Seconds to Live

by Susan Sleeman

  Sean squinted at her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Sure. Clean away, and thanks.”

  Mack started toward the stairway, stopping to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Morning, Slim.”

  She smiled up at her friend. “I’m expecting videos from TriMet and the library anytime now. I could use some help going through them. Are you available?”

  He jerked a thumb at Sean. “You’ll have to ask our fearless leader.”

  She turned to Sean. “It really would be helpful.”

  “Sure,” he replied, but annoyance flicked through his expression. Why, she didn’t know.

  “See you later.” Mack strode toward the stairway, his shoulders thrown back and his steps purposeful. The uneasiness between him and Sean remained hanging in the air.

  It seemed Sean didn’t get along with Mack, and vice versa. Perhaps the two men were too much alike, both overly competitive. She hadn’t noticed whether or not this interfered with their work, but then again her experience with them was limited to just the one investigation, and that wasn’t in person where she might’ve seen the nuances in behavior.

  “I love how your team is multi-agency,” she said to Sean, feeling like she needed to stand up for Mack. “It was great to see the agencies cooperate in the Montgomery Three investigation. I especially appreciate that you have such a talented deputy on the team.”

  “Mack’s good at his job and well-respected, I’ll give him that.” Sean sounded reluctantly impressed. “His fugitive investigation skills have helped us bring in many of our suspects.”

  “He told me Eisenhower added him to your group when he came to complain about something the team did.”

  “Yeah.” Sean frowned. “Not my finest day, but yeah. Mack was mad at how I handled an interrogation. Eisenhower defended me, but he liked the way Mack stood his ground too. Eisenhower saw the value of having a deputy with Mack’s experience on the team. The rest is history.” He closed his laptop and put it in his case. “FYI, we’re heading into the FBI office at nine to start working logs and searching for modified files. I’ll need Dustee to join us.”

  Taylor didn’t like that plan. “I’d rather not have her leave the house and expose her to a potential attack. Can’t she just do her thing here?”

  Sean shook his head. “No access to the cloned server.”

  Taylor couldn’t very well argue with that. “Then I’d like to send a decoy vehicle ahead of us. Just to be sure.”

  “I figured you’d want to do that. I already contacted Snow. He’s on his way with a female agent to stand in for Dustee.”

  She nodded her thanks. “That’s great.”

  “I aim to please.” A grin spread across his face.

  Despite her resolve to ignore her feelings, his consideration touched her heart. “Are you any closer to knowing when the hack occurred?”

  “Not really, no. We reviewed the—”

  “I need to talk to you, Sean.” Kiley’s voice came from behind.

  Taylor had been so wrapped up in her conversation with Sean, she didn’t hear Kiley approach. Taylor swiveled in her chair to look up at Kiley.

  Kiley grabbed a white pillow from the end of the sofa, and after eyeing a club chair with a blue pillow, she quickly exchanged them.

  Sean sat forward to zip his laptop case. “You have something else?”

  Kiley karate-chopped the pillow to leave a V in the middle. “Maybe, but we should talk about it in private.”

  “No one can hear us down here,” Sean said.

  Kiley cast a pointed look at Taylor.

  “Me?” Taylor clutched her hand to her chest. “You don’t want to talk in front of me?”

  Kiley nodded.

  “But why?” Questions pinged through Taylor’s brain. “Oh, I get it. You want to talk about deputies I might know.”

  Kiley didn’t acknowledge or respond at all, but just remained there, shoulders back, lips pursed.

  “The Marshals Service doesn’t have dirty deputies, and our security is as tight as it can be,” Taylor said, though she doubted her own words as soon as they left her mouth. She wished she’d received the security videos from Hershel already and could at least clear her coworkers of any wrongdoing. “The computers are locked up in every office with keycard access only.”

  “See.” Kiley put a hand on her hip. “That’s why I want to talk to Sean alone. If I say anything bad about a deputy, you’ll argue with me and waste time when we don’t have time to waste.”

  Taylor wouldn’t give up that easily. “If I promise not to respond at all, will you share what you’ve found?”

  “Fine.” Kiley tilted her head, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. She sat on the coffee table and leaned forward. “As I’ve been reviewing the logs, the pattern of late-night database logins bothered me.”

  Taylor opened her mouth to ask for clarification, but then remembered she wasn’t supposed to speak, so she fired Sean a questioning look.

  “We found three offices with a high number of middle-of-the-night logins,” he said. “Would that be normal for one of your field offices?”

  Taylor shook her head. “Some logins, yes. In an emergency. But a large number? No. In my experience, that wouldn’t be the norm.”

  “Cam and I thought the same thing,” Kiley said. “So we’re thinking that the hacker changed the log clock on these offices, showing logins at odd hours of the day to lead us astray.”

  “He can do that?” Taylor asked, not caring that she wasn’t supposed to speak.

  Sean nodded and locked gazes with Kiley. “The minute we access the cloned server, I need you to look for any software updates that would alter the clock. We figure out how this change impacts the records, and just maybe we figure out who hacked the database.”

  CHAPTER 11

  THE SUN SHONE BRIGHTLY over the local FBI office, highlighting the brick structure near the airport. A spiky wrought-iron fence surrounded the building, and a security booth stood out front for guest check-in. Yet Sean drove past the main entrance as Taylor and Dustee gawked at the relatively new building. They wouldn’t be entering through the front door.

  For Dustee’s safety, Sean had arranged to use the secured parking lot. He swung the car around back to the multilevel structure protected by an impenetrable barrier that had to be lowered for access. Mack and the other team members trailed them in a separate SUV. Sean parked and dialed Yancy Andrews, the assistant special agent in charge of this field office.

  Tall and gangly with thinning gray hair that looked like he’d pasted tufts of it across his scalp, he was intensely focused as he met them at the door and reviewed their credentials before escorting them to a large conference room. Waiting for them on a long, polished mahogany table sat laptops with cords running to the bureau’s network hub. For security reasons, the team couldn’t use their own machines on this network, but they did have access to the cloned server via the computers here.

  Andrews handed Sean a note card. “Login credentials for each computer.”

  Sean took the card and was grateful the ASAC had assigned separate logins. He could now easily track any untoward network use by Dustee.

  “I’ve arranged for snacks and lunch to be brought in, and help yourself to the coffee.” Andrews pointed at a portable bar with a coffeepot. Fresh pastries lined the top shelf, with the lower shelves containing the coffee-making supplies.

  “Perfect,” Sean said. “You’ve thought of everything.”

  “You have my cell number. Call me if you need anything else.” Andrews started to leave, then turned back. “Oh, and Agent Snow will be right outside ready to escort you around the building when needed.”

  Sean nodded and clamped down on his lips to keep from spouting off. Dustee needed an escort, that he understood, but the others? No. They didn’t need babysitting. They were trustworthy. Still, Andrews was only following policy, and Sean enforced the same rule regarding the transport of guests in his own office.

  “Um, logi
n credentials,” Cam demanded from behind a computer at the end of the table. The guy might have a laid-back personality, but when it came to work, he could get pushy.

  After logging Cam in, Sean made his way around the table to where Taylor sat next to Dustee. She’d dropped into a chair by the nearest computer and stroked the keyboard, her expression dreamy. He took a seat on her other side, but before he could log her in, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID.

  “Hang on,” he said to her. “I gotta take this.”

  “Of course you do.” She sighed and slumped back in her chair.

  Sean ignored her attitude and quickly answered the call from Gary Boyd, C3’s phone analyst. “What do you have, Boyd?”

  “The text to Dustee came from a burner phone,” he replied in his usual no-nonsense tone. “No way we’ll get owner information for a burner.”

  Though Sean had expected Phantom to cover his tracks, taking extra precautions by using a prepaid untraceable phone, he still didn’t like having it confirmed. “Get a warrant for the telecom and request a call log so I can at least review the other calls made from that phone. Maybe those numbers will lead to more contacts and produce a much-needed lead in the investigation.”

  “Will do.” Boyd sounded way too laid-back for Sean’s liking.

  “Telecoms can take their sweet time at responding. Keep the heat turned up on them until they comply. And get the log to me the minute you receive it.”

  “Understood.”

  Frustrated, Sean disconnected. “The text to Dustee came from a burner phone. Boyd will request the call log.”

  No one said anything. Why bother when it was the news they all expected?

  “Now is it finally my turn?” Dustee’s whine grated on Sean.

  Taylor leaned forward and looked him in the eye. “We need a quick review of the rules before you sign her in.”

  “No surfing the web without permission,” Dustee snapped. “Duh! I got it.”

  “Maybe we need to add an attitude change.” Sean eyed her. “Because I really don’t want to work with you right now.”

  “Sorry, but it’s like I get it already.” She sighed, long and drawn-out like a balloon deflating. “Quit harping on it. You can trust me.”

  Taylor shared a look with Sean that said they couldn’t, and he had to side with Taylor. “Time will tell.”

  Dustee crossed her arms over her pastel tie-dyed shirt. “Log me in, and I’ll prove it.”

  They’d discussed her role on the drive to the office, and she now possessed sufficient knowledge to get started without additional directions, so Sean entered her network credentials. He would keep a close eye on her. No telling what she might get up to. At least they’d restricted her permissions, and she couldn’t see confidential information or overwrite files like the team could.

  The computer finished logging in, her screen filling with a list of cloned server files. Her eyes brightened, and she cracked her knuckles and started typing. She was a beautiful woman, but in her element she moved to runway-model beautiful. Still, her looks didn’t do a thing for Sean.

  But the woman at her side, the one with the confident tilt to her head and eyes that were warm and vulnerable, the one who possessed a heart of gold and compassion that knew no bounds . . . now that was a face he could get lost in.

  Maybe Mack could too.

  Sean’s gut tightened. He didn’t like the way Mack kept touching her. She’d said there was nothing between them, that they were just old friends and coworkers. Still, Sean didn’t like it. Not one bit. But it was his problem, not theirs. Gina’s betrayal with his best friend left him doubting everyone. Not a good feeling. He valued Taylor’s friendship. Now he might lose it because of this crazy attraction between them. An attraction he thought he could control. But man, when Mack touched her, Sean saw red.

  Mack looked up, and Sean prepared himself for a scowl, but instead his teammate looked at Taylor. “I finished the first video, Slim. Which one do you want me to watch next?”

  “I’m still on the second one,” she replied without looking up. “Go ahead and start number three.”

  “Roger that,” he said, and went back to work.

  Sean didn’t like the pair of them working together, but at least they were right here where he could keep an eye on them.

  Man, had he really gotten that suspicious? Not the guy he wanted to be for sure. When this investigation was over, he needed to do some soul-searching. For now, he’d settle for keeping his feelings under control and not hurting Taylor.

  His phone rang. Perfect timing. He didn’t recognize the number, but he needed the distraction so he quickly answered. “Special Agent Sean Nichols.”

  “Agent Nichols, this is Agent Bristow in Philadelphia,” the woman said, her voice deep.

  “Yes, Agent Bristow,” Sean said, wondering why she was calling him.

  “I worked Phantom’s investigation. My ASAC said you’d requested our case file for your current investigation, and I thought you should know that I think Phantom is operating under the name Paul Jackson.”

  He remembered the name from the case file, but only because it was listed as the warehouse owner’s name. “Why wasn’t your theory in the report?”

  “Because I didn’t—don’t—have concrete evidence to prove the connection.”

  “What do you have?” He tried not to sound suspicious, but he didn’t manage it.

  A frustrated breath of air came rushing through the phone. “The real Paul Jackson can barely use a smartphone, let alone perform a complicated hack. He’s clearly not our guy. But I’ve recently heard mention of the name in hackers’ circles on the dark web in connection with Phantom. I figure he decided to use Jackson’s name. Maybe his entire ID.”

  Sean wanted to believe this, except he needed hard evidence to do so. “The real Paul Jackson could’ve put on an act for you. Downplayed his skills.”

  “No. No way. We thoroughly vetted him. Left nothing unturned.”

  Maybe she had something here. At least it was worth checking into. Especially since they didn’t have a strong lead of their own. “Have you documented your findings in writing?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And are you willing to share your report with me?”

  “If you think it will help bring this despicable guy to justice, you better believe I will.”

  Sean gave her his email address and thanked her before disconnecting. He looked at Dustee. “You ever hear the name Paul Jackson in connection with Phantom?”

  She didn’t look up from the computer. “Should I have?”

  “No.” He stood.

  “Okay, people, listen up.” He shared the information he’d just received from Agent Bristow. “Mack, I want you to leave the video reviews to head up this line of inquiry. Get a strong contingent of analysts in D.C. to search for the name Paul Jackson in connection with hotels, car rentals, et cetera in the Portland area. Check every flight manifest from Philadelphia in the last month. Trains and buses too.”

  “You got it.” Mack’s eyes lit with the thrill of the hunt as he grabbed his phone, while Cam and Kiley kept their heads down just like Dustee.

  They were listening. Sean was sure of that. Multitasking to find the much-needed list of names.

  “That’s it! I’ve got it!” Kiley shot to her feet. “The software was updated two weeks ago. We were right. The update changed the way logs record time stamps.”

  “Systems change all the time,” Sean said, trying not to get excited about this news.

  “True that, but the update was done at 3:27 a.m., and we’re talking a government database here.” Kiley started pacing the length of the table. “No one is likely to alter code in the middle of the night unless the system was offline or there was a security breach, which the IT staff said didn’t happen. And it most definitely wouldn’t be altered from a remote location.”

  “Just to clarify,” Taylor said, spinning around to look at Kiley, “you’re saying some
one logged in from a remote office in the middle of the night and changed the program?”

  Kiley gave a firm nod, her ponytail swishing.

  “Then get on the phone to our Marshals’ IT contact in D.C.,” Sean said. “Verify that this wasn’t an approved update, and we’ll take it from there.”

  Kiley frowned. “You know they’re going to say it wasn’t authorized.”

  “I suspect so, yes, but I want to confirm before we commit any resources to that area. Meanwhile, Dustee can get started analyzing the code.”

  Kiley cast a skeptical look at Dustee.

  “She knows Phantom’s signature.” Sean held Kiley’s gaze, warning her that this wasn’t negotiable and waiting for her to respond with her agreement.

  She nodded, but turned away to straighten a picture of the FBI director on the wall.

  “You didn’t say which office the code update was launched from,” Sean said.

  Kiley looked over her shoulder at Taylor. “You’re not going to like this. Someone at your office uploaded the update.”

  “No.” Taylor shook her head and crossed her arms. “Not my office. You’re wrong, Kiley. Totally wrong. The deputies I work with wouldn’t do that.”

  Kiley jabbed her finger at the laptop she was using. “It’s right here on my screen, if you want to take a look for yourself.”

  “I don’t believe it. It can’t be true.” Taylor’s expression intensified, turning confrontational.

  “I don’t make mistakes, and I resent the implication that I did.” Kiley fired a combative look at Taylor and took a step toward her, looking like she planned to deck her.

  “Stop, both of you,” Sean said. “The last thing we need is to turn on each other.”

  “But . . .” Taylor shook her head slowly. “It’s . . . unbelievable.”

  “Sure, fine, I get that.” Kiley lifted her shoulders into a rigid line. “You want to be loyal to your buddies. I understand, but don’t make out like I screwed up.”

  Taylor sighed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t calling your abilities into question. Really, I wasn’t. I’m just shocked. Maybe it would’ve been easier to accept if you’d shown me the information right off instead of just telling me.”