“Hello?” Mason asked, waving from his spot on the couch and bringing Zoe back to herself. “Are you still with us?”
Zoe turned back around and crossed her legs beneath the desk where Mason couldn’t see, squeezing her thighs together tightly. “I’ll call Agent Boon tonight,” she told him. “I’ll ask him about the investigation into Aiden’s accident. If there’s anything new, I’ll be sure to tell Aiden. We’ll… see how things go from there.”
Mason rose and nodded, hiding his sense of satisfaction until he was respectfully out of her sight. “You do that. I’ll go see if Amy needs any help with the lunch order. And when you’re ready, you can tell me what really happened when you went to see Lucas this afternoon.”
Chapter 34
Agent Boon was watching the security tapes for what felt like the six hundredth time. He was back at the beginning with the Oregon motel’s outdated and grainy surveillance system watching a man he knew to be Allan Peters driving away in his young female accomplice’s car. They’d traced the license plate and found that the car had been dumped several blocks from a bus station. There was a stack of DVDs with footage from the station and neighboring businesses for several days following the day Peters left the motel.
There had to be something they’d missed. It looked like Peters had boarded a bus for Seattle but beyond that they had found nothing. He hadn’t been caught trying to cross into Canada using any of his known aliases and his photo with several variations he might have made to his appearance had been circulated to all the check points; the security video from those same check points appeared to confirm that Peters had stayed on American soil. But if he didn’t cross to Canada, where could he have gone from Seattle?
Agent Boon’s phone rattled noisily against the desktop as it rang. He paused the video as he reached for the phone, grabbing the empty case and the next did along with it. “Boon,” he answered gruffly.
“Agent Boon? It’s Zoe Dunmore,” a voice he hadn’t heard in several months said. He felt a pain in his belly where his doctor warned him he might be developing an ulcer.
“Miss Dunmore,” he said, reaching for a roll of Tums nearby. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. Mr. Hamilton encouraged me to refrain from calling. He said you were out of the country on personal matters.”
“Yes, I took some time after my father’s death,” she explained. “But I’m back in town now. Back at work, too, actually. I’m the president over here at Dunmore Corp now and was looking to see where your investigation stands. Has any further progress been made in either apprehending Allan Peters or in recovering the funds he stole from the company?”
“As I’ve told Mr. Hamilton on several occasions, I’m afraid the best chance your company has of recovering any funds would be through the civil courts.” Agent Boon launched into an extensive and well-rehearsed speech regarding the legal options he’d given to numerous fraud victims in his many years on the job. “It would be difficult to bring a suit against Peters until he’s in custody – and even then, you’re likely to spend more on lawyers’ fees and court expenses than you’ll ever get from him – or you could go after his family. You might be able to get something from his son or ex-wife since they’ll still have possession of some of the things he purchased with the stolen funds but if a jury believes they were ignorant of his activities – which, having spoken to both of them several times, I’m inclined to believe – then what they have could be attributed to having been bought using the legitimate salary he was paid as an employee of your company.” He hated that there weren’t greater options open to people like Zoe Dunmore, but his job wasn’t to get them their money back; it was to catch and keep the people who’d stolen from them from doing it to anyone else.
“So you haven’t found him,” Zoe said.
Agent Boon sighed. “No. We were able to trace him to Oregon with certainty and we believe he went to Seattle but as far as our predictions that he would cross into Canada and take a plane out from there… We’re combing through everything we have until we find something else and we have our people working to find a digital footprint that fits what we know about Peters and his habits.”
Zoe was quiet for a few moments and Agent Boon could easily picture her bright hair swaying as she nodded and absorbed the information. It was all the same things he’d told Mason Hamilton whenever the young man had found time to call and check up on him. There was something reassuring about dealing with Mason regarding this case; Zoe unsettled Agent Boon and he popped another Tums into his mouth while he waited for her response. It was her eyes. They haunted and judged him. He’d seen the emptiness in them after she’d watched her father’s plane explode in the air and the flaming wreckage fall. They’d been so close; he knew it and she knew it. He’d had him; the FBI had Peters but the man had managed to slip through just as they were closing in on him. It didn’t matter that their investigation suggested that the plane had been tampered with before Peters tricked a look-alike into his car, rigged to crash and burn. Agent Boon blamed himself and he couldn’t fault Zoe for blaming him either.
“What about Aiden Butler’s car accident?” she finally asked, surprising Agent Boon.
“What about it?”
“I was under the impression you were looking into that incident as well,” she said with a note of self-importance in her tone.
Agent Boon leaned against his desk as he watched the DVD player logo bounce around on the sleeping monitor. “I might have said something to Mr. Hamilton – or maybe it was Mr. Butler – about the accident a few months back but I haven’t heard anything since the local forensic team determined it wasn’t Allan Peters’ print they found. Beyond that—”
“Would you mind contacting the police and asking them to run the print again.” Zoe made the request sound like an order. “From what I’ve heard about it, they seem to have… move on to other matters and Mr. Butler’s case appears to be falling through the cracks.”
“It’s my understanding that Mr. Butler is all right,” Agent Boon said defensively. “I’m sure the police are only putting their resources where they’re most needed.”
“Mr. Butler has recovered physically but it was not a rapid – or cheap – process. He was in the hospital for several weeks; our company has been more than happy to help cover the cost of his care, but we remain concerned by the situation. If an attempt was made on the life of one of our employees and it failed, we want to be sure that he remains safe. It seems to me the best way to assure that is to get to the bottom of who is behind the attack.” Zoe’s volume was rising and there was a fiercely protective edge creeping into her tone. “We have been cooperative with the police – and the FBI – in the past and so far we have little to show for it. I hate to criticize your agency or the local authorities in any way, but I’m sure you understand how frustrating it is. And I’m sure you also understand that sometimes, when people become frustrated, they say things to people they wouldn’t ordinarily speak to. People like… reporters, for instance.”
Agent Boon swallowed hard and pushed a hand against the area of his stomach where the pain was worst. “I will call over and see where the on-going investigation stands,” he said, reluctantly. “If there’s any assistance I can offer, they will have it, but I’m not making any promises. Mr. Butler’s accident is outside of my jurisdiction and they may not care for my interference.”
“Any attention that can be brought to this case is welcome,” Zoe told him, her tone much more agreeable now. “And who knows; maybe there was a mistake the first time through and there is a connection between the accident and Uncle – Allan Peters. It could be the break you need.”
Agent Boon was fairly certain they hadn’t missed any connection but thought better than to say so aloud. “You said you’ve been away for quite a while?”
“A few months, yes,” Zoe admitted warily.
“Do you know whether anyone who might be connected to Peters tried to contact you while yo
u were away? Any mysterious phone messages or letters? Anything waiting for you when you returned home?” Agent Boon was desperate and Zoe’s return was the biggest thing that had happened to anything or anyone connected to the case in the last few weeks.
“No,” she told him flatly. “I thought I saw him a few times but that was just my over-active imagination. Part of why I left, actually. I needed to clear my head. And it isn’t like my house was locked up with mail piling up on the floor beneath the mail slot. Mason – Mr. Hamilton – was keeping an eye on the house and my things. He forwarded relevant mail and messages. Plus, my housekeeper and her husband were around – when Mason was at work.”
“I see.” Agent Boon massaged his side with one hand, deflated. “Well, I’ll let you know what I find out – if anything – about Mr. Butler’s accident.”
“Thank you, Agent. If I think of anything or find anything myself, I’ll let you know as well,” Zoe said hastily. “Goodbye.” She hung up before waiting for him to respond in kind.
He put the phone down on the desk and popped the next DVD of security footage into the player, queuing it up to the date and time in question. As each person walked across the screen, stood in line, and interacted with the ticket attendant using the same hand gestures and body movements, right on cue, Agent Boon began to feel his eyes glazing over. He’d simply seen it too many times to see anything but what he expected. He turned the footage off.
He was tired of going around in circles. He had done little else for twenty years. How many times had retracing his steps actually helped when the leads dried up? On the Peters case… maybe once, but too late. Almost every break they’d had come from an outside source. They’d only found him in Cupertino because of Dunmore Corp’s little internal investigation and Mason Hamilton’s background check into the name they’d found on their accounts.
Maybe a different kind of break was what he needed. Maybe looking at things again would help but only if he spent some time away from the case. He picked up his phone and began to look up his contacts from Butler’s accident. Maybe some time away from his desk, thinking about another case, would help.
****
“You haven’t asked me about Lucas yet?”
“I wasn’t sure you would have gone to check on him so soon.”
“I went the other day to his apartment on my lunch break. He… he wasn’t home.”
“Well, I’m patient. I’m sure he’ll be there next time. Did you call to tell him you’d be coming?”
“No… I didn’t want to… I thought it would be better to see him first face-to-face.”
“Zoe, is something wrong? You sound… Do you think something’s happened to Lucas? Is that what it is? You said he wasn’t home. Were there… Did it look like he should have been?”
“What? No. It’s nothing like that. I mean… I don’t think anything bad has happened to him. I don’t think Unc–… I don’t think anyone hurt him. I just…”
“What is it then? You can tell me.”
“I think… I think Lucas’s looking for you.”
“What? How – You said he wasn’t home.”
“The door was open. Well, not open. It was unlocked. I don’t think that counts as breaking and entering.”
“David was the one who knew the differences those technicalities make. Lucas never was one for remembering things like that, even if David was meticulous. But… why do you think he’s looking for me?”
“There were… papers and maps. It was… unsettling. The place was a mess, except for his bedroom. Pictures of you, notes about people he’d talked to… in Los Angeles, Phoenix, Sacramento…”
“Oh. You… you may be right. I… There have been… quite a few places between those and now…”
“But it sounds like he’s picked up whatever trail you may have left behind—”
“And he’s following it. Damn!”
“So… you don’t want him to find you?”
“I… I don’t know. I’m… I’ve been hiding for so long. I… don’t want to lose what I’ve managed to build for myself. If Lucas… David… No. I don’t want Lucas to find me. Even if he doesn’t know where David is or what he’s up to now that he’s on the run, I have no doubt that David is in a position to know every move that Lucas makes. And if Lucas finds me… I know it sounds awful. And I probably am awful—”
“I don’t think you’re awful.”
“Thank you, Zoe. But you’re being too kind. I did know about David’ past and even if I didn’t think he was… I still should have said something to someone sooner. And what about now? They’re looking for him and even though I don’t think there’s anything I could do or say to help them find him… I haven’t come forward. I’m… a coward; I’m selfish. I’m horrible. But I just… can’t.”
“If Lucas is onto where you are now, you can go somewhere else. You can move again.”
“Or I could reach out to him on my own terms. Stop him before he gets too close and David could find me. I could go to the cops and turn myself in. Help them catch David once and for all. You can say it. It’s true. I could do that.”
“I know you’re scared. I only know some of what Uncle David did and it’s enough to scare me. I can’t imagine… You don’t have to—”
“I should though. And maybe I will. I just… need more time. I’m not ready yet. Thank you… for warning me. About Lucas.”
“Seeing his place… it scared me. I know you said before that you were scared of David…”
“I worry about that too. He didn’t know what David was up to, but it doesn’t mean David didn’t… get to him… on some level. Be careful, Zoe. Don’t go back to that apartment. I… I’ll figure something out.”
“You don’t have to worry. About trusting me, that is. I won’t tell the FBI I know where you are.”
“You don’t know where I am. They could trace the cell phone perhaps… But I understand what you mean. And for what it’s worth, I do trust you. I trusted your father more than anyone and you are your father’s daughter.”
“If there’s anything you can think of… that would help the FBI… I’ll pass it along but I won’t tell them where it came from. I can even look into it myself – without telling them anything about it – if you prefer. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how much I trust them not to screw up any leads you might have anyway.”
“I’ll… I’ll let you know if I think of anything. Stay safe, Zoe. We’ll talk again soon.”
Chapter 35
“You wanted to see me, Miss Dunmore,” Aiden whispered to himself in the elevator, practicing keeping his voice level.
It was the first time he’d been summoned to her office since she’d returned and he was sweating like a pig from nerves. He was so anxious about anything having to do with Zoe that he’d convinced himself Amelia smirked as she walked away after delivering Zoe’s summons. Had Zoe said anything to her new assistant about him? About what had happened between them? It was impossible that Mason didn’t know; aside from the fact that he was Zoe’s best friend, there had been too many pitying looks in the time Zoe was gone.
The elevator doors opened and Aiden forced himself through them and down the hall. Zoe’s office door was open and she was hunched over at her desk, making note of something in her datebook. She used the calendar on her smart phone religiously, but continued to write things out by hand to be sure they stuck. Steve had done the same thing though he’d had a habit of misplacing and forgetting his phone.
He tried to focus on the swiftness with which her hand moved across the page instead of the way her posture drew attention to her chest. The blouse she wore was just sheer enough he could see the lines of her bra where its straps dug into her shoulders and spread possessively over her flesh. He remembered the subtle red Masons left behind when he’d watched her remove that garment and toss it onto the desk where she now wrote. He’d kissed his way along them, doing his best to soothe the delicate skin with his
tongue.
He cleared his throat reflexively and watched Zoe’s hair catch the light streaming in from the window as she jerked her head up to face him. The effect was mesmerizing but he managed to find his voice. “Amelia said you wanted to see me?” It came out a little rougher than he would have liked and he could feel heat working its way up his neck and towards his cheeks.
“Please, come in,” she said with a smile. “Have a seat.” She rose as he took the chair in front of her desk, consciously avoiding so much as glancing at the sofa. She closed the door before returning to her seat across from him. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve been in contact with Agent Boon from the FBI.”
“I remember him,” Aiden said quickly.
“Well, he’s having the police rerun the fingerprint from your car accident hoping it will find a hit if they use a larger network. They’re also going to be making the extended forensic investigation a priority,” she said in a matter-of-fact way.
“Oh… uh. That’s good, I guess.” It certainly wasn’t what he had expected from this little meeting but then, he hadn’t been able to think of a reason why she would summon him to her office other than Mrs. Henry having left work early to take her husband to a doctor’s appointment.
“I’m hoping – now that I’m back – that progress will be made towards capturing Allan Peters. Agent Boon’s initial suspicion was that your accident was related to Peters and I’m not sure he should have given up on that hunch so quickly.”
“You think he tried to kill me? But why? Why would he take the time to do something like that when he was on the run?” Aiden leaned forward, relaxing as the conversation turned to the matter that had first brought them together. “It couldn’t have been done more than a day before my accident. There was nothing wrong with the car when I drove it to work that Friday morning. So whoever cut my brake line did it sometime between when I got to work at eight thirty Friday morning and about seven thirty or eight… Saturday morning.”
Promised Box Set Page 35
