“But you’ll keep in mind,” she said, “there could be another explanation. After all, we were wrong about Harlan last night. It wasn’t him in the hall.”
“We don’t know that for sure. We only know he claims it wasn’t.”
“Yes, that’s true. But I just have this feeling…”
“Look, Talia, an hour ago somebody was shooting at you. And Harlan said he keeps a gun at his motel. So it’s hardly a major leap to conclude he can use one.”
“But so can a zillion other people.”
“True. But a zillion other people didn’t tell me they weren’t leaving their room till morning, then went out.”
“Maybe he didn’t go out. Maybe when Liz called looking for us, he was in the shower or something.”
“He had a shower before dinner. He’s not that much of a clean freak.”
“Okay…but maybe something unexpected came up. So just promise you won’t do anything rash.”
They’d reached his room, so he merely nodded. Then he unlocked the door and shoved it open, telling himself that if Harlan was there he’d count to a hundred before saying a word. But his resolve vanished the second he saw his roommate.
When he’d left earlier Harlan had been wearing his kung fu pajamas. Now he was sitting on his bed wearing jeans, a sweatshirt and such a guilty expression even a saint would have lost his temper.
“Okay, Harlan,” he snapped, slamming the door shut. “Turn off the damn TV and let’s hear what the story is.”
Harlan’s glance flickered nervously to Talia, then back to Cade. “What’s got you going this time?”
“We know you were out there shooting at Talia, so what’s the deal?”
“Out there shooting at Talia?” Harlan fumbled for the remote and clicked off a weatherman midsentence.
“Harlan, you’re about three seconds away from getting pitched off the balcony, so let’s hear the truth.”
“Cade, I don’t know what you’re talking about! I swear I don’t. I haven’t been anywhere. I—”
“Oh? You’ve been sitting right here all night, have you? You only changed out of your pajamas in case somebody came to visit?”
Harlan brushed his hand down his sweatshirt, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Without even being aware of moving, Cade started forward, then was abruptly jerked to a stop. Talia had a death grip on his arm.
“Harlan,” she said, “you did go out, didn’t you.”
” Well…” He rubbed his palms on his jeans. “Yeah, okay, I went out. But I only went for a walk. I had something to think about. Needed to clear my head.”
“Then why lie?” Cade said. “Why tell us you were in here all night when you weren’t?”
“Because I didn’t want you asking what I had to think about! Because I haven’t figured out what I should do about it yet. But I sure as hell wasn’t shooting at Talia.”
“Okay, okay,” she said quietly. “But if you were out, did you at least hear the shots?”
“No.” He shook his head and wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead.
“Which way did you walk?” she pressed.
“Just along the shore. Down to that old lighthouse at the end of the island.”
The opposite direction from the way Talia and Gerr had been walking, Cade realized. But Harlan’s saying he’d gone down to the lighthouse didn’t mean it was true. Hell, he’d started off saying he hadn’t been out at all, so how could they believe anything he told them?
“You can ask that old bell captain,” Harlan muttered. “He’ll tell you where I was. I ran into him near the lighthouse. He says he walks down there most nights.”
“Shadroe Teach?” Talia said.
“Yeah, that’s what he said his name was.”
“How long ago did you see him there?” Cade demanded.
“I don’t know exactly. I got back fifteen or twenty minutes ago, and we were talking for quite a while. Well, mostly he was talking.”
“So you were with him about an hour ago?” Talia asked.
Harlan nodded.
“Cade?” she said quietly.
“I know,” he muttered. The island was roughly five miles long. So if Harlan had been at the far end of it at the approximate time of the shooting he obviously wasn’t their man. But had he really been there?
“Talk to Shadroe Teach in the morning,” Harlan said, glaring over at them. “He’ll tell you he saw me.” With that, he shoved himself off the bed and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door for emphasis.
Cade looked at Talia, half expecting her to say she’d told him there could be another explanation.
She didn’t say a word, though. And since he couldn’t think of anything to say, either, he just shrugged. But dammit, if Harlan was telling the truth they were back to square one again.
EVENTUALLY HARLAN MARCHED out of the bathroom and settled himself on his bed once more, still so obviously angry that Talia, sitting on the love seat with Cade, could feel the negative vibes in the air.
She cleared her throat unhappily. Nobody would claim to have an eyewitness if he didn’t, so Harlan’s story had to be true. Which meant an apology was definitely in order.
But Harlan hardly looked in a receptive mood. He’d switched on the television again without so much as a glance at her and Cade.
“Harlan?” she said.
He graced her with a silent glare.
“Harlan, I’m sorry. Cade and I are both really sorry. It was just…oh, you can’t imagine how scary it is to get shot at. And not knowing who it was…”
“So not knowing, you assumed it was me,” he snapped “Just like last night. You two really have it in for me, don’t you? Look, I know you must be scared, but I’m getting sick of you jumping down my throat every time something happens. Instead of keeping it up, why don’t you figure out which of the other jurors might be trying to kill you?”
She simply stared at him while his words sank in. “What,” she finally whispered, “makes you think it’s one of the other jurors?”
“Nothing,” he said so quickly she knew he was lying again.
“Dammit, Harlan,” Cade said, “stop playing games and tell us what you know.”
“I’m not sure I should. I found out something that…It’s why I went out, what I had to think about. But I still couldn’t decide whether—”
“What?” Cade practically shouted. “What the hell did you find out?”
Instead of answering, Harlan studied the tops of his sneakers. He could only do that for so long, though. And whatever he knew, Talia wasn’t leaving this room until she knew it, too. She’d wait for hours if that was how long it took him to talk.
But she could tell Cade wasn’t as willing to let the silence work for them this time around, which meant that trying to coax Harlan along a little was a wise idea. “Harlan,” she said, “whatever you learned obviously has to do with what’s been happening to me. So please tell us what it is.”
He shrugged. “I could get in real trouble.”
“Look,” Cade said, “how about if Talia and I promise not to repeat anything you tell us? Only the three of us will ever know about it.”
Harlan glanced at Talia. “You’ll go along with that? You’ll give me your word?”
“Cross my heart, Harlan.”
“Well…” he began, then paused.
She held her breath, willing him to continue.
“Okay,” he finally muttered. “But nobody except the three of us ever hears any of this, right?”
“Right,” she and Cade agreed.
“Okay, then. Remember when you went down to the bar after dinner?” he asked Cade. “Remember I said I was going to connect with my buddy in Arizona?”
“Uh-huh.” Cade glanced at Talia. “He means on his computer.” She nodded.
“Well, when I got hold of him,” Harlan continued, “the first thing he said was, “Hey, is any of that stuff about your deliberations right?”
“Meaning?” Cade asked.
“Meaning,” Harlan said, “stuff about our day’s deliberations showed up on the systems.”
“What do you mean, stuff?” Cade asked.
“You mean on the Internet?” Talia said at the same time.
“Systems,” Harlan said, apparently deciding to field her question first, “refers to any of the systems with gateways to the Internet—Prodigy, America Online, CompuServe, et cetera, et cetera. You pick any one of them and we’re on it.’’
”What’s on it?” Cade demanded.
“I told you. Stuff about the day’s deliberations.”
“You mean rumors? Speculation?”
“No. I mean cold hard facts. Right down to wordfor-word quotes of what people said in that conference room. Right down to there being no doubt that Talia voted guilty on the initial ballot.”
“How can that be possible?” she asked.
“Well, you made it pretty obvious from things you said today.”
“I think what she meant,” Cade said, “is how did the information get out?”
Harlan shrugged. “That’s exactly what I wanted to know. So I started searching for an explanation. Which is what could land me in trouble. Going into all the BBS stuff, I mean.”
“BBS stuff?” Talia repeated.
“Bulletin-board systems stuff,” he explained. “That’s like listening to what people are saying about the trial and reading papers and everything they told us not to do.” He glanced at the door as if he expected a SWAT team to come bursting in at any second.
“Harlan, you wouldn’t get into that much trouble,” Cade told him.
“Says you,” he muttered.
“We promised we wouldn’t tell anyone,” Talia quickly reminded him, in case he was having second thoughts about confiding in them.
“Well,” he finally said, “okay, then. Whenever there’s a halfway interesting murder trial anywhere, there are always discussion groups. You wouldn’t believe how much stuff there was when O.J. Simpson—”
“Harlan?” Cade interrupted. “How do you think quotes from our deliberations got plastered all over the place?”
Harlan shrugged again. “Well, at first I thought we had another computer junkie on the jury, that he’d anonymously posted stuff to a news group, and it had spread.”
Talia almost groaned. All she wanted to know was who was trying to kill her, but it was taking Harlan forever to get to the point.
“I wondered why somebody who was into computer networking hadn’t mentioned it to me,” he went on. “But I figured that had to be what the story was. Because for a computer type, posting news that nobody else knows is a big deal.”
“Yes, I understand,” Talia said as patiently as she could.
“So I was sure one of the other jurors was getting his kicks posting the stuff—even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to.”
“Why were you sure it had to be a juror?” Cade asked. “Couldn’t it have been someone who just made a few lucky guesses? Or hell, maybe the conference room’s bugged. At this stage nothing would surprise me.”
Harlan shook his head. “I thought of a bug, too, but that’s not it. Like I said, some of the stuff was real specific—exactly who said what. And with eleven men’s voices, you could never be sure of all the identities on a tape. It had to be somebody right in the room.”
“But who?” Talia asked, her stomach doing flipflops. “And why?”
“I don’t know who. I’m pretty sure of why, though. See, I started trying to find the original posting, but no matter what boards I checked, the news was secondhand. Then I finally got to the bottom of things and discovered why.”
“Why?” Cade prompted.
Harlan paused, glancing uneasily at Talia. “Well, see, it’s like I said at the start. If somebody’s really trying to kill you it might be one of the jury. Because the original stuff wasn’t posted to any news group, after all. It was sent to Joey Carpaccio.”
Chapter Twelve
While Harlan was explaining how he’d worked his way through the maze of bulletin boards and showing them the information he’d printed out, Cade concentrated so hard his head hurt. But at least he had the story straight by the time Harlan was winding down.
Joey Carpaccio had an informer on the jury. A mole. And all the information on the systems had originally come from an electronic mail message he’d sent to Carpaccio—or more precisely to Carpaccio’s people—telling them about the day’s deliberations.
It had ended up on the bulletin boards after some computer hacker, who called himself Houdini, had intercepted and read the E-mail. Actually he’d decoded it first, because the original had been encoded for security. Then he’d posted it for the whole world to see. As Harlan had explained, computer types got a big kick out of posting news nobody else knew.
Cade wasn’t clear on how somebody could break into an E-mail system, but Harlan claimed that everyone knew you couldn’t rely on their security. And that an ingenious hacker could do just about anything.
At any rate, the how wasn’t important. The important thing was that a leak from a juror, at this stage of the game, could only result in a mistrial. And even though that meant they’d all just wasted six weeks of their lives, at least they’d be getting out of here.
Thinking about that made Cade feel as if he’d been in free-fall and had just spotted a safety net. As soon as the jurors were excused, Joey Carpaccio would have nothing to gain from killing Talia.
He looked at her sitting beside him on the love seat and told himself the past six weeks really hadn’t been a waste at all. In fact, they just might have been the most important weeks of his life, because if it hadn’t been for this trial he’d never have met her.
“So, that’s pretty much it,” Harlan concluded as Cade tuned back in to what he was saying.
“Amazing,” he said. “But in everything you saw, there was no clue about which juror is working for Carpaccio?”
Harlan shook his head.
“And there’s absolutely no way of figuring it out?” Talia asked.
Cade was curious to hear Harlan’s answer. Even though their jury wouldn’t exist much longer, he’d sure like to know who was the snake in the grass. And he’d like the guy to get what he deserved.
“Actually,” Harlan said, “I already tried to figure out who it is. I checked the calls that were made from the hotel today to see if any were to computer-system numbers.”
“You checked the calls?” Cade repeated. “You mean you got the desk to hand over that kind of information?”
“Well…no. But the software they’re using here isn’t real tough to infiltrate, so I kind of broke into their records. Right from our room here.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Cade said.
Harlan shrugged, looking only marginally guilty. “I decided it was okay under the circumstances. But I didn’t find out anything useful. The only calls that would have gotten anyone onto the information highway were mine.”
“Then how did our mole send his E-mail?”
“He must have a cell phone. And a laptop that can interface with one. That way he wouldn’t have had to use the hotel lines.”
“He certainly came prepared, didn’t he,” Cade muttered. “And if there’s no phone record, then there’s just no possible way of finding out who he is?”
“If I knew which system he used, and could get into its log, I’d have a chance. But that’s a whole different ball game than breaking into the hotel records.”
The three of them sat in silence until Cade finally said, “Well, maybe we’ll never know who the mole is, but at least everything’s going to be okay now. Just as soon as—”
“I don’t think you should get overconfident,” Harlan interrupted. “After all, at this point Joey’s certain Talia’s convinced he’s guilty.”
“But what Joey’s certain of isn’t important anymore,” Cade said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s
all over.”
“Over?”
Cade nodded.’ ‘If half of what we talked about today is on those bulletin boards and thousands of people are reading it, then—”
“More like hundreds of thousands.”
“Okay, so hundreds of thousands of people know that someone on this jury leaked information. And those hundreds of thousands are going to include cops and lawyers and court officials and members of the media. First thing in the morning, they’ll all be blowing the whistle. Which will leave Joey Carpaccio looking at a retrial.”
“Oh, no, Cade,” Harlan said. “You’re wrong. Nobody who’s read the stuff on the bulletin boards is going to blow any whistles.”
Harlan had to have known that he and Talia were waiting for him to elaborate, but he simply looked at them, his expression smug.
“All right,” Cade said at last, “tell us why nobody’s going to blow the whistle.”
“Because bulletin boards are big grapevines, always full of rumors and gossip. Everybody knows that, so why would it even occur to anybody that the stuff about us originated from a juror?”
“But…didn’t it say that someplace?” Talia asked.
Harlan shook his head. “I said that, because I knew it had to have come from somebody in that conference room. But Houdini didn’t say it. All he did was post the information. So people are going to figure it’s nothing more than speculation. And nobody’s going to start yelling about a leak from the jury on the basis of speculation.”
Cade rubbed his jaw, considering Harlan’s logic. Ridiculous as it seemed, he could see Harlan might be right.
“Cade?” Talia said. “If that’s the situation, what do we do now?”
“What we do,” he said firmly, “is blow the whistle ourselves. We’ll have to talk to Bud and tell him everything. And we may as well do it right now. I guess he won’t be able to report it till the morning, but—”
“No!” Harlan objected. “You gave me your word you wouldn’t say anything. I’ll get in trouble if you do.”
“Dammit, Harlan, you’re not going to get into any serious trouble. And it was a blind promise. There are limits to blind promises.”
Love And Lies Page 12
