Anna took another one of those long breaths, as if she were searching for patience. “Say, for example, you put lotion on your hands and then touch your phone. You leave behind traces of the lotion. Or you take a medication and leave traces of it. Or food. Just about anything that remains on our hands transfers to our phones.”
“How will finding that help?” Sean asked, the skepticism in his voice mimicking Taylor’s uncertainty.
Anna firmed her stance. “The skin chemistry left behind tells us what kind of lifestyle he leads. Could tell us where he likes to eat and where he might have eaten last. Give us products he uses that can be purchased only in certain locations. If we narrow down where he’s been, you can look for video or eye witnesses in those locations.”
“Sounds like more cutting-edge forensics,” Sean said. “Does it actually work?”
Anna’s head bobbed enthusiastically. “I’ve used it before to bring in killers, and I’m confident it can do the same thing here.”
The morning turned into afternoon while the team continued to review the many hard drives, though with little success in locating a lead. The conference room trash can was filled with empty Chinese takeout containers from lunch, the spicy scent lingering in the air. The pressure was getting to Sean again, but he was working hard to keep trusting God as he prayed to be led in the right direction. Taylor’s constant encouragement had also helped, and in a big way.
In the last few days, he’d let his heart rule his head too many times because of her. Typically he’d say that was a bad thing, yet now he wasn’t so sure. She’d brought something out of him that his mother’s lies and Gina’s treachery had stolen from his life. Now he could say he trusted someone again. Taylor. And maybe he was developing a willingness to give other people the benefit of the doubt too.
He watched her across the table, her finger swiping through pictures on her phone, her full attention on the screen. He could sit and look at her for hours, get lost in everything about her. Her beauty. Her personality. Her empathy for others. He’d never felt this way before. Ever. And he didn’t want it to end with the investigation. He was sure of that now. No going back to being friends. No long-distance relationship, but the two of them together, exploring their feelings for each other.
She glanced up and smiled, a soft, intimate smile for him only.
He started to get up to go talk to her when his phone rang, and he settled back down to check the screen. “It’s Anna.” He answered the call and tapped the speaker button. “Taylor’s here with the team, and I’ve put you on speaker.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding a bit hesitant. “I’ve finished processing the samples from the phone recovered at Jorgenson’s house.”
“And what did you find?” Sean kept his gaze on Taylor as they waited for what he hoped was a strong lead.
“We detected an anti-inflammatory and food molecules that included citrus and caffeine. All routine things, but interestingly we also found DEET and wood ash.”
“DEET,” Sean repeated. “As in the stuff used in mosquito repellent?”
“Exactly. Which would suggest that Phantom has spent time outdoors. And since there isn’t a fireplace at his house or fire pit outside, the wood ash might suggest a campground somewhere.”
Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t remember seeing anything on the evidence list that indicated he was a camper.”
“We weren’t looking for camping items,” Sean said as he processed the news. “Still, I don’t remember it from my walk-throughs.”
Taylor sat forward. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look again.”
“I agree,” Kiley said.
“Me too,” Mack weighed in.
Cam nodded.
“Thanks, Anna.” Sean disconnected, and he felt the mood in the room lift.
Cam sat closest to Sean, so he met his teammate’s gaze. “Keep an eye on Dustee so Taylor and I can search Phantom’s house for that lead we all desperately want to find.”
Taylor walked beside Sean up to Phantom’s house. Dark clouds hung in the sky, and fog clung to the building and overgrown shrubs like little whispers of smoke. She imagined Phantom lurking behind the bushes, gun in hand, peeking through the haze, ready to take another shot at them. She shivered.
Sean glanced at her. “You okay?”
She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Feels kind of creepy knowing the guy who shot me lives here.”
“I can see how you might feel that way.” He removed the screws in the plywood used to secure the house after they’d broken down the door.
Sean set the plywood aside, and she ignored her unease to step inside. A musty smell hit her hard as she flipped on the nearest light switch, and the place flooded with mottled orange light from a pair of old mid-century lamps sitting on tables of the same era. When she’d first walked into the house to locate Phantom, it seemed as if they’d been transported back in time. The house and furnishings were like a time capsule reminiscent of the 1960s.
She took another look around, not surprised to see black fingerprint powder covering many of the surfaces. “As bare as this place is, it’s hard to believe we’ll find something here. Nothing personal in this room at all.”
He nodded. “I’m thinking Phantom saw no point in it. Stay mobile, you know?”
“I doubt he even cares about that sort of thing. I’m going to start by searching the bookshelves.” She crossed the room to built-in shelves that looked original to the home.
“I’ll take a look in the garage.” Sean left the room.
She ran her hands over the top shelves, her fingers coming away coated with dust. She bent down to the bottom shelves hidden behind doors. She opened them and shone the light from her phone inside the deep cavity. Empty. Both sets. She ran a hand over every edge, looking for a false wall. Nothing.
The garage door closed, and Sean returned. “No camping equipment.”
She stood. “On to the bedrooms then.”
“I’ve already given the office a thorough search, so I’ll take the master.”
“What you’re saying is that I didn’t inspect his room as thoroughly.” She eyed him.
Sean opened his mouth to say something, but his face colored. “Sorry. I guess I am.”
“If I told you to trust that I’d done a thorough job, could you ignore the room?”
He warred with his answer for a long moment. “No, but it’s not personal. And I have a feeling you plan to search the office too.”
“That I do.” She grinned.
Smiling, he took a step in her direction, then shook his head as if changing his mind and marched out of the room.
What had he been about to do before taking the U-turn? He’d seemed pleased and then, poof, his mood changed. She’d gotten pretty good at reading him, but that look was too mysterious to interpret. She wouldn’t figure it out standing here, and honestly, it didn’t really matter. Finding Phantom, that was what mattered right now.
She made the short trek to the office over creaky wood floors. The desks had been cleared of computer equipment. Dust and black fingerprint powder covered the scarred wood. Down on her hands and knees, she peered under the desk for any hidden files, then moved to the drawers, finding them as empty as the bookshelves. She felt for a false bottom. Found none. She went to the closet and shone her light inside the empty space, inspecting every inch of it.
“Find anything?” Sean asked.
Startled, she jumped.
“Just a lot of dust.” Backing out, she brushed her hands together to clean off the dust and powder. “Let’s do the third bedroom together.”
He pointed at the door. “After you.”
Not a stick of furniture sat in the smaller room. The matted lime-green shag matched the carpet in the office, all over fifty years old, and she could only imagine what lived in it. She went straight to the closet and swept her light over the space. Finding nothing, she turned to leave when the beam caught something in the corner.
> She squatted to study the carpet. “Am I imagining this or is the carpet loose?”
Sean joined her, and she tugged on the shag. The carpet came up, revealing a large manila envelope.
“What’s that?” Sean’s voice rose.
“You tell me.” She handed it to him and pulled the carpet back further. “More envelopes.”
Sean glanced inside the one he held. “Pictures. Grab the other ones, and we can go to the family room where the light’s better.”
She gathered up the envelopes and joined him on the living room sofa that smelled old and stale, as if it had sat in this same place for eons. She opened the top envelope.
“More pictures.” She reached inside and pulled them out, her eyes landing on a Christmas photo with a young boy in candy-cane-striped pajamas. He sat in front of a brightly lit tree, a big frown on his face.
She flipped through the other snapshots to confirm they were all of family members. “It’s odd to hide these under a carpet.”
“Criminals often don’t make sense.”
She looked at Sean. “Do you think Phantom hid these or his parents?”
“I don’t know.” He paused, head tilted. “I don’t see Phantom being sentimental. And I also don’t see him risking leaving behind anything that could ID him. But why would parents hide pictures?”
She shrugged and thumbed through the remaining Christmas photos, giving Sean a chance to see them. “This child looks like he’s about three.”
“They were definitely taken in this house. Same furniture and décor.”
She looked up for a moment. “You know, I don’t get the sixties furniture here. When I first saw the house, I thought Phantom might have really old parents, but these pictures prove they aren’t that old.”
“They could’ve inherited the house from a parent and never changed anything. Or even bought it and liked the décor. Retro is kind of in.”
“It wasn’t back in the eighties when these pictures were taken.” She studied the photo. This one also included a young girl with dark hair in neat braids. “His parents are wearing conservative clothing and look pretty straitlaced. Not someone I’d peg as Phantom’s parents.”
“I wonder who the little girl is.” He turned over the picture. “Nothing written on the back.”
Taylor continued to look through the stack. “It still seems totally odd to hide these.”
“Maybe the other envelopes will explain it.” He dumped out the next one, and photos mixed with postcards from Disneyland dropped onto his lap. The same boy, looking unhappy, stood with Mickey Mouse. “The pictures are dated 1987.”
“Assuming Jorgenson and Phantom are the same person, his birth date says he would’ve been five here.” She glanced at the back. “Nothing.”
“He looks about that age.” Sean squinted at the photo, then set a few more beside it. “Do you see what’s strange about all of these?”
“He’s not smiling.”
Sean quickly browsed through the others. “He never smiles. Not even on his birthday. How can a five-year-old not smile on his birthday? Or Christmas or at Disneyland?”
“Some kids hate having their picture taken.”
“Yeah, but don’t you think his parents would’ve caught at least one candid with him smiling?”
She did. She really did. “Let’s look in the next envelope.”
Sean drew out school pictures in order of year. “Again. No smiles. Not even when he was younger.”
“Something seems very off about this family. Like what happened to the parents? Are they still living? We’ll need to research that.”
They continued through all the envelopes. The last one made Taylor sit forward. “Camping at Valley of the Rogue State Park. And he’s—”
“Smiling.” Sean leaned closer. “These snapshots cover several trips, and he’s having a good time in every picture.”
DEET and wood ash. “Do you think this is his happy place, and he’s hiding out there?”
“I think it’s worth exploring for sure.”
Eyes wide, Taylor clutched his arm. “We may not have found camping gear because he’s using it.”
Sean nodded. “I’ll send Jorgenson’s driver’s license photo to the park rangers. Ask if they’ve seen him. If so, I’ll arrange for a helicopter and head out there.”
“I’ll be going with you.”
“I—” Sean’s phone rang. “It’s Cam.”
Taylor’s heart dropped. Cam knew they would be back soon, so if he felt a need to call, something big must have happened. Could a witness have died?
Please, no.
Sean answered quickly and tapped his speaker button.
“You better get back here pronto.” Concern deepened Cam’s tone.
“Why?” Sean asked.
“Patrick Jorgenson can’t be Phantom,” Cam replied.
Taylor clasped her hands together. “Why not?”
“Because Jorgenson died eight months ago.”
CHAPTER 28
TAYLOR COULDN’T BELIEVE JORGENSON WAS DEAD, and based on the expressions on the RED team’s faces as they gathered in the safe house family room, they were also shocked. It really was unbelievable. The person they thought held the witnesses’ lives in his hands wasn’t the man they thought he was. They were no closer to finding him, and the witnesses remained in grave danger. Taylor feared for every person under her care.
“But the sketch matched Jorgenson’s driver’s license picture.” Sean stared at the official death certificate from the county records office.
“So Phantom stole Jorgenson’s ID.” Kiley drummed her fingers on the end table. “He could easily hack the DMV to change the picture to steal Jorgenson’s ID. Also change him from deceased to living if needed.”
“He didn’t change this.” Sean waved the death certificate.
Kiley frowned. “I’ll admit that’s baffling.”
Taylor thought so too. “Maybe all he needed was the driver’s license and didn’t care that Jorgenson was still officially dead.”
Kiley’s fingers stopped moving midair. “I’ll contact the DMV and get them to check their change logs for Jorgenson’s record to prove it’s been changed.”
Sean looked up. “How did you discover he died?”
“Actually I didn’t.” Kiley gnawed on her lip.
Mack rested his scuffed boots on the coffee table. “It was Dustee.”
“Dustee?” Sean shot a look at Cam, who leaned against the wall. “I left you in charge of her, and you let her use the internet? What happened? She sweet-talk you?”
Scowling, Cam pushed off the wall and planted his feet wide, the most confrontational posture Taylor had seen him use. “Actually, I didn’t.”
Sean swung his gaze to Mack. “You?”
Mack took his time crossing his ankles. “No.”
Sean turned to Kiley. “It couldn’t have been you. You’d never let a woman who exhibited zero control in her life do something like this.”
Kiley flinched.
“What?” Sean demanded. “You let Dustee use the internet? For real?”
She nodded, but uncertainty remained lodged on her face. “I got to thinking how I would feel if someone told me I could never use a computer again. Didn’t much like the feeling. She’ll be going back into exile soon enough. I figured what harm would it do if I let her search the net while I supervised.”
Sean’s disbelief lingered on his face, and Taylor thought he planned to unload on Kiley in front of all of them. Better to move forward before that happened.
“How did you get the actual death certificate so fast?” Taylor asked.
“Ah.” Kiley’s eyes brightened. “That was all Mack’s doing.”
Taylor looked at her friend.
“Texas charm, what can I say?” He grinned. “The woman at the county records office was putty in my hands.”
Taylor had seen him in action before, drawing out his Southern accent, throwing in a “Yes, ma’am” when
needed, and batting those impossibly long eyelashes at younger women.
“Your charm isn’t going to change the fact that our best lead so far is dead,” Sean muttered.
“Exactly.” Mack’s smile fell, and he dropped his boots to the floor. “That’s why I’m not waiting for the DMV records. I’m going to my computer to find every bit of information I can about Jorgenson.”
“Good idea for all of us, but not yet.” Sean grabbed the envelopes they’d brought back with them. “First, I need to show you the photos we found at the house.”
He passed the pictures around and reminded them of the DEET, his words concise and emotionless. If Taylor had been explaining, she would’ve let her sadness over seeing a small child who found nothing to laugh about impact her. One more difference between Sean and her.
“There’s a little girl in some of the pictures too.” Kiley looked up from the photo in her hand. “But I didn’t find any record of a sibling when I searched his family history.”
“She’s not in the majority of them, so a cousin maybe,” Taylor suggested. “Or even a friend.”
“Or a sibling who died,” Kiley said. “I’ll expand my family search and do a deep dive on Jorgenson’s parents and siblings, but a childhood friend might be a challenge to locate.”
“Hey, if anyone can find the information we need, it’s you.” Cam patted her shoulder.
“True that,” she said.
Taylor knew Kiley wasn’t bragging, just saying what she believed to be fact. From the information Sean shared about Kiley, Taylor knew her lack of socialization while growing up often left Kiley feeling awkward around others, and she could come across as socially out of step.
“What we really need is to know whose DNA was found in that bed,” Sean said. “Could it actually have been Jorgenson’s?”
Taylor hadn’t even considered how the bedbugs related to Jorgenson’s death. “Can bedbugs live for eight months? Maybe still have his blood in them?”
“Let me call Anna.” Sean dialed her and quickly launched into an explanation on speakerphone.
Seconds to Live Page 26
