He knew about her past, of course. What Patrick hadn’t told him he’d learned through his own research. Nothing that wasn’t public—he wouldn’t do that to Lucy. And how she persevered after going through Hell showed the world she would never act the victim or martyr.
Looks, brains, and commitment. Lucy was dedicated to the future she was making for herself—of seeking justice for those who couldn’t do it for themselves. He admired her drive.
Focus was one thing that Sean lacked. At least, that’s what Duke always told him. That he’d tried everything in college because he didn’t know what he wanted to do. Which was partly true. He understood Lucy’s need to learn new and different things, her moving from the sheriff’s department to Congress to the morgue.
He only wondered if she would grow bored with the FBI, hampered by its slow process, the excruciating paperwork, and all those rules. Sean wouldn’t survive under such conditions. Lucy—maybe. And while he understood her motivation and he admired her dedication, he would have loved to have recruited her for RCK. She would be such an asset to the company.
But more than anything, Sean wanted to make her smile. He wanted to show her that there was more to life than 24/7 work. That those who worked hard should play hard, that she deserved to have fun.
But she wouldn’t have fun until the situation with Morton was settled.
Sean continued reading the files Jayne had sent, and began to plan.
NINE
Only minutes after Lucy Kincaid left the FBI office and Noah went back to his desk, Abigail exclaimed, “Eureka!”
“Gold?” Noah asked.
“If you’re looking for a sleazy, flea-infested motel, then yeah, gold. The Triple Tree, outside Dulles. The manager said a guy matching Morton’s description paid cash for three nights on Thursday. He signed in as Cliff Skinner—Morton’s cousin—and never checked out.” Abigail grabbed her keys. “I’m going to check it out, get a confirmation on the ID, see if he left any belongings in the room, last sighting, the works.”
Noah glanced at his messages. “The SSA in Denver called while we were in with Kincaid. I’ll see what she’s found. Call when you’re done and we’ll compare notes.”
“You should have the full list—names and current contact info—on Morton’s associates before the end of the day. I dropped Rick Stockton’s name when staff balked at the amount of work needed to make the file current. Worked wonders.”
“Good—I want to clear this as soon as possible.”
Abigail leaned against the side of his cubicle. “You know, I might not be all that sad if we didn’t close it.”
Noah stared at his new partner. He didn’t like the direction of this conversation. “Morton was a scumbag, but we need to know who killed him. Punishment is up to the U.S. Attorney and the court system, not us.”
“We’ve done what Stockton wanted—cleared an active FBI agent, Kate Donovan. We know she didn’t do it, and nothing in her finances suggests she paid a hit man.”
“Not all hits are for money.”
“You’re going dark side here. Donovan doesn’t work in the field; she can’t let someone off in exchange for a hit, or screw with an undercover op.”
“All I’m saying is that there are a lot of unanswered questions. Morton was up to something—there’s no other reason he would come to D.C. in violation of his probation unless there was something big going down. We need to know what that is. There’s more here than a simple murder.”
“You got me there. Maybe he left a diabolical master plan for world domination in his motel room.” She winked.
“Let me know if you find it.”
After Abigail left, Noah picked up the phone and called SSA Monica Guardino.
Guardino answered the phone brusquely, and it was obvious by the background noise that she was in the field.
“Armstrong in D.C. returning your call.”
“Your dead guy was a prick, just want you to know.”
“I know. What did you find?”
“Morton was re-creating his old enterprise,” Guardino said. “His cousin Mr. Skinner, being cooperative after I pointed out he could be considered an accessory, said Morton maintained a studio apartment his probation officer didn’t know about. We popped the lock, found a high-end computer and dozens of boxes of pornography—DVDs and photographs mostly—including some photos that I’d wager my pension are of underage girls. But the kicker is, our e-crimes expert says Morton was downloading the DVDs and preparing them for Internet file sharing. Something about minimizing file sizes for bandwidth issues. The whole how-tos and why-fors are a bit over my head, but I trust my guy. I can hook you up with him—”
While Noah was technically competent, high-end cybercrimes were beyond his scope. “If you could box up everything and send it to me, I’ll have our cybercrimes team go through the files with a fine-toothed comb.”
“Already started boxing the files.”
“Excellent. Any chance you can get it on a military transport today?”
“Where’s the urgency? Isn’t this a low-life scumbag murder? Hardly a top priority.”
“It’s top priority for Assistant Director Rick Stockton,” Noah said.
“Well, shit, Armstrong, you didn’t say the director’s office was involved.”
“I appreciate your help,” he said. “I owe you.”
“I may take you up on that. But I have more,” Guardino continued. “Morton was broke. We went through his finances—he had less than three hundred dollars in his bank account. His cousin paid him for working in his autobody shop, but not much more than minimum wage, and all his money is accounted for. Nothing in or out that is suspicious.”
“Any sign he had money stashed elsewhere?” Noah asked. “He’s well-versed in money laundering.”
“No luxury items, no trips, no cars. The only thing he spent money on was this computer system, and it’s in line with what he earned. He even had the receipts in his file cabinet.”
“So was he going to run his operation from there?” Noah wondered out loud.
“Can’t say, but he definitely had something going on. You want us to boot up the computer? See what we can find?”
Noah considered letting Denver work that end, then decided against it. He didn’t know what was on the computer, and while he trusted the field offices completely, after talking to Lucy Kincaid this morning he wanted to keep any files that may have her information as private as possible. The fewer people who saw them, the better, if Morton had anything on her he’d planned to exploit.
“No, but thanks.”
“Good—it looks like it’ll take a shitload of time.”
Time. How was Noah going to convince the cybercrime squad that this case was a priority?
“Thanks, Monica, I appreciate the help. Let me know when the transport is scheduled so I can send an agent to collect the evidence.”
“Bring a truck,” she said with a half-laugh. “We’ll dig around a little more, but I think this is the bulk of what he was up to. If you need me, call.”
After Noah hung up on Denver, he called Rick Stockton. He was surprised when the assistant director himself answered.
“This is Special Agent Armstrong,” Noah said. “Do you have time for an update?”
“A few minutes,” Stockton said.
“The Denver regional office found a computer and files of pornography; much of it they suspect is illegal or child porn. On the surface it looks like Morton was trying to re-create the enterprise he ran with Adam Scott six years ago. I asked Denver to box everything up and send it to me on a military shuttle.”
“Good. We need to confirm exactly what he was up to and who he was working with. The last thing I want is another Trask Enterprises. We’re overloaded as it is.”
“I’m concerned that this case is going to take a lot of manpower, and my cybercrimes unit is swamped right now.” During the last staff meeting, Noah had listened to the SSA of cybercrimes relate their multitude of
cases, many of them involving children in jeopardy. Unless there was something similar in Morton’s data, Noah couldn’t in good conscience pull them, even if he had the clout. “I don’t feel comfortable pulling weight when they’re dealing with extremely time-sensitive crimes.”
“Agreed,” Stockton said. “What about Kate Donovan? Is she in the clear?”
“She was out of town, and no way she or her husband could have killed Morton. Her alibi checks out and there are no signs suggesting she or any of the Kincaid family took out a hit on Morton. Lucy Kincaid claimed she didn’t even know he was out of prison, and I believe her.”
“How would you feel turning the computer evidence over to Kate?”
Noah leaned back in his chair and frowned.
“Kate Donovan?” he asked unnecessarily. “While so far everything checks out, I can think of ways she could have had a hand in it—”
“What do your instincts tell you?”
“I prefer to deal in facts, sir.”
“So do I, but sometimes absolute definitive proof is unattainable. Her alibi checks, her financials check, and she knows more about Trask Enterprises and Roger Morton than anyone in the Bureau. She can assess the data and route it to the appropriate field agents. She’s not working in the field while teaching at Quantico; she can devote her time to this. I can flex my muscles with the cybercrimes squad, but they won’t be able to devote the same time to it.”
“Understood.” Noah didn’t know how he felt about bringing a former suspect into the investigation.
“I’m not suggesting you let her into every facet of your investigation,” Stockton continued. “That’s your call. But as far as the computer data and tracking goes, she’s the best we’ve got, and she’ll work it till it’s done. Better yet, she’s part of the Quantico cybercrimes unit and has access to the fastest computers we have.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good work. Shoot me and Hans a brief summary via email, and call me if you need anything.”
“Yes, sir.” Noah hung up. He wasn’t wholly comfortable with Rick Stockton’s suggestion—which sounded more like an order—but he didn’t see any other option.
Reluctantly, he called Kate Donovan. When she answered, he said, “It’s Noah Armstrong.”
“Is Lucy okay? When did she leave?”
“Yes, and nearly an hour ago.”
“Are you sure she was okay?”
“I didn’t turn the screws on her; it was a straightforward and civil interview.” Noah had been impressed with the lady. She’d held up well on the surface, even when the questions touched on sensitive areas. But she’d been tightly wound, and he wondered just how well she’d really held up. She was a private, controlled person, and in Noah’s experience, they were the type who exploded big when it was least expected.
“When I said I wanted her to have an attorney, I didn’t mean that she had anything to hide,” Kate explained.
“I know that, Kate. I’m calling about a different matter. The Denver office found a computer and extensive collection of pornographic files, including child porn, in Morton’s apartment. It’ll be here tonight, but my cybercrimes team can’t get to it immediately, and there may be data on his computer that will give us an idea of why he was here and who might have killed him.”
“You’re going to have to push cybercrime. That’s Robeaux, right? I know him well. I’ll call him—he’ll do it for me.”
She spoke with complete confidence in her ability to have her will be done, and Noah smiled in spite of the feeling Kate acted as if this was her case. “He’s good, I agree, but his unit is overwhelmed right now. Rick Stockton authorized you to be the point person on this. I’d like to bring the evidence to Quantico tonight.”
“Me?” She paused. “So you cleared me.”
“Your alibi checks; so does your husband’s.”
“And Lucy?”
“I believe her.” Her alibi—that she was home alone—would be virtually impossible to prove.
“When will the material be here?”
“I’m not sure—late. They’re still boxing it.”
“Let me know when, and I’ll send a team from Quantico to the airfield to retrieve the evidence, log it in, and secure it in our lab. We’ll start first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you.”
“No thanks needed. I want to know exactly what Morton was up to, and I swear if he has a partner I’ll find out who he is and lock him up for the rest of his life.”
The last thing Lucy wanted to do was go to WCF Friday afternoon, but neither did she want to go back home and feel sorry for herself. She made herself stop at a nearby deli and eat. She hadn’t been able to eat anything that morning before going to FBI headquarters. She hoped she’d done the right thing because truly, she had nothing to hide. She hadn’t killed Roger Morton, though she couldn’t have honestly said she wouldn’t have if he’d confronted her.
Her stomach was still in knots from her hour-long interview with Agent Armstrong. Both he and Abigail Resnick had been professional and they didn’t seem as though they thought she had anything to do with the murder, or that she knew anything about Morton’s activities even six years ago. She just wanted to keep the past buried, but it came back and slapped her in the face once again.
She couldn’t finish her sandwich, her stomach still uneasy, so she walked the short block to WCF. Though the sun was peeking out between clouds, it was still cold, and she pulled her coat tight around her.
When she stepped into the WCF building, she was surprised that the place wasn’t packed. Fran was in the conference room by herself, checking the fund-raiser name tags against her master list.
“Where is everyone?” Lucy asked.
“I had lunch brought in and we finished everything we needed to, and since they’re all working on Saturday, I gave them the afternoon off.”
“You’re really done?”
“Just last minute details left. I’m triple-checking the guest list. The last thing I need is a major donor with a misspelling.”
Lucy tried not to show her relief.
Fran looked up from the list and frowned. “You look tired.”
“I didn’t sleep well last night.” Lucy considered telling Fran about Roger Morton. Fran knew about her past, and was one of only a few who Lucy could talk to about what happened. Fran was one of the most steadfast, loyal people Lucy knew—and she didn’t treat Lucy like a victim. If anything, she pushed her harder, knowing that hard work gave Lucy intense pride.
But with the fund-raiser on Fran’s mind, Lucy decided to wait until next week. Morton would still be dead, and maybe a few days was what Lucy needed to redistance herself from her past. Right now, it felt too raw, too real—and she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
She was already embarrassed about crying all over Sean Rogan last night. Except … she wasn’t. He hadn’t talked much, but what he did say had calmed her. Then, he’d stood up to Kate when she tried to bully him into letting her take Lucy home. He’d agreed that Lucy needed an attorney before talking to the FBI, but he’d also said he trusted her to make the right choice for herself. That kind of support—that deep faith in her decisions—was surprising, especially from someone she hadn’t known for long. In the month she’d known Sean, he’d been more fun than serious, but last night she’d seen another side of him.
“I didn’t hear from Cody,” Lucy said instead, taking the name tags that Fran had verified and sorting them into alphabetical order. “Did Prenter go up in front of a judge this morning? Did they send him back to Hagerstown?”
Fran stopped her chore and frowned at Lucy. “I thought Cody would have told you—Prenter didn’t show.”
“He didn’t?”
“He could have suspected a setup. Sex predators have a sixth sense about cops. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be the last. But we have far more successes than most organizations doing what we do.”
“But Prenter believed me.”
“Maybe he pegged Cody. Lorenzo looks like a cop.”
“But Cody’s done this dozens of times! He knows the drill. And if Prenter had pegged either me or Cody, he would have contacted ‘Tanya’ to gloat or taunt or threaten. He wouldn’t just be quiet about it. It’s not in his personality—his mouth got him in big trouble at the trial.”
“Lucy, just because you have a psychology degree doesn’t make you a criminal psychiatrist,” Fran said. Lucy blinked, surprised by Fran’s comment. Fran immediately backtracked. “I didn’t mean that to sound so harsh. You know I think your predator tracking program is the best I’ve seen—it’s going to give law enforcement amazing tools to find these guys when they go to ground. It’s just—I don’t have to explain to you the difference between online communication, where comments can be considered before typed, and face-to-face conversation. These guys are good at hiding their true identity. So maybe you’re right and Prenter would have taunted you if he ID’d Cody as a cop. Or maybe you’re wrong and Prenter wants to disappear and not do anything to get himself tossed back into prison. Maybe his car got a flat tire. For one reason or another, he didn’t show.”
“You’re right. Maybe I should reach out.”
“I don’t think that’s a wise idea. If he does suspect you’re a cop or working with the cops, he could get violent.”
“He doesn’t know who I really am.”
“True, but if he sets up another meet, he may ambush our volunteer cops. If he contacts you, go ahead, keep it going. But don’t initiate contact, okay?”
Lucy reluctantly agreed. She didn’t like being so passive and reactionary.
“I have good news—you remember that case you worked a few months ago? The seven-year-old girl who was exploited by her father on the Internet?”
“In Atlanta? I’ll never forget.”
“He pled out yesterday when confronted with additional evidence the FBI found on his computer and the medical evidence of abuse. Eighteen years.”
“That’s terrific. Did they find her mother?”
Mortal Sin Page 8
