Seconds to Live

by Susan Sleeman

  “That must’ve felt good.”

  “Yeah, for all of a day, but then I didn’t have a driving focus, and I was lost. No goal.” As the memories played like a video in his brain, he shook his head to push the images away. “I suddenly realized I was totally alone and decided to go see my father. I didn’t expect anything. I just wanted to show him how well I turned out, even without his support. To basically tell him off.”

  He got up, dropping her hand and keeping his back to her as he shared the painful part. “He showed me letters he’d written to me since the day he left through my high school years. They were marked ‘Return to Sender’ in my mother’s handwriting. She’d lied to me all my life.”

  The pain knifed through him, just as it always did when he thought about her lie. He clamped a hand on the back of his neck and faced Taylor. “She cost me twenty-five years with my dad. The closest person to me. My mother. The one person I should’ve been able to trust. She betrayed me.”

  Taylor rushed over to him, took his hand, and looked deeply into his eyes. “I don’t even know what to say other than I’m so sorry. Truly sorry. Do you see your dad now?”

  He nodded and pulled his hand free. “But that’s not the point here. Betrayal is. And lying. And what to do with it.”

  She tilted her head. “What can you do with it?”

  He steeled himself and locked the emotions back in the vault. “Forgive and move on, wiser and stronger. Then don’t let yourself get close enough to anyone to be hurt again. That way you can avoid the pain.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “He’s in my life, but we’re not close.”

  She studied him, long and hard. “And if you’re not willing to risk getting hurt, where does that leave us?”

  He could hardly believe that after all the avoidance, she brought this up now. “That’s why I liked our strictly online relationship. It couldn’t go anywhere.”

  “And now?”

  “Now.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to come up with a response. “I don’t know. Can I trust you, or are you going to pull the rug out from under me too?”

  She stared at him, emotions racing over her face, giving him the answer he didn’t want to see. She wasn’t sure. Taylor. His friend. The woman he was falling for. Wasn’t sure about how she felt about him. He couldn’t chase after his feelings for her. He had to keep an emotional distance in the event they ended up wanting different things.

  The door opened, and Glover shuffled in, his head down. Perfect timing.

  Sean let out a sigh. Taylor continued to look at him, but then her lips pressed together as she shifted her attention to Glover.

  He dropped into a chair and gave her a sullen look. “Let’s get this over with.”

  She eased out a long pent-up breath and sat across from him. She took her time adjusting her sling, pressing her free hand flat on the table. She lifted her face, her concentration so deadly intense for an even-tempered woman that it shocked Sean. He was afraid she might verbally attack Glover. To preempt her, Sean quickly started the recorder placed in a cutout in the wall. He informed Glover that he was being recorded and got his permission to do so.

  “Why’d you do it?” Taylor demanded.

  Glover shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “If only I’d kept the burner phone he gave me, you could see for yourselves every communication I had with the jerk who made me do this.”

  “Why’d you get rid of it?” Sean asked.

  “He instructed me to,” Glover said matter-of-factly.

  “He?” Taylor continued to glare at him. “You mean Phantom.”

  “His name in the text was Paul. That’s it. I can’t tell you if it’s this Phantom guy you’re looking for or not.”

  Paul. There was that name again, and Sean wished they knew more about him. “Is that the only way he communicated with you?”

  Glover nodded.

  “What about the break-in?” Taylor’s voice remained laced with pain. “Were you part of that?”

  “No. No way.”

  “Start at the beginning,” Sean said. “Tell us how this Paul contacted you.”

  “I came out to my car one day and found a phone in an envelope.” Glover clenched and unclenched his hands. “It contained pictures of my kids. On the playground. At school. With Naomi. At the grocery store. Gas station. You name it, he’d taken their pictures.”

  “He was telling you he could get to them,” Sean said.

  “Exactly. Then he sent a text to the phone. Like he was watching me and knew I had it in my hand. If I didn’t do what he wanted, he would kill one or all of them. He sent me pictures of a man he’d butchered. Or at least he claimed to have butchered him.” Glover described the photos in detail, which matched the murder of Phantom’s associate.

  Sean pictured a child butchered this way, and acid burned up his throat. He reached for an antacid, but didn’t want Taylor to see his distress so he let the pain fuel his determination to find Phantom.

  “What exactly did he tell you to do?” Taylor asked, her anger in check now.

  “He told me he would leave flash drives and directions for me to enter information into the WITSEC database. He said it was malware and he’d hold the database for ransom. If I’d known his real purpose . . .” Glover clamped his mouth closed and shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think I would have done the same thing, but I just don’t know. They’re my kids. My kids.” Tears formed in his eyes, and he scrunched them closed.

  Taylor watched Glover for a long moment. “You were in a nearly impossible position. I get that. But you should have come to me. We could’ve brought your family into protection.”

  He stared at Taylor. “And then what? Start over somewhere new? No contact with our family and friends? I’ve seen that play out way too many times to inflict it on my own family.”

  “So you don’t believe in the program your agency provides.” Sean let his disgust flow through his words. He usually tried to contain his emotions in an interview, but as a law enforcement officer who’d sold out the agency, Glover was the lowest of the low in Sean’s book.

  “Oh, I do,” Glover said. “It works great. We keep people alive who wouldn’t make it a day without us. But the innocent people—the ones who simply witness a crime and have to go into the program—pay a huge toll. They did nothing wrong, and just like that, they’re punished for it.”

  Sean sat forward and stared at Glover. “It would’ve been better than betraying your oath. Your coworkers. The witnesses.”

  Glover crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

  “Fine. Clam up,” Sean spat out. “That’s what people like you do. Lie and betray and then shut down. I’ve seen it too many times, and you’re a poster child for all of them.”

  Sean sat in the conference room staring at his computer. Since their follow-up interviews with Dupont and Glover, Sean had thoroughly vetted Dupont’s story and reviewed the evidence from his house. He also picked up the video at the coffee shop where Dupont had met Phantom. While the footage failed to show Phantom’s face, his body size, build, and other physical details supported Dupont’s statement. The car might be another story after forensics processed it, but for now, they had nothing on Dupont.

  “Yes!” Cam punched his fist into the air. “I’ve got it. The list. It’s done.”

  “Excellent. Email it to me now.” Sean’s computer dinged right away, and he downloaded the list containing 236 names. “Longer list than I expected.”

  Cam nodded. “Question is, did Phantom put all the names up for sale yet? I’ll cross-reference them to his site on the dark web.”

  Sean nodded and quickly scanned the list, looking for Dustee and the three witnesses who were attacked the other night. He spotted all four names. Not a surprise.

  “You found me, right?” Anxiety darkened Dustee’s eyes.

  Sean hated to tell her, but she needed to know. “Yes. Your record was accessed.”

  “S
o it really was Phantom who chased me, who tried to kill me.” She wrapped her arms around her body.

  Taylor swiveled in her chair. “I’m sorry, Dustee. I wish it wasn’t so, but it’s not really a surprise, is it?”

  “Still . . .” Her voice cracked. “Hearing your name is officially on a hit list is totally different.”

  “Yes, I can imagine it is.” Taylor reached for Dustee’s hand.

  She jerked it away to go back to her computer. “I need to work. I’m going to find his signature in these files and nail him. Make sure he goes away for infinity-plus.”

  “That’s my girl. Put your anger to good use.” Taylor smiled and changed her focus to Sean. “I’ll need the names of any Portland witnesses on the list.”

  Sean wasn’t sure how to respond. She had to know the list should go directly to Eisenhower, and then he would distribute it. But that could take hours. Maybe a day. Sean couldn’t bear it if during that time one of Taylor’s witnesses was murdered. “Besides Dustee, there are two others on the list.” He jotted the names on a sticky note and handed it to her.

  She grabbed the note and jumped to her feet. “I have to call Inman. I’ll be right back.”

  She bolted for the door, where Sean heard her ask Snow to escort her to the small conference room. Sean emailed Eisenhower the list, along with an update on the investigation. He replied right away, stating that the Marshals’ IT staff were still reviewing other areas of the server, and if they located anything, he’d get back to Sean.

  Sean mentioned the email to his team. “Other than the database modifications, anyone run across anything else on the cloned server to indicate additional tampering?”

  Cam looked up. “I haven’t had even a second to look beyond the database.”

  “Ditto that,” Kiley said.

  “And I don’t have access.” Dustee’s belligerent tone had returned.

  “The IT staff could be right,” Sean said. “You all keep on your tasks, and I’ll take a look. See what I can locate.”

  “FYI,” Kiley said, “I’m running an algorithm to scour the internet for any connection between Phantom, the coffee shop, and the bus-stop locations.”

  Cam cast her a skeptical look. “You really think you’ll find something actionable?”

  Kiley frowned. “It may be a long shot, but it’s worth checking out.”

  “The idea is sound, Kiley,” Sean forced out over a tightness in his throat.

  And I should have come up with it. But I didn’t.

  Why? Stress. Distractions. Taylor. The case closing in on him. Pressure. Much like the Montgomery Three investigation. All of it weighing him down. Everyone was fully invested in this case, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. Sometimes the bad guys still won and evaded capture.

  It was all up to God, and as much as Sean wanted to trust Him, when Sean’s mother died, he’d had to take things into his own hands. Become independent. Meant he often had a hard time trusting God to work things out. But if Sean had learned anything on the Montgomery Three investigation, he’d learned God was in control. Not him. God. That was true now, too, and worth remembering.

  But please, God, not this hacker. Please don’t let him slip away. And don’t let him kill anyone else.

  Taking comfort from the prayer, Sean started reviewing files so that no witness in danger remained hidden. Hours passed, and his neck cramped, but he kept at the job, as did everyone else.

  “It’s Phantom!” Dustee swiveled her computer so the screen faced Sean and jabbed her finger at it. “See the false flag? He signed it with a stolen digital certificate. It’s from Sphinx, one of Phantom’s known enemies. He’s tried to blame Sphinx in the past.”

  “Isn’t proof positive,” Cam muttered.

  Dustee crossed her arms. “Add that with the other things I know about him, and I have no problem attributing this hack to him.”

  Sean wished it were that easy. “The process of attribution isn’t that simple when you work for a law enforcement agency. We need more than this to officially attribute it to him.”

  “But you know I’m right, don’t you?” She grinned at Cam.

  “Oh, yeah.” Cam returned the smile, showing what a good-looking guy he was and surely a temptation for Dustee.

  “You need to get back to work and prove it,” Sean said to Dustee. “Any hint of the Russian connection?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good job, though,” he said to encourage her. “I knew you were the right person to find his signature.”

  She sighed and ran her fingers over the keyboard. “I’m gonna miss this when it’s over.”

  Surprisingly, Sean felt sorry for her. “Maybe you can talk to Taylor about finding a way to help out in a supervised manner.”

  “Maybe.”

  “She really wants you to be happy, Dustee. That’s what she’s here for.”

  “Yeah.” She shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

  It wasn’t Sean’s place to share Taylor’s strong desire to help others. “For one thing, she lives her faith.”

  “Right. That. She’s never come out and said she’s a Christian, but I can tell she is.” Dustee sat unmoving, her hands poised over the keyboard. “I think because of her, Dianne’s going to check it out.”

  “And you?”

  “Yeah . . . maybe after this I will.”

  Sean knew the change in lifestyle would be harder for Dustee than for Dianne, but he was glad to hear her pondering it. He offered a prayer for both of them, then it hit him. Was he living his faith the way Taylor seemed to be doing? She displayed her love in most every action. Of course, he didn’t know if she was acting that way because of faith, or if her guilt over Jeremy was what motivated her. Either way, God was using her to draw people to Him.

  As if thinking about Taylor made her materialize, she walked into the room. She looked content in a way he hadn’t seen since they’d met in person.

  “I take it everything’s okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Inman and the team are working on relocating the compromised witnesses, and of course, Dustee is with me. Even so, I didn’t tell the others to stand down on their vigilance yet.”

  He understood her hesitancy but wished she wasn’t still concerned. “I hope the list has been distributed to all the offices by now and everyone’s safe.”

  Taylor’s smile disappeared, and she dropped into the chair by Dustee. “Do you think this is it, or will we find others?”

  He hated seeing her good mood fade, but he had to tell the truth. “Anything is possible.”

  “I’ll keep after it, Taylor,” Cam said. “And if there are other names, I’ll find them. You can count on that.”

  She smiled. “Have we heard anything new on Dupont?”

  “The sketch artist is scheduled for morning,” Sean replied.

  Her phone rang, and she looked at the screen. “Odd. It’s Inman. What could he want when we just talked?”

  “Chief.” She tipped her head to listen, and her lips pursed in that cute way Sean loved to see. Her face suddenly blanched, and she grasped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white.

  Sean’s heart dropped to his stomach. Something was wrong. Totally wrong. Maybe it was something with one of the witnesses.

  “We’ll head out there right away.” Her voice broke.

  Sean wanted to fire questions her way, but he didn’t want to upset her more. He pressed his hands on his knees and waited for her to speak.

  She laid her phone on the table and looked up, the sadness in her eyes cutting him to the quick.

  “The bus driver we talked to,” she said. “Enzo Russo.”

  “Yes?” Sean held his breath.

  “He’s . . . dead.” She shook her head. “He was brutally murdered tonight.”

  CHAPTER 21

  THE COLD DAMP NIGHT bit into Taylor’s body, and the street where Enzo Russo lay sprawled on his back steamed under the large Klieg lights shining harshly on his body. The
mist added to the tension swirling in the air as Taylor and Sean signed in with the officer of record. Taylor scanned the mixed residential and commercial neighborhood in southeast Portland. She knew nothing about the area and had no idea why Enzo would have been here at this time of night.

  She eyed the body, glad for the distance that kept the details out of view. She’d been so demanding with Sean, telling him she was coming with him to the scene when he’d wanted her to stay at the office, but now her last meal sat like a ball in her stomach, and she doubted her ability to move her feet forward and duck under the crime scene tape to approach Enzo’s body. She’d seen murder victims exactly two times in her career, and both times she’d almost gotten sick.

  “Ready?” Sean grabbed the yellow tape.

  She nodded, but he had to see she was feeling queasy.

  “You don’t have to be here,” he said softly.

  She appreciated his quiet tone to keep the officer of record from hearing about her reticence. “I’m good.”

  They moved closer, their steps echoing through the night. They passed an emergency response truck, the ME’s van, an ambulance, and numerous police cruisers, their lights still flashing as if silently announcing the death scene. Local detectives, a crime scene photographer, uniformed officers, and criminalists swarmed like worker ants over the area, each of them with a specific job to do.

  What exactly her job was here, she didn’t know, but if this murder involved Phantom, she had to learn as much as she could to protect the twins. She gulped in moist air and slowly let it out.

  “I’m right here beside you.” Sean’s hand brushed against and tangled with her fingers for only an instant. Anyone watching wouldn’t have even noticed, yet his support gave her strength.

  “Thank you.” She offered him a small smile, but her lips trembled, betraying her emotions.