“Well, he’ll have to face me on the plane,” I said.
Mary said, “Belle, what he did was uncalled for and disrespectful. I don’t know what has transpired since I saw you yesterday. Decisions will have to be made.”
“I’m calling Lee,” I said.
Lee picked up on the first ring.
“David stood me up. Mary and I are here; do you want me to order breakfast for you? You could join us down here after you finish your shower.”
“No, just get me a toasted bagel with cream cheese and a large coffee, and bring it up, please.”
“Will do,” I said. After I hung up, I turned my attention back to Mary. “About David. I don’t know what to think. He got into it with me last night. And we’re not going to be able to work together when we return to New York. I just need to get through the next few days; then I can make a decision about what to do.”
“So how did things go last night with Hightower?” Mary asked.
“Long story short, he called and said he fell down some stairs and spent the night at someone’s home. He’ll be meeting us at the plane,” I said.
“Are you buying that?” Mary asked.
“I don’t know yet. Maybe he actually participated in the night’s events,” I suggested.
“I hope so.” She chuckled.
We finished breakfast and brought Lee’s food up to him in my room. By the time we arrived, he was showered, dressed, and had his luggage next to mine.
“I’ve already checked out using the app for the hotel, so when you ladies are ready, we can be on our way.”
We returned the rental car and were taken to the private jet that was waiting for us. I couldn’t help myself; I gasped when I saw Benjamin. He was nearly unrecognizable.
“Benjamin, this is far worse than you let on. Is your nose broken?” I asked.
“My God, man, you look like somebody used you like a piñata. I hope you have some decent drugs running through your bloodstream,” Mary said, shaking her head.
He ignored her and watched and waited as Lee made his way down the aisle. Their eyes met, and Lee kept on moving and took a seat next to me.
After we were served a beverage and some fruit, the pilot made his final announcement, telling us to buckle up and saying they were closing the door.
“Wait,” I yelled, “David’s not here.”
Benjamin looked at me and then over his shoulder toward the cockpit. He moved his hand in a circular motion over his head and said, “Wheels up.”
Ten minutes later, we were heading toward Seattle.
Lee
Hightower popped whatever pills the doctor had given him like Tic Tacs, and they barely seemed to help him. Every few minutes he repositioned his body to try to get comfortable without much success. He winced with each move, and his breathing seemed restricted. The bruising on his face was a deep purple color, and the ice he must have used had barely stopped the swelling.
“May I sit?” I asked, more out of habit than a question.
He didn’t welcome me. But didn’t reject me either.
We sat in silence, and I visually catalogued his wounds. Those injuries weren’t from a fall. I’d seen more than my share of domestic violence beatings and bar fights to know Benjamin’s injuries had been inflicted by fists, fists with rage behind them.
“I can tell you’re really hurting, but we need to talk,” I said. Hightower just looked at me. “Obviously, someone hit you. And not just a smack but someone used you like a punching bag.”
He turned away and looked out the airplane window.
“How bad is the rest of your body?” I asked.
No response.
“We can play twenty questions, and you can refuse to answer, but it will only lead me to jump to the worst conclusion,” I told him.
He still remained silent. I wasn’t letting him off the hook. It had been his decision to attend the party in our place, and we needed information, so he could just suck it up.
“Obviously, you got into the building for the party,” I said, and he nodded. “Did you get the impression that someone made you?” I asked.
“Not initially. But then about an hour in I sensed someone following us,” he said.
“Someone associated with the party, like the people hosting the party, or someone else?” I asked.
“Actually, as crazy as this sounds, both. But at different times,” he said. “I felt like when we arrived, the person taking our information took a little too much interest in us and tipped off someone to keep an eye on us.”
“What made you feel that way?”
“He held us at the door a little longer than the others and then made it a point to call someone over to introduce us to. A man named Paul was our guide in case we had any questions as newcomers. It just seemed off. I thought the whole purpose of the party was to roam free and remain anonymous,” Hightower said.
“Did he ask any pressing questions? Did you feel like they were vetting you further? Or that maybe they suspected something wasn’t right?” I asked.
“Who the hell knows what goes on at these things or what is ‘normal’? For all I know, that place could be a cult of people involved in devil worship. From the minute I left that guide’s side, I felt like I was being tracked by someone. They allowed us to move freely and participate in the activities if we wanted,” he said, wincing as he moved his leg.
“Did you participate?” I asked. “I mean did anything happen that could have made someone angry?”
His eyes shifted as he replayed clips of the party in his mind.
“No. Well, I don’t think so. The guys there didn’t appear to be jealous of the women they brought. I mean, isn’t that why they brought them? And I barely spoke to anyone. I mainly watched,” he said.
“OK, then it probably wasn’t someone that took offense. Did you participate at all?” I pressed.
“No, not really. We watched some performers—”
“Performers? Like jugglers?”
“No, like people having sex,” he said sarcastically. “I got the impression these were people paid to perform various sex acts to entertain the guests and get people interested in exploring more. At one point, Ingrid left to explore the upstairs rooms, and I went out on the deck. I decided to take a walk to get some air. A few minutes later, I started to feel a little woozy.”
Now we were getting somewhere. “Did someone offer you a drink? Maybe slipped you something like a roofie?” I asked.
“Come to think of it, someone did come out on the deck and offered me a drink from a tray. But the tray only had two glasses on it. So if I was drugged that’s probably how they did it,” he said. “The next thing I remember I woke up, tied to a chair and unable to focus.”
“Was anyone there when you woke up?”
“No, just me in a dark room. Alone,” he said.
I sensed he didn’t want to give any more information, but this was critical. Fiona couldn’t have maneuvered him to the room. It had to have been a man. “And?”
“I have no idea how long I sat in there before someone came in the room. You lose all sense of time in the dark. But it was a man. I was able to make out the shadow of a man’s body. And well…”
I waited for him to gather himself. His breathing became more rapid and shallow as he remembered the events. Beads of sweat had collected on his upper lip, and his fingers involuntarily tapped.
“Take your time,” I said. I saw Belle looking our way, and I gave her a subtle sign to remain in her seat.
“He ripped my mask off and seemed surprised.”
“Surprised?”
“Yeah, he froze for a second, and it seemed just seeing me set him off into a frenzy. I heard him yell something, then I felt him pummeling my face. Punch after punch landed on my face and then my body. At some point, I must have passed out. All I remember is when I regained consciousness I was chained to a wall, and I was naked. I mean the man must have had some super strength to do that all by himsel
f. I don’t know if maybe the drugs and shock sent me into an unconscious state that made it easier for him. That’s a stupid remark; of course it did, and I just don’t want to relive it. I don’t want to talk about it,” Hightower said.
God forgive me, but at this point, I thought, thank God it wasn’t me that had gone to the party and that I’d had enough good sense to have drawn the line at the risk.
“What about Ingrid?” I asked.
He looked at me and then averted his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed back what I’m sure was vomit.
“I don’t know. I assume she left the party without me,” Hightower said.
“You don’t think she came looking for you?”
“Why would she? It was a party, and she probably got caught up in the atmosphere.”
What a piece of shit. The man had no idea if she’d been taken too and kept somewhere else. He hadn’t even tried to find her.
“OK, so once you were restrained against the wall, what happened next?” I asked.
“The abuse continued,” Hightower replied, not giving any more specifics. “He left me barely conscious. By the time he finished, he had unchained me. I lay on the floor, barely able to breathe. I finally came to, got dressed, and found my way back upstairs.”
I sensed he was holding something back. Had the people who’d hosted the party drugged and beaten him, or had a guest been involved? One thing was clear, Fiona hadn’t done this.
“When I stumbled into the area where the wait staff was gathered, they took one look at me and called one of the hosts. He took me to the doctor.”
“So why the subterfuge last night with the false story? Why didn’t someone call the police?” I asked.
“I didn’t want any trouble with those people. What could I say without stepping into a mess? In actuality, I’d been trespassing. I wasn’t an invited guest. For all the host knew, I’d gone to whatever room I’d been in and had asked to be beaten. And the police? No way. So all I wanted to do was get out. Now here we are, and I want to forget this ever happened,” he said and turned away from me.
“Did you see Fiona?” I asked, even though I wasn’t sure I would receive an honest answer.
“No. And I think you are right about what you said earlier. Fiona probably has nothing to do with the missing drive. We need to look elsewhere,” he said with such resolution in his voice it bordered on anger.
It took me some time to process the enormity of that statement. “OK. Belle is heading to talk to the police, and I’ll pay Ryan a visit,” I said. I was about to continue, but a call came through from Jackson. “It’s Jax. I’ve got to take this.”
He nodded, and I moved toward the rear of the plane next to Mary.
“Jax, what’s up?” I asked.
“How do things stand right now? Have you talked to Hightower?” he asked.
“I’ll fill you in when we land,” I said, not wanting to have this discussion where Hightower might hear.
“OK, tell Mary her contact called, and he couldn’t get ahold of her, so he asked me to reach out,” he said.
“I’m on it,” I said. “We’re not too far out now, so I’ll call you when we land.”
I tapped my phone on my leg and looked over at Mary who I’m sure wanted a play-by-play of my conversation with Hightower.
“Mary, call your contact,” I said. “He called Jax.”
Surprised, she pulled her phone out. “For the love of God, I didn’t power it on; sorry about that.”
Mary dialed a number, and although the person answered, there was no conversation on her side. The one-sided conversation lasted barely a minute before she disconnected.
“The IP address is from somewhere around Seattle, and it’s bouncing through proxy servers all over the world,” she said, placing her phone back in her bag.
“You think it’s Ryan?” I asked.
“Or, it could be someone associated with Dennis or Benjamin,” she shot back. “Or anyone who works at the lab.”
“Can your person trace the transfer of funds if the drive is actually claimed at auction?” I asked.
“Yes and no. It probably will go offshore. So, I’m talking out of my hat right now, but Tyler, can probably track it to a bank but not to the account. Or maybe he can. Honestly, I don’t know. He’s a cyber wizard.”
“Wonderful,” I said, knowing if we didn’t find the drive before the auction we’d be out of luck. “Let’s visit Ryan without giving him any notice.”
“Agreed. I can use my little-old-lady ruse to get him to open the door.”
I nodded.
In this new cyber frontier, I was out of my depth. “What’s so frustrating is, in the end, how do we stop the data transfer? It’s not like someone doing a corner drug deal,” I said. On the streets you could physically stop a car or person.
“Well that’s the easy part,” she said with a smug smile.
“How so?” Please tell me this woman is not also some cyber security expert.
“Tyler has drilled down to the actual website that’s going to be used. Once it’s activated, he can hack it and stop the transaction from even occurring. I don’t know all the technical stuff, but it sounds like he has already planted a bug or Trojan virus. However, he said he’d rather let the bidding occur, and once the transaction is complete, then jam the transfer,” she said.
“I don’t understand.”
“When the seller comes online and enters the site, Tyler can track him through whatever magic he performs. The information is going to be transmitted over wires, not sold as the actual drive. So once he locks in on the seller, he’ll divert and route the information to us,” Mary said.
I felt like I’d just been whacked over the head. “What the hell are we doing? My God, you’re right. It will all be done digitally. Maybe the drive still exists, but more than likely the information is already uploaded somewhere,” I said.
“Not so fast. Whoever has the information is still in possession of it. That person can sell the information again and again. What’s the buyer going to do when they find out they’ve been duped, sue him for breach of contract? Until the person who has it is arrested, this could go on indefinitely,” she said.
My head started to hurt. “This is messed up. Hightower should have gone to the FBI and had them set up a sting. I don’t hold much hope this will end well for anyone,” I said.
“Au contraire. Tyler’s a brilliant young man who worked for an elite government intelligence force before going into business himself. You heard about those boys who fly around in jets capturing data from thin air. The ones who stopped the terrorist attack from occurring on that Australian plane? He was part of that group. He’s got a plan, and everything will be fine.”
“Shouldn’t we tell Hightower?” I asked.
“Are you sure he isn’t part of the theft?” she asked.
I leaned back and sighed. In truth, I was not. “So what’s your plan? We still reach out to Ryan?”
“Of course. We still don’t know who the players are. But we go in under the guise of finding out if Fiona was with them that night of the crime and let him think we’re on Fiona’s trail.”
I nodded my agreement. I patted her hand and walked toward Belle. I sat as she listened to a voicemail.
“Give me a second,” she said.
I waited for her to finish.
“That was Seattle. Apparently, David tried to take the meeting without me since he got there early, but they said no. They’ve lined up people to meet with us and will have Boston on the speaker as well. I can see where this is going. When I get back, there’s going to be trouble facing me. David’s mad, and he’s going to spread rumors.”
“I’m sorry, Belle. Is there anything I can do?” I asked. I wanted to kiss her or reach for her hand, but it wasn’t the time or place.
“Plan B, Lee, is always just a step away. Now what did Hightower say?” she asked.
I gave her the abbreviated version. I left out what
Mary and I’d discussed as Mary’s contribution was too hard to explain, and I wasn’t sure how many laws both national and international her contact, Tyler, broke.
“So, when we arrive, you and Mary are headed to see Ryan. Where’s Benjamin going?” she asked.
“No idea. But I hope a doctor’s visit is on his agenda,” I said.
She was about to say something more when the captain gave us instructions to buckle up as we approached Sea-Tac. Ten minutes later, we landed.
Mary and I approached the address Hightower had given us for Ryan. The place was a lovely tidy townhouse in a comfortable neighborhood. We pulled into the driveway, and as we did, I noticed the curtains move aside.
As we walked to the door, a middle-aged woman opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m Lee Stone, and this is Mary Collier. We work for Benjamin Hightower. We’re looking for Ryan.”
“I’m his mother; please come in,” she said. “He’s still not back to normal yet. Let me see if he can have visitors. Have a seat in the living room. Can I get you anything?”
We declined and made ourselves comfortable.
A well-dressed young man came down the stairs and gave us a suspicious once-over.
“I’m Ryan, and you are?” he asked, extending his hand in greeting.
“Lee and Mary. We’re here on behalf of Benjamin Hightower,” I said.
He turned to his mother and asked for some privacy, and she left the room.
“I’ve already been thoroughly investigated by the police,” he started, and I put my hand up to stop him. He was getting defensive, and we didn’t want that to go any further.
“We’re not here about the murder. We’re here about a gene-editing tool you, Fiona, and Dennis had been working on which has gone missing. We’re trying to determine if you have any recollection of when you had access to it last,” I said. Once it was out, it sounded accusatory, and I hope I hadn’t blown our chance. “Mr. Hightower feels Fiona may have information about it, and we’ve been hired to track her and the data down.”
“To be honest, that ketamine wiped my mind of a lot of information. So I have no specific recollection of when I had contact with it. However, based on our routine I’d say I was probably working on it the day I slipped into a coma,” he said in an even manner.
The Last Lie She Told Page 20
