by Laney Kay
Mo was a volleyball player at Georgia and Sara had introduced her to her now-husband Harrison their first year in college. Mo was a nurse and was studying to be a nurse practitioner, and Harrison was a high school football coach and teacher at a local high school. Mo was soft spoken and had a body like a fitness model and Harrison saw his main role in life as making sure than his Mo was never uncomfortable, unhappy, annoyed, or inconvenienced. They were pretty great together.
Daisy was her best friend in the world and the closest thing she had to a sister. She and her husband Luke had been married for a few years now, and the three of them spent a lot of time together. Lola went to their house for dinner a couple of times a week, and Luke, a general contractor, and Lola had flipped several houses together.
Suddenly, Lola’s phone rang. She saw it was Vicki, and excused herself from the table and went outside and sat on a bench under a tree.
Vicki sounded stressed. “Hey, Lola, what’s up?”
“Hey Vicki. Thanks for calling back. You’ve got a guy on your table, Mitchell Willard…”
“Yep. He’s our next case. You know him?”
“Unfortunately. He’s a client of mine and I saw him after the game last night and I wondered if y’all know what happened to him.”
Vicki took a deep breath. “Well, we’re about to start the autopsy, so, at this point, we have only done a quick preliminary exam. Doc Miller assumed at first that it was a heart attack. Little fat fifty-year-old dude, it made sense.”
That made sense to Lola, too. “Okay, so that’s not a big surprise. Thanks, Vicki, I won’t keep you. I…” Then Lola realized what she had said. “Wait. What? At first?”
“Yeah, until he saw a needle puncture on the guy’s chest and started to look around. Lola, sorry about your client, but it looks like this possibly could have been intentional.”
Lola was shocked. “Like he was injected with something?”
“Exactly. We won’t have the toxicology reports back for a few weeks, but it looks suspicious.”
“Can you rush it? I’ll be happy to pay for it myself.” Lola figured it was worth the money to get some answers as soon as possible.
“I can try. Hang on.” Lola could hear Vicki rustling around in the background. “Yep. Here it is. As soon as we’re done, I’ll put a rush on it. I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything and I’ll send the bill to your office.”
Lola thanked her and hung up. Now she was worried. Mitch had said it was a matter of life and death, and now he was dead. Maybe the little weasel wasn’t exaggerating, after all.
She stood up and started pacing, thinking furiously. Who would want to kill Mitch? She snorted. Shit, scratch that, who wouldn’t want to kill Mitch? He probably stole a bunch of money, again, and this time picked the wrong person to piss off.
“Lola?” She heard Daisy’s voice behind her. “You okay?”
Lola smiled a little too brightly at her friend. “Of course, I was just coming back in.”
Daisy narrowed her eyes and stared at Lola. “Okay, what’s going on?”
Damn it. That’s what happened when you had the same friends since you were a kid. You couldn’t fake them out. She sighed. “Nothing going on. I just had an extremely annoying phone call, and I was just remembering why I pretty much hate my freaking job.”
Daisy relaxed and laughed. “That I totally get.” She grabbed Lola’s hand and pulled her toward the door. “Come on in and join us before your lunch gets cold.”
Lola followed Daisy back inside. She had planned to tell everyone what had happened to Mitch, but she figured she’d keep it to herself until she had a better idea of what was going on. Something about this situation really bothered her. He was technically still a client, and even though he was a total sleazeball, he didn’t deserve to die for that. Let’s face it, if being sleazy was enough to get someone killed, the streets of Atlanta would be ass-deep with the bodies of most of Congress and about 95% of TV preachers.
When she sat back down at the table, everyone looked up at her expectantly. Mo asked her if everything was okay, and Lola assured them all that she was fine, but she was tired and sometimes her job sucked ass.
Everyone laughed and the conversation started back up. Apparently, everyone was trying to decide if they all wanted to go somewhere in the spring, and Daisy had just pointed out that she and Luke were thinking of buying a lake house and suggested they could all go there, when Mark asked Lola, “Hey, did you ever figure out what that flash drive was?”
Holy shit. The flash drive. Lola picked up her glass of tea and took a sip to give herself time to think. Was that what got Mitch killed? He did say that he had information. Maybe that was the problem. She pasted a smile on her face, and lied. “Turns out that was from a client last week. I had on my sweatshirt after we won the Rose Bowl game, and I must have just put it in my pocket without thinking. No biggie.” She grabbed a sweet potato fry and pointed it at all of them. “That was client information, guys, so erase that whole thing from your memory.”
Mark smiled at her. “Hell, I didn’t know what it was anyway.” He winked and took a huge bite of a red velvet cupcake then moaned in appreciation with his mouth full. “Holy shit, that’s almost as good as one of your cupcakes, Daisy.”
Lola smiled at him absently, but her mind was racing. She didn’t want her friends involved with this, especially if the flash drive was the reason Mitch ended up dead. First thing she needed to do was to get that thing someplace safe and then she could figure out what to do next.
Everyone was finished and were about to leave, so Lola grabbed some money out of her wallet and threw it down on the table. “Hey guys, I have to get going. I’ll talk to y’all later.”
Daisy narrowed her eyes and looked concerned. Lola knew she’d be getting a call later. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
Lola smiled brightly. “Gotta go. That call was for a work emergency I need to take care of. You know…someone stupid did something stupid.” She waved and headed for the door. “Talk to all y’all later.”
She walked out the door, then once she was out of her friends’ sight, she ran to her truck, jumped in, fired it up, and headed home with her mind racing. Did Mitch steal money and piss someone off, or was there something on that flash drive? What could Mitch have been involved with that was so important that it got him killed?
For once, the lunchtime traffic wasn’t bumper to bumper and Lola made it from Roswell to Inman Park in under forty minutes. She hit the button for the garage gate and flew inside, shutting the gate behind her. The elevator went straight from the garage to her condo, so she pressed her thumb to the keypad and went upstairs, impatiently waiting until the doors finally slid open into her foyer.
Lola ran across the room to her desk, yanking open the drawer and rapidly rifling through it. She panicked when she couldn’t find the flash drive at first, then she saw it under a CD and grabbed it. She stuck it in the USB port, her computer started up, and the same files from last night popped up on the screen. Lola scanned through the pages to make sure everything looked the same, and when it did, she ejected the flash drive and put it in the pocket of her jeans.
She let her breath out in a whoosh. Now what the hell should she do?
She stood up and went to the kitchen and poured a glass of tea, then walked over to her window and stared blankly over the city. Who could she call that could help her without putting them in danger? She was on good terms with a ton of cops around town, but until she knew what, and who, she was dealing with, she was hesitant to get anyone else involved. She thought about calling Daisy’s dad for help since he was the sheriff of Fulton County and could be trusted with anything, or maybe her friend Mike, who was also her security guy and occasional bodyguard, but she would prefer to keep anyone she loved out of this mess until she figured out what was going on.
Finally it hit her. A few years before, Luke had accidently located his ex-wife and ex-business partner after they had run away to Bel
ize with millions of dollars in stolen Katrina relief funds. A New Orleans FBI agent, Steve Prince, had helped capture the fugitives and send them to prison. He had been a huge help and a great guy, and as an FBI agent, might have some idea of where she could start to find some answers. She pulled up her contacts on her phone, found his number, and headed into her bedroom to give him a call.
Lola walked into the back of her closet and opened a concealed panel, put her eye up to the scanner and a hidden door slid open. She walked into the panic room and shut the door behind her, took seat on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table. A satellite phone sat on the end table and she picked it up and dialed Agent Prince’s number.
As she sat there in what her friends called “The Batcave”, Lola grinned. She had balked when Mikey had first insisted she have the room installed, thinking it was a ridiculous waste of money, but now she had to admit that it had been a great idea.
Mike Wilson was not only her right hand man and head of her security, but she had known him since she was in elementary school. Mike had been her brother’s best friend since third grade. He had joined the Navy after college, became a SEAL, and had retired after twenty-two years because of an injury during his last mission that caused him to lose eighty percent of his hearing in his left ear and a small portion of his peripheral vision.
Lola had called him several years ago when he returned home and asked him if he’d come work for her. As a criminal defense attorney, and a former prosecutor, Lola had her share of disgruntled clients, plus she had recently dealt with a huge corporate espionage case that threatened the freedom and livelihoods of very wealthy and desperate men. Add that to the fact that she had buttloads of family money, and it had combined to make her a popular target for various unsavory characters over the years. Mike had set up elaborate security at both her office and her loft, and he acted as her bodyguard when necessary. He also managed and did the accounting for all of her businesses, including her law office, and managed her family’s charitable foundation. It was a great arrangement for both of them.
Mike designed it so the panic room could be accessed through her smart phone. She could use a retinal scan or fingerprint scan, or she could enter a code on the hidden keypad. The room itself had a separate air source, was bullet and blast-proof, was completely sound-proof, surveillance-proof, and bug-proof, and had monitors attached to hidden cameras throughout the house so she could see what was going on outside the locked door. She liked her comfort, so it was completely furnished and had a tiny bathroom, kitchenette, computer, and a big TV, so she often went in there when she wanted to make an important phone call and needed privacy. Knock on wood, she’d never had to use it because she was in danger, which Lola was pretty thrilled about.
Lola waited for Agent Prince to answer. He didn’t pick up, so Lola left him a message asking him to call her as soon as he could. After she hung up, she went over to the computer and booted it up, which took a while because of the elaborate firewalls and protections that Mike insisted on installing.
When it finally came up, she took the flash drive out of her pocket, plugged it in, and flipped through it again. The spreadsheets and the computer code weren’t any more understandable than they were before, so she went directly to the memos. They mention programming and pathways, so what was that about? Software maybe? Was it some kind of computer experiment?
Maybe if someone could figure out the computer code, they’d have an idea of what the hell the memos were discussing, but she was completely clueless. Annoyed, she ejected the drive and put it in the small wall safe hidden in the bookcase. A hidden safe inside a hidden panic room? That should keep it safe enough.
She went back to the computer and did a search of Mitchell Willard. The first three pages that came up dealt with the circumstances of his death, so she skimmed over those. The rest dealt with his prior crimes and his trial, and she grimaced when she saw plenty of pictures of her looking like death warmed over at his sentencing. She couldn’t find anything on his current employment.
She went to a different website and logged in. This was a website that would allow her to check an individual’s background, including employment records, criminal records, arrest records, marriage and divorce records, bankruptcies, and other background information. After so many years as a criminal defense attorney, Lola had decided that most people are liars by nature, so she ran checks on all of her clients and employees.
Bingo. There was tons of stuff on Mitch. Divorced, right. Bankruptcies, of course. Plenty of old lawsuits, most of them trying to get money back that Mitch had stolen, she was sure. Tons of jobs, most of which he was fired from, usually because they suspected him of stealing but had a hard time proving it. Mitch was a total sleazeball, but freak smart and extremely knowledgeable about hiding money.
It looked like Mitch’s current job was with a pharmaceutical company, DeLeon Labs. Lola was curious. Was DeLeon the guy’s name or did the company deal with stuff that makes you look younger like Ponce de Leon’s quest for the fountain of youth? She opened another window and pulled up DeLeon Labs. Apparently, the owner, Marco DeLeon, claimed to be a descendant of Ponce de Leon, and somewhere along the way, the surname had ended up as DeLeon. The business was a pharmaceutical business that mainly manufactured opioid pain medications and various types of prescription grade sunscreens and acne treatments.
Lola shrugged. What kind of information could Mitch have taken that could have gotten him killed? Was he threatening to sell the cure for zits to the highest bidder? That didn’t make a whole lot of sense. More likely, he took a ton of Mr. DeLeon’s money, and Mr. DeLeon got pissed and got even, and if so, she totally understood that.
That looked like a dead end, so she opened another tab and typed in “Pandora Unlimited”. There were entries for Pandora radio, Pandora wireless, the story of Pandora, but nothing about a company named Pandora doing any research or dealing with software, other than software that monitored business IT systems. She tried the same search on the background check website, and nothing came up.
Well, that was frustrating. Lola was trying to figure out another angle to try when the satellite phone rang. She ran to the table to pick it up. “Lola Prentiss.”
Agent Prince sounded genuinely glad to hear from her. “Hey Lola, Steve Prince. How are you and all your buddies doing?”
Lola flopped on the sofa and laughed. “Well, personally we’re all good. I’ll make sure I tell everyone I spoke to you and you said hey.” Both good Southerners, they went through the obligatory small talk, asked about work and each other’s families before they finally got down to business.
“Steve, I might have something going on that I’m not sure how to handle and I wanted to get your opinion.” Lola proceeded to tell him all about Mitch coming up to her after the game and sticking the flash drive in her pocket and ending up dead, the weird stuff on the flash drive, and her worry that someone could come after her, or someone she cared about, in order to get it. “Since I don’t know what’s on it, I wasn’t sure what to do next, and I don’t want to risk the safety of anyone else. Worse, I feel stupid making a big deal of it at this point because this could be a whole lot of nothing. You have any ideas of how to proceed?”
There was silence on the end of the line, then Lola heard him take a deep breath. “Wow, Lola. I see your problem. You have no idea if there’s an issue, and if so, you don’t know how big it is. Or who’s involved. Or if it’s dangerous or not.” He paused. “Where’s my damn phone?” She could hear him shuffling around papers on his desk. “Hang on, Lola. Let me find my cell phone and I’ll be right back with you.”
Lola sat there on hold, rubbing her eyes. Apparently stress and a few hours of sleep after a total letdown was a bad combination. She could feel herself finally relaxing when Prince came back on the line.
“Lola, here’s what I think you should do. You got a pen?”
She grabbed a pen and paper off the coffee table. “Yep. Ready to go.”
“And I can trust him?”
Prince laughed. “Yep. I can personally promise you that he is completely trustworthy. He’s a retired FBI agent and he now owns a corporate security firm there in Atlanta.” He laughed, “He’s also my little brother. Well, I guess that technically he’s my half-brother same mom, different dads, but my brother either way. He has a big firm, lots of IT and accounting guys, and I’m sure they can take a look at that and tell you exactly what the deal is with that flash drive.” He paused. “And Lola, don’t show it to anyone else or hand it to anyone except my brother. I’ve done this a long time, and some of those big corporate guys aren’t folks you want to mess with. As soon as I hang up with you, I’ll call Jake, so give me twenty or thirty minutes to track him down and fill him in. Then I want you to go ahead and try to get ahold of him. I don’t want this to drag out.” She heard him curse under his breath and more papers being shuffled. “And if I could find my damn phone, I could give you his cell number just in case.”
Lola snickered. “That’s what happens when you have too much going on. Some days, I’m so all over the place I couldn’t find my ass with both hands.” She plumped up the pillows behind her head. “Actually, I’m on a secure satellite phone instead of my regular cell phone.” She recited both numbers. “So have him call me on the satellite phone.”
“You got it.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “And Lola, until you know this is nothing, you need to be careful. I’ve seen some bad things happen over the years, and I don’t want anything to happen to you or your friends.”
