o’clock. The bakery owner offered them each coffee and a doughnut.

  By the time they walked into the shoe repair shop, Grayson had about given up. A teen with Down syndrome greeted them. He wore a name tag that read Luke.

  “Is the owner available?” Grayson said and pulled out his badge. “We’re from the FBI.”

  Luke paled. “I’ll . . . I’ll get my grandpa.”

  An older man wearing an Astros baseball cap walked from the back of the shop. “Yes, sir, how can I help you?”

  After Grayson introduced himself and Joe, he got right to the crime. “I know other agents have been here this morning after the shooting at Denny’s, but I have another question for you.”

  “I didn’t see a thing,” the man said. “I was working in the back.”

  “There’s an alley behind your shop. Did you happen to hear or see anyone right after the shooting?”