Bell to Pay

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Bell to Pay Page 17

by Jeremy Waldron


  I turned to Erin. She was busy scrolling through our message board’s online comments. “Nothing from our friend, LilJon, but this thing is blowing up.”

  I felt the pressure in my temples slowly move to the front of my skull. Taking a swig of water, I self-medicated with an Advil. There were more people coming out saying they too had been duped by either Thompson or Counts, a few of them by both, and now people were calling for me to publicly expose Counts like I had done to Thompson.

  “If only these people knew what was really going on,” I said.

  “You can’t blame them for asking,” Erin said, turning her attention to me. “They’re locked out of their investments. All they’re requesting is for us to put pressure on Donny’s exchange with hopes of getting their money released.”

  I wasn’t sure I could do that even if I wanted to. My priority was simple, and I kept my focus on one person and one person only. I needed to learn who Loxley was, why he was doing what he was doing, and who he planned to kill next. Because until he was stopped, none of this other stuff mattered. Someone’s life was in his crosshairs and something told me he wouldn’t stop until all this uproar died down.

  Reaching for my cellphone, I began making calls to other local reporters, including Nancy Jordan, curious to know what they were hearing.

  “Oh, hey, Samantha,” Nancy answered. I didn’t waste anybody’s time. After catching her up to speed, she said, “Funny you ask. Of course everyone wants to know how he died, but what I found most interesting was how Donny gave a speech at Denver University just two days ago.”

  “About what?” I asked, my thoughts suddenly drifting back to the event flier I saw on Garcia’s desk.

  “The usual spiel about how great a businessman he was. But, get this, apparently he pitched his service pretty hard this last time around and now people who attended the event are assuming that he did, knowing that he about to exit.”

  “Exit?”

  “Yeah, he was planning to skip town but died the night before.”

  “Where was he going?”

  “Two one way tickets to Bangkok, Thailand.”

  “Who was the other ticket for?”

  “His girlfriend, Rose Wild.”

  My mind drifted to Garcia’s comment about doubting Donny was even dead. Garcia made me believe someone else had said it to him, but now I wondered if Garcia wasn’t being completely honest with me. Then Nancy dropped even bigger news into my ear that I couldn’t believe.

  “And I’m still working to confirm this rumor, but there are lots of whispers about a possible vigilante who might be responsible for not only the death of Donny Counts, but also Richard Thompson.”

  “A vigilante?” I tried to sound surprised.

  “It’s big, Sam. Even if we don’t know this guy’s name, ratings are going to shoot through the roof. You just wait and see.”

  I rolled my eyes. TV reporters were always after one thing—hitting their audience hard with the juiciest story possible first, and fact-checking second. When I ended the call with Nancy, Erin asked for a summary.

  “You don’t think Loxley is also reaching out to other reporters, do you?” she asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” I said, still waiting to hear back from Allison when I got a call from King.

  “Hi, honey.” I smiled, tried to sound upbeat.

  So much had happened since we last talked, I didn’t know where to begin. I needed to tell him about my latest message from Loxley and how Allison believed he hacked my home network about the same time Donny Counts was possibly being targeted.

  “Sam, you available to meet?”

  “Yeah. I’m at Rose Medical Center,” I said, hearing a small tap on my window. I jumped when I saw King. “You can’t do that to me,” I said through the cracked window.

  “Hey, King.” Erin leaned across the seat to greet him.

  King greeted Erin through the window. As soon as I looked in his eyes, I knew something wasn’t right. It was the same grave expression that kept my lungs from exhaling, and the same one I’d seen him wear when it seemed like the world was about to end.

  “Can I speak to you in private?”

  I felt like a school girl being called into the principal’s office. I told Erin to hang tight. Once I stepped out, I spotted Alvarez leaning against their sedan across the way. “How did you know where to find me? You’re not tracking my phone, are you?”

  King didn’t take the bait. Instead, he reached behind and pulled a copy of my Thompson article from his back pocket. “You know where we found this?”

  “It’s not the same one you discovered at Thompson’s house?” I asked, staring at my piece.

  King shook his head. “Joey Garcia had it in his office.”

  It felt like I was standing on a bed of coals. Slowly, the flames tickled my calves as the heat climbed up my legs. I wasn’t sure if I was mad because of possibly being betrayed by one of my own, or if it was because the police were once again harassing a reporter.

  “You had a warrant?” I asked. There was a lot more King wasn’t telling me.

  “You’re not mad?”

  “At him or you?” I peeked through the back window and saw Erin trying to pretend to ignore us.

  “Didn’t need a warrant,” King said. “His wife let us inside.”

  “But why were you there?” I asked. What King was suggesting Garcia did, wasn’t the man I knew him to be.

  My mind scrambled back to my conversation with Garcia just hours earlier and how something felt off. Was this why he asked to have that drink?

  King caught me up with how he was assigned to look into Donny Counts’s death.

  “You’re investigating a homicide?”

  Nothing was said, no confirmation, just silence. King kept his mouth shut and it only drove me closer to the brink of war.

  When asked, I told him I had heard about Donny’s death, but downplayed much of what I already knew. Two could play at this game, I thought to myself as I stared him down. Then I mentioned, “The reason I came to the hospital at all was because of a tip I received from Garcia.”

  King cocked his head to the side. “And what exactly did Garcia say?”

  “That Donny’s death was related to his diabetes.” King mumbled something about needing to get his hands on the official hospital report for his own records when I said, “Garcia doubted Donny was even dead.”

  I paused and let that sink in for a moment. King stopped breathing.

  “Garcia suggested Donny was taking his money and skipping town before everyone learned his exchange was a fraud.” I told King about how I was tasked to confirm whether or not Counts’s exchange was a Ponzi scheme or not. He barely reacted, but I saw it in his eyes. He knew it, too. “And early reports suggest that it might be true.”

  I could see that King was shuffling through his own thoughts when he finally told me to follow him to his car. “There is something else you need to see.”

  We walked. Alvarez nodded as I approached, but that was as far as his greeting went. It was clear he was only here because of King. With me still looking like a possible suspect, I didn’t see him warming up to me anytime soon.

  King asked if I had met, known, or spoken with Rose Wild recently. That was twice now that I had heard her name being mentioned, and I couldn’t wait to see what King wanted to show me.

  “I haven’t,” I said, wondering if I should speak with her before she jetted off to Southeast Asia.

  King nodded to Alvarez and I watched as John opened the back seat to their sedan, dipped down low, and came up a second later holding an insulin pump. He handed it off to King. “You know what this is?” he asked me.

  “I think so.”

  “It’s Donny Counts’s insulin pump.”

  “Why do you have it?” I asked, thinking about the hospital report I’d seen.

  “Rose Wild gave it to us. Said that this is how Donny was killed.”

  I could feel the warmth spread across th
e small of my back. “Can I look at it?”

  King didn’t see why not. He’d already sealed it away inside a clear plastic evidence bag for safe keeping. I took it between my fingers and stared at it, thinking about Loxley.

  The hospital report had already given me a good glimpse into what happened, but I needed to open up King to gain better insight into what he knew. “The hospital said the same thing. The device malfunctioned.”

  King shook his head. “Sorry, let me rephrase that. Rose suggested someone took control of it and purposely killed her fiancé.”

  My heart started beating faster. I couldn’t make eye contact with King.

  King must have seen my face go pale because he asked, “Is Rose right?”

  “I don’t know,” I said in my smallest voice. Then I told him how it fit my running theory that a hacker was behind both Thompson’s and Counts’s murders.

  “The messages you’ve been receiving?”

  I nodded. “He hacked into my home network last night right after you let.”

  “Christ, Sam.” His face was a mix between anger and agony. “How long were you going to keep that from me?”

  I shrugged. “It’s all happening so fast.”

  King shoved his fingers through his hair.

  “He signed his name on the last letter he sent.” King spun around and stared into my wet eyes. “He’s calling himself Loxley.”

  Alvarez took a step forward and shared a glance with his partner. Then I told them both what Loxley wrote, his fight against greed, and my theory of how he chose his name.

  “A vigilante?” Alvarez quirked a single brow.

  “Appears so.”

  “And if he hacked Counts’s insulin pump, my money is on him being behind Thompson’s death, too,” I said, holding up the pump and explaining the intricacies of how a smart home system could be taken over remotely.

  King inhaled a single breath of air and started his profile assessment of Loxley. “Young white male. Single.” He ticked each one off as he counted them on his fingers. “Degree in computer science.”

  “Know anyone who fits the profile?” I asked both detectives.

  “I do,” a voice said from behind.

  The three of us turned to look.

  Allison hustled over with Susan struggling to catch up as she trotted along in her high heels. Waving her hand through the air, Allison called out, “Sam, I know someone who fits that description, and I can also tell you where to find him.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  “Damien Black isn’t the hacker.” Susan folded her arms and glared.

  Allison planted one hand on her cocked-out hip and stared right back. “That’s not what I said. What I said was, he fits the profile.”

  “Stop,” I said, stepping between them. “We don’t have time to listen to you two bicker. Now, tell us, who is Damien Black?”

  “Susan’s new client,” Allison said happily as she bounced her gaze around the circle, nodding her round head. “We had a meeting with him today to check out his program. You remember?” Allison rolled her gaze to me. “Susan brought me along to make sure she wasn’t going to get Thompsoned again.”

  “Thompsoned?” Erin asked, joining the rendezvous by King’s car.

  “Yeah—duped into helping someone raising a shit load of money only to later learn it was a complete fraud.”

  “I see,” I said, recalling the conversation we had earlier today. The asphalt below my feet spun as I tried to keep up. “And now you think he fits the profile of Loxley?”

  Allison’s eyebrows squished. “Is that who we’re talking about?”

  I answered with a single look. King rubbed the nape of his neck. I knew he was losing patience.

  “Wait, Samantha,” King’s gentle hand closed around my arm, “who else knows about Loxley?”

  “Only us,” I said.

  “Shit, I’m sorry, Sam. I thought he knew?” Allison’s gaze went distant.

  Susan intervened and quickly told us who Damien Black was and why Allison said he fit the profile. I listened carefully and Susan painted a clear picture that I now understood.

  “And he teaches computer science where?” King asked.

  “Backstage. It’s a non-profit on the north side of the city. But Damien Black is certainly not Loxley. I can guarantee you that.”

  “She says that because he asked her out.” Allison smirked.

  “And, like I told him, I’m off the market.”

  “Unless Benjamin decides he’d rather work in New England than have you.”

  Susan’s neck craned. “I am work, honey.”

  “Christ,” Alvarez muttered as he stepped away. “I can’t listen to this anymore.”

  “Please, stop.” I was growing just as frustrated as Alvarez. I didn’t know what had happened or why they were down each other’s necks, but now was not the time to fight. “People are dying and, for all we know, Loxley is watching us right now.”

  Everyone paused and glanced over their shoulders as if suddenly feeling hidden eyes in the shadows.

  “All I’m saying is that he fits the profile.” Allison bounced her gaze to me, then to the detectives.

  I watched King check the time as I worked to bring everyone back to the table. “Let me take a moment to remind everyone that we’re all pressed for time.” When I made sure everyone understood, I turned to Allison and said, “King needs your help.”

  Allison lifted her head and grinned. “I didn’t realize that was why you called.”

  It was, but it wasn’t. Still holding Donny’s insulin pump inside my hand, I held it up and said, “Is it possible to hack an insulin pump?”

  Allison reached out to take it for herself. I watched her read the evidence bag, then she swept her gaze up and asked, “Whose is it?”

  “Donny Counts,” I said before King could stop me. He broke eye contact, rubbed a hand over his mouth, and turned his back. Alvarez didn’t know what to do about the free-flowing information being shared between police, reporters, and civilians.

  Allison swept her gaze to Erin. “And you think it was Loxley?”

  “I do.”

  Allison swung her gaze to King. “It’s quite easy, actually.”

  King twisted his spine and stared over his right shoulder.

  Allison kept her eyes fixed on King for a moment before continuing. “A hacker can take control through the tiny radio transmitters here.” Allison pointed to a corner of the pump. “Wireless commandeering, is what I like to call it.”

  “Cute,” I said.

  Allison thanked me before adding, “It’s there to allow patients and doctors to adjust their functions. Generally, one would need to be nearby and know the serial number to get the device to respond. But based on what I’ve seen on Samantha’s computer and knowing how good this guy is, I’d guess he wrote his own software and found a way to bypass the chain of command.”

  King’s lips parted. “Unbelievable.”

  “Which is exactly what Loxley would want you to think,” Allison said in all seriousness. “It’s what makes his strategy so successful. He can attack without ever stepping foot inside the victim’s house.”

  “Like Richard Thompson?” I prompted her, knowing King was listening.

  “Exactly.”

  The air stilled, and everyone was silent. I let Allison’s words sink into my brain, thinking about the hospital report I’d read and how it put Allison’s words into perspective.

  “How do you know so much about insulin pumps?” Susan inquired. I was glad she asked. I had a feeling we were all wondering the same thing.

  Allison rolled her neck and looked Susan in the eye. “My cousin Sheri has one, but it didn’t occur to me just how vulnerable it made someone until now.”

  It felt like my head was inside a vice being squeezed like a melon. Anyone using any type of technology were sitting ducks, and now I was beginning to think that Garcia’s comment about Counts still being alive was nothing more than a diversi
on tactic to get me to turn my head the other way. There was no denying I felt betrayed by one of my own, and it stung bad, but was he also the owner of the digital wallet? I didn’t want to believe it was true.

  “Was an insulin delivery denied or was there an overdose?” Allison asked.

  I blinked and came out of my thoughts. “Overdose.”

  Allison looked King in the eye. “Officially, my professional opinion is whoever killed him did so by wirelessly issuing a fatal dose.” She paused and stared. “Counts had no chance of surviving.”

  I looked into the heavy gaze of King’s eyes. King knew the city had a spree killer on its hands, one like Denver had never seen before, and catching him would be as difficult as proving these men were targeted and murdered by a ruthless killer. Nothing was scarier than this, I thought.

  “So, if their suspect is a hacker,” I spoke for King when speaking to Allison, “how does one go about finding him or her?”

  “Chasing a hacker is like chasing a ghost,” Allison said with an even tone. “They see you, but you don’t see them.”

  “Then I guess we’re lucky they’re talking with Sam.” King flicked his gaze over to me.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. Yeah, lucky me, I thought.

  “Hold on. Wait just one second.” Susan stepped forward with excitement flashing in her eyes. “I have an idea on how we can find this hacker, and it’s easier than we might think.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Joey Garcia stopped just shy of the entrance to the Wells Fargo bank on W. 38th Avenue in Sunnyside to answer the call coming in from his wife.

  “Cecelia, baby, is everything all right?” Garcia asked, knowing it wasn’t like her to be calling this early in the day unless something was wrong.

  “No, Joey, you’re so far from being okay.”

  Garcia stepped to the side, grinned at a customer passing by, and turned to face the street. With a flexed stomach, he asked, “What happened?” What did I do this time? Cecelia spoke fast and was straight to the point. He couldn’t believe what she was telling him. “And you let them inside without a warrant?”

 

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