Agent Out
Page 7
“And where’d you go after you dropped her off?” Will asked, turning a page of his notes, not looking at Dix.
“I’d made plans to meet some of the guys from the shoe store, over at Wagner Lanes. A bowling alley near the Civic Center. I got there pretty fast because I knew it was Free Fixins Night—they have this free salad bar. So I got there around eight fortyfive and met up with Louey and Pete and we bowled awhile. I think we stayed there until closing time—just after midnight.”
Will and Kim looked at each other. The ME had placed Terri Barker’s time of death at somewhere between ten and ten fifteen.
“You never left the bowling alley?” Will asked, in that same maddening bored tone.
“No. I mean, just to go to the bathroom. But once I’m bowling, I’m bowling.”
“All right,” Will said briskly, flipping the file closed. He leaned back in his chair. “Thanks for coming in, Mr. Dix. We’ll contact you if we have any further questions.”
What—?
It took Kim a moment to react since he was so startled.
“Just a second,” he said, leaning forward. “Jason, you said you dropped her off downtown. Do you remember where?”
Dix looked at the ceiling, concentrating. “I’m not sure. A pretty crowded area. Somewhere near Loren Avenue, I think.”
“Did you actually see her get into her car?” Kim went on.
“No, she walked away. We kissed good night, you know, just friendly, and then she said she had an errand to run or something and she left.”
“All right, the important thing is that we know where you were,” Will said briskly. “Thanks again, sir—we appreciate your taking the time to talk to us.”
“Hang on,” Kim said impatiently. He knew he was doing exactly what he told himself he wouldn’t do—outflanking Will’s lead and taking over the focus of the interrogation as well as contradicting Will’s obvious desire to conclude the interview—but he had no choice. “You say you’re ‘not sure’ where you dropped her off. Do you think you might recognize the spot? It we drove you downtown, would it jog your memory?”
Dix was nodding. “It might. I remember that I took a left on—”
“We may indeed have to put you through that, Mr. Dix,” Will interrupted, looking at his watch. “At a later date. Like I said, we’ll call and schedule any follow-up interrogation if we need to. Once again, sir, thanks for coming in. We sure do appreciate it.”
“Um—that’s fine,” Dix said, standing up. He looked at Kim hesitantly and then turned and walked out of the interrogation room.
“Well,” Will said, frowning down at the file on the table in front of him. “We’ll have to check out his bowling story, but if it’s legit, I’d say that rules him out.”
Kim was not, by nature, an angry person—he liked to think of himself as fairly levelheaded. But right at this moment he could feel the heat flooding into his face as his blood pressure went up. “We don’t know the names of his bowling friends,” he began tightly. “We didn’t even ask—”
“Louey and Pete,” Will said, standing up. “He told us already.”
“But we don’t have their last names,” Kim said, “and furthermore—”
“He said shoe store friends,” Will interrupted casually. “It shouldn’t be too hard to figure it out, Kim. You’ll get used to how this works. Come on—I’m starving.”
And Will moved to leave the room, not even seeming to notice as Kim lagged behind, staring at him in mounting frustration.
the maddening, intoxicating ways that a girl could get under your skin
THE LAST ONE TO SEE HER ALlVE
Will’s uncle Casper had sent him a fairly tacky poster that said SOUTH CAROLINA, with a richly colored photograph of the rolling grasslands near the blue ridge range of Table Rock Mountain. Will had gotten a frame and put the poster up on his dorm room wall. He knew it wasn’t exactly high art, but it had a soothing effect. Late at night, when he was sitting in here thinking, invariably his thoughts turned to home, and when they did, he liked to look up at the poster. It made him feel better.
That afternoon, as the last reddened remnants of the sunset had faded away, Will was sitting in his desk chair, still sweaty from the gym, staring at the poster. He found that he could get lost in it—he looked at it when he was on the phone, when he was taking a break from studying, and even when he’d just gotten dressed and was about to go out and face the world. It was like a window into his home, into his past—and corny or not, he couldn’t stop doing it. Now he was tracing the lines of the mountain range with his eyes, trying not to think about Gaia—it was just getting to be ridiculous, how often he was letting her face into his mind’s eye—when there was a loud rapping on the dorm room’s door.
“Come in,” Will called out.
The door swung open and Kim Lau was there. He was still dressed in the suit and tie he’d worn that afternoon at the sheriff’s station. He looked frustrated.
“Hey, partner,” Will said, concerned. “Ready to go hit the vending mach—”
“What was that?” Kim asked tensely.
Will was genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“This afternoon,” Kim said, stepping forward and staring down at him. “That interrogation. What were you doing in there?”
“Kim,” Will began, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Look, I understand that it’s your first day doing this, but you’ll realize how you develop shortcuts to—”
“This isn’t about shortcuts,” Kim interrupted. His jaw was clenched tightly, and Will began to realize just how annoyed he was. “You totally shut the witness down—you weren’t interested in his story at all.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Will said. “It was a textbook interrogation. Anyway, he’s not the guy, Kim. Maybe you didn’t realize that, but it’s true. He’s got an airtight alibi that’s very easy to confirm. And he wouldn’t have gone into detail about—”
Kim was shaking his head impatiently. “Of course he’s not the guy. That was obvious from the moment he sat down. But where did he take her? What happened when he brought her downtown to a crowded street somewhere in Quantico? When did they get there, and who saw them? And in what direction did she walk?”
Will frowned. “Okay, good questions,” he admitted. “Maybe we can get him back for—”
“‘Good questions’?” Kim repeated. “He was the last one to see her alive, Will. The last person to see her before she walked away into a crowd and showed up dead the next morning. So I want every single bit of information in his head. How can you possibly disagree?”
Will looked at Kim, standing over him in his impeccable suit with his patented penetrating stare.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Will said, sighing and rubbing his eyes. He gestured toward his other chair, inviting Kim to sit—always the Southern gentleman. “You’re right. I’m distracted. I’ve got stuff on my mind.”
“You’re thinking about Gaia,” Kim said. He pulled back and collapsed into the chair. “Gaia and Cathy. I know—I miss them, too.”
But it’s probably not the same, Will thought sadly. Sure, Kim was gay, but he understood in abstract terms what kind of bond had formed between Will and Gaia. Maybe Kim had never—and would never—daydream about a girl and about all the maddening, intoxicating ways that a girl could get under your skin. Maybe Kim couldn’t be that kind of buddy, the kind you talked to about girls.
But Kim understood. That much was clear. There wasn’t much about people’s feelings and emotions that Kim didn’t understand.
“I’m sorry, partner,” Will said quietly. “You’re right—I wasn’t on my game. Good thing I’ve got you aboard now, huh? Next time you can be primary in the interrogation.”
Kim shook his head. “Never mind that. What’s the next step in the investigation?”
Will found his eyes drifting back to the mountains in the South Carolina poster. “Do you have any bright ideas?”
“Yeah,” Kim said intently. “We�
��ve got to go look at that dating Web site. SecondChanceVA.com. I think that’s the next move.”
Will gestured at his own desktop computer monitor, which was open to his e-mail program. “Be my guest,” he said politely. “Maybe the Web site’s got—”
“I did that already,” Kim interrupted. “My point is we need their records. The company’s offices are right here in Quantico. We might need a court order, but maybe Terri Barker went on other blind dates, too.”
“Okay, genius,” Will said, smiling broadly at Kim. “Makes sense to me. That’s our next stop.”
“Fine,” Kim said. He was squinting at Will, as if he’d seen something in Will’s face that he didn’t recognize or understand. “Tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow.”
After Kim left, Will leaned on the desk, frustrated. He was dimly aware that he still hadn’t showered—his hair felt sticky and dirty, and the sweat from his workout was still drying on his face. His watch said it was closing on six-thirty. Time to unwind with some music and then hit the dining hall … and then early to bed. Because tomorrow would be—
Will caught a flurry of movement out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t sure what he’d seen until he turned his head and looked at the bright surface of his computer monitor. The “you’ve got mail” indicator on the screen was flickering, its miniature numbers changing as ten or twenty e-mails arrived in rapid succession. He glanced idly at the messages’ subject lines.
222Will Your Guy Allow You to Smoke??
Sent 180:29:01
222Will Your Guy Allow You to Smoke??
Sent 18:29:01
222Will Your Guy Allow You to Smoke??
Sent 18:29:01
222Will Your Guy Allow You to Smoke??
Sent 18:29:02
222Will Your Guy Allow You to Smoke??
Sent 18:29:02
2526Will Your Guy Allow You to Drink??
Sent 18:29:02
2526Will Your Guy Allow You to Drink??
Sent 18:29:02
2526Will Your Guy Allow You to Drink??
Sent 18:29:02
2526Will Your Guy Allow You to Drink??
Sent 18:29:03
2526Will Your Guy Allow You to Drink??
Sent 18:29:03
2526Will Your Guy Allow You to Drink??
Sent 18:29:03
2526Will Your Guy Allow You to Drink??
Sent 18:29:03
2526Will Your Guy Allow You to Drink??
Sent 18:29:03
1212Will Your Guy Allow You to CHAT??
Sent 18:29:04
1212Will Your Guy Allow You to CHAT??
Sent 18:29:04
1212Will Your Guy Allow You to CHAT??
Sent 18:29:04
1212Will Your Guy Allow You to CHAT??
Sent 18:29:04
1212Will Your Guy Allow You to CHAT??
Sent 18:29:04
1212Will Your Guy Allow You to CHAT??
Sent 18:29:05
1212Will Your Guy Allow You to CHAT??
Sent 18:29:05
1212Will Your Guy Allow You to CHAT??
Sent 18:29:05
Will frowned in annoyance. Junk e-mail (or spam) was a growing problem for everyone—not just in the FBI, but anywhere people used computers to communicate. Will’s computer was connected to the Quantico base’s master network, and the security filter was supposed to prevent e-mail like this from coming in. Yawning, he reached for the mouse and moved to delete the new messages—
—and then he stopped.
“Will Your Guy A”—twenty-one times in a row.
Will looked up and down the row of e-mails, absently realizing that his pulse was quickening.
No—it couldn’t be.
Except Gaia Moore knew as much about the Quantico base security system as he did. She knew how intently she was being looked for. And she knew that all base and dorm e-mail could be eavesdropped on for security purposes.
Without giving in to the sudden wave of excitement he was feeling, Will selected one of the e-mails and opened it up. It was a lurid-looking commercial solicitation:
LIVE SINGLES CHAT LIVE SINGLES CHAT LIVE SINGLES CHAT Hey, singles! Want to connect? Visit our JAVA-BASED Web site for SECURE, PRIVATE CHATS with singles of your choice! Talk to the whole room or go one-on-one! Just $0.99/minute! IT’S FUN ! IT’S SPICY! CLICK HERE TO START! http://www.livesinqleschat.com
Minors, please ask your parents before connecting. Some restrictions apply.
Will clicked on the link, reaching to fish out his wallet with his other hand. A Web browser came up, connecting to a Web site with the same lurid purple-and-pink color scheme as the e-mail. LIVE SINGLES CHAT, a headline insisted. A smaller window in the center of the page showed scrolling text of a conversation already in progress.
FOXYGIRL5: of boys
BADBOY: hi everyone
F0XYGIRL5: What about you?
PETER56667: anyone here from Vancouver
GIBSONTOWNGIRL: hi badboy! And welcome
PAULGLASER: foxygirl what do you look like?
BADBOY: thanx gib
PETER56667: I’m from Vancouver
F0XYGIRL5: that’s for me to know ::grin::
Will had already started filling out the form on the bottom of the page, typing in his credit card number. When he refreshed the screen after the approval e-mail arrived, he saw that he could now enter the conversation.
SOUTHERNWILL: hi everyone
GIBSONTOWNGIRL: badboy where are you from?
BADBOY: I’m in Mason City IL. How about you towngirl?
SOUTHERNWILL: Any California girls here? Or from the Northeast?
GIBSONTOWNGIRL: Florida originally
SOUTHERNWILL: City girls? I like blondes
NEWYORKERCHICK: Hi SouthernWill! Glad you could make it!
Will moved closer to the screen, nearly forgetting to breathe. Somewhere nearby, in another dorm room, someone was listening to Coldplay. Will could barely hear it. In his mind the only sound was the feverish tapping of his fingers on the keyboard.
SOUTHERNWILL: Thanx NewYorkerChick! Are you blond? I like blondes.
PETER56667: Nobody from Vancouver?
NEWYORKERCHICK: Sure am. ((blush)) My friend Cathy’s got dark hair. I’ll bet you’re cute and blond too!!!
BADBOY: Anyone seen War of the Worlds
SOUTHERNWILL: Maybe I am, NewYorkerChick. You into lollipops?
FOXYGIRL5: I did badboy it rulz
NEWYORKERCHICK: I bet that’s more your thing now
I don’t believe it, Will thought. He was grinning from ear to ear. I just don’t believe it.
NEWYORKERCHICK: Hey SouthernWill, want to go private?
SOUTHERNWILL: Sure would ma’am—but how?
NEWYORKERCHICK: You remember Cathy’s favorite city?
Will blinked. Favorite city? What the hell does that mean?
But something about it sounded familiar. Staring at the blinking cursor on the screen, he suddenly began to remember something—a trick that Catherine Sanders had shown them weeks ago.
“Hackers chat all the time,” Catherine had explained, taking huge bites of microwaved pizza and talking with her mouth full as she pointed at her computer screen. It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and Will and Kim were sitting around Catherine and Gaia’s dorm room, pretending to study for their upcoming Surveillance and Criminology exam. “If you’re in the business of breaking into secure systems, you’ve got to be able to communicate with your brothers and sisters about what’s going on—trade passwords, help each other find back doors, and all that good stuff.”
“Isn’t that how those guys always get caught?” Kim had asked, reaching for the last slice of pizza—Gaia playfully slapped his hand, taking it for her own.
“Not anymore,” Catherine told them, typing too fast for any of them to follow what she was doing. “Cybercrime’s gone way up, thanks to the hidden communities we’ve—I mean, they’ve—all built.” Thunder had clapped outsi
de the dorm very theatrically right then, and Catherine had taken advantage of the timing, raising her hands dramatically over the keyboard. “Watch and learn, my minions,” she said fiendishly. “I’m going to show you how to get to Hacker City.”
And then she did, Will recalled. But the question is, can I remember the way?
On the screen the singles chat kept rolling.
NEWYORKERCHICK: Still there cutie?
SOUTHERNWILL: Yes ma’am—Im a little rusty that’s all
NEWYORKERCHICK: Text mode, ping KL’s birthday + 6
Right—right—
Will nodded to himself. With Gaia’s reminder, it began coming back to him.
As fast as he could without making mistakes, Will opened another window and went into text mode, so that his screen suddenly looked like an old-fashioned 1970s computer with blocky, plain white text on a plain black background. Tapping his fingers on his desk in frustration, he tried to remember Kim Lau’s birthday and finally got it—March 5.
Zero three zero five, plus six, is zero three one one. That’s a four-digit ping—
Will’s fingers clicked on his keyboard as he typed PING 0311 and hit return.
Nothing happened.
April, he remembered suddenly. Not March.
Typing PING 0411 made his entire screen go black. Will watched avidly, wiping sweat from his forehead, as the screen filled with plain white text.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- WELCOME TO HACKER CITY -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
busting boundaries and corralling code since 1990
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
double-16-bit-encryption activated
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
please select a function
NEWS SERIALS CRACKS HACKS DIRECTORY STORAGE CHAT MAILBOX
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Will got up from his chair, his head spinning, and checked that the dorm room door was locked. Then he sat back down and started typing again.
HACKER CITY CHAT STREAM #4 5—6 1
transcript 8.23.2005 18:45:22 EDT