A Reason to Believe (34 page)

its side. Finally, Matt managed to pull in behind

Bill’s garage. He killed the engine and the lights,

and then sat, catching his breath.

“Wow, that was impressive.” Kiernan’s eyes

were luminous in the near darkness.

“Impressive, how?”

“We didn’t end up in anyone’s swimming pool.”

Matt snorted. “As cold as it’s been, we’d likely

have slid across the top right into their family

room. Come on.” He opened his door and stepped

out, pulling his collar up around his throat when a

stiff breeze struck his cheeks.

“Christ,

it’s

gotten

colder,”

Kiernan

complained, slamming the Bronco door.

Matt was grateful Bill had shoveled behind the

garage, but the concrete driveway was still slick.

The moment the two of them stepped off the

pavement, they were nearly up to their knees in icy

white.

“Okay,” Kiernan groused, catching Matt’s arm

as his feet slipped, “the charm of the snow has

definitely worn off.”

Matt grunted. “Yeah, no kidding.”

They managed to make it to the covered patio

without either of them landing on their asses, and

then stood stomping the clinging white powder

from their legs. Matt reached into a shadowy

recess in an old outdoor fireplace and found the

key to the back door still secreted there.

It was dim and silent inside his brother’s usually

noisy, well-lit home. “Step carefully,” Matt

cautioned. “Twelve-year-old play area.”

“Can’t we turn on a light, maybe?” Kiernan

cursed under his breath when he kicked something

in the gloom.

“One sec.” Matt crossed to the large windows

that ran the length of the front of the house. He

cautiously pulled back the drapes and peered out.

“Nope, ‘fraid not.” Two news vans sat out front,

their inhabitants bundled up in heavy outerwear,

chatting amiably at the curb.

“Son of a bitch. How did they find your

brother’s house?”

“Searched my name on the Internet, I imagine.”

Matt let the curtains swing closed. “Plus, I

wouldn’t put it past whoever outed me to tip them

off I had family in the area. Come on. I know it’s

dark, but try not to break anything.”

“Yeah, I’d hate to smash an action figure or

something.”

“I was actually thinking more along the lines of

your neck.”

“Ah, you do care,” Kiernan said with a chuckle.

Kyle’s bedroom had a bathroom attached

through an open door. Fortunately, there was a

nightlight burning in a plug on the bathroom wall,

so the interior of the boy’s bedroom wasn’t totally

dark. The floor, however, was completely covered

with clothes, books, toys and a skateboard, which

Matt noticed just before he stepped on it.

“Skateboard,” he warned as he stepped over it.

“See it, but thanks. Think the bed is safe?”

“He’s twelve. Sit at your own risk.”

He was amused when Kiernan patted the

rumpled bedding before launching himself into the

middle of it. Matt took a seat on a chair much too

small for him behind a desk that was the same, and

cursed when he hit his kneecap sharply on the

edge. He clicked on the mouse and rubbed at the

sharp ache while the computer screen slowly lit

with the Windows sign on screen.

“Okay, Kyle,” he muttered, “what’s your

password.”

“Pet’s name,” Kiernan suggested.

“They don’t have one.”

“What, no dog?”

“He’s allergic.”

“Favorite cartoon character.” Kiernan grimaced

and reached under the bedspread, coming up with

a baseball. “Or major league player.”

“Let’s try Jeter,” he mused, inserting the name.

“Nope.”

“Football, maybe?”

“Seahawks.” He typed it in. Again the desktop

refused to open. “Not that, either.”

Kiernan tossed the ball up and caught it easily.

“Favorite food?”

“Mac and cheese.” Matt cursed when the system

still refused to open. But now a clue appeared

under the sign-in box. “Harry Potter’s nemesis…”

He frowned.

“Oh, come on!” Kiernan said incredulously

when Matt just stared at him. “Lord Voldemort!”

Matt blinked. “Alrighty then. Spelling?”

“You are seriously losing cool points, here,

Matthew. “L-O-R—”

“I’ve got that part, thanks.”

Kiernan grinned. “Just like it sounds,” he said,

leaning casually against the wall, legs crossed at

the ankle. “V-O-L-D-E-M-O-R-T. And you should

know you are the only person on the entire planet

who doesn’t know that.”

“I’m not the only person,” Matt grumbled as he

tried it. There was a bell tone, and Kyle’s desktop

appeared. “And not all of us think like a twelve-

year-old boy.”

Kiernan snorted. “Why, thank you, sir.”

Matt opened a search engine. “Let’s start with

Samantha Mitchell and see where it takes us,

okay?”

Several links appeared, but as Matt went

through each of them it became apparent they were

stories they’d already seen in the society pages.

Twenty minutes and nearly thirty links later, they

were no further along than they had been when

they’d come in the back door.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Matt muttered.

“How about PeopleFinder?” Kiernan suggested.

“Good idea.” When the main page appeared, it

asked for first name, middle initial, last name, and

state. Matt entered Patrick H. Mitchell and the

state. Forty-four boxes containing the name popped

up.

“Holy shit.” Kiernan scooted to the edge of the

bed. “There are that many Mitchells in the area?”

“More. Look here. Each one has a list of their

known relatives.” He scrolled through them, and

was nearly to the bottom when another name

caught his eye. “There he is.”

Kiernan’s hand rested on his shoulder as he

leaned closer. Under the heading Known Relatives

read Brandon Mitchell, Ethel Mitchell, Samantha

Elaine Mitchell.

“No maiden name,” Kiernan muttered. “Shit.”

“Not out here. But maybe inside…” Matt moved

the cursor over a red box near the bottom offering

more details and clicked the button.

Another screen loaded, bringing up the prices to

find additional information. They both cursed

aloud.

“Figures.” Matt reached toward his back pocket.

“No, use mine.” Kiernan grabbed his arm to

stop him, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Paper trail, remember?” Kiernan flipped the

wallet open and pulled out a credit card. “I can’t

be fired for doing a web search for Police

Commissioner Mitchell.”

Matt exhaled heavily. “I think that ship has

sailed,” he muttered, but took the card and entered

the information. When the page finally loaded, it

was clear they had the right Mitchell. Listed were

his parents’ names, his school records, every

address he’d lived at since college. And under

1993 was his marriage to one Samantha Elaine

Neumeyer on October 21, including the name of

the church.

Matt went back to the main page and entered her

maiden name. A similar page to Patrick’s opened,

listing her parents’ names and her college,

including sorority, and her wedding date to

Patrick.

“Okay, this is just weird.” Matt hit the back

button. “According to Toni, there’s a son who isn’t

Mitchell’s. So, either she’s wrong, or…”

“What if she wasn’t married? It’s not that

uncommon.”

“No. It still should have shown up. There’d be a

registered birth certificate.”

“What if she somehow managed to have her

record before she married Mitchell expunged? He

is a politician; they wouldn’t want an illegitimate

birth floating around out there on PeopleFinder. It

should have been easy enough for her, she’s

married to a lawyer.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Good point.” He stared

at the screen for a second longer and then exited

the page. When he went to the top and typed in an

HTML address, Kiernan sighed.

“Matt, you can’t do that. You said they keep a

record of all of the IP addresses. Plus, there will

be a record you signed in.”

“Listen, my job is probably already history.

Let’s get what information we can, while we can.”

The sign-on page he’d requested loaded, and he

entered his name and badge number. The

departmental website connected to an advanced

search engine, and under Inquiry, Matt typed in

Samantha Elaine Neumeyer.
Much more quickly

than at the paid site, a page loaded and Matt felt

Kiernan lean forward against his shoulder.

“‘Samantha Elaine Neumeyer,’” he read aloud.

“‘DOB, 16 September, 1954. Street Address:

1943 Rocky Cliff Drive. Attended University of

Washington 1972 through 1976. Graduated with a

BA in Business Administration…’”

His voice trailed away, and they both read the

entire page carefully. Near the bottom was the

e ntr y,
Spouse: Patrick H. Mitchell. Married

October 21, 1993. Mitchell elected to first term

as Police Commissioner in 2006…

“I don’t get it.” Kiernan sounded confused. “If

she has a son who’s now an adult, where is he?

Shouldn’t it show up?”

“It should. Unless someone has cleaned up this

site, too.” He turned his head to find Kiernan’s

eyes close, and quick with comprehension.

“Someone inside, then.”

Matt nodded. “Yes. Like Ed said, someone

inside.”

Kiernan looked thoughtful when his eyes shifted

back to the screen. “So, is this a dead end, then?”

Matt straightened with new determination. “Not

necessarily.” He directed the cursor back to the

search bar and typed in
Department of Vital

Statistics: all existing private records.
When the

request for a password came up, his lips tightened

as he typed it in.

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your entire body stiffened when you typed in

the password.”

Slightly disconcerted to find Kiernan could read

him so easily, Matt paused before he answered.

“This site is restricted, and heavily monitored. If

I’ve been officially terminated, we won’t be able

to access it at all. The first thing they do is rescind

our passwords.”

“Oh. Well, at least then you’ll know for sure.”

They watched the cursor blink and the status bar

slowly load. Matt had just about decided he had, in

fact, been fired when the page opened, and he

exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was

holding.

“There you go,” Kiernan said. “Still gainfully

employed.”

“For now.” Matt entered Samantha’s full maiden

name. “Let’s see what this does.” He pressed

enter. Almost immediately the page filled with

text. “Here we go. Graduated from Mt. Pleasant in

1972, went immediately to U of W. Wracked up a

dozen parking tickets in downtown Seattle

between 1972 and 1976…”

Kiernan laughed. “Sounds like me. I’m

notorious. It’s gotten to the point where Aidan

doesn’t want to let me drive at all.”

“Well, I’m sure Samantha’s daddy wasn’t

thrilled, either.” Matt scrolled further down.

“There!” Kiernan cried, pointing. “Certificate of

Marriage, 1980!”

Matt clicked on the link. They strained forward,

waiting anxiously. When the page loaded,

Kiernan’s fingers closed on his arm.

“‘November 18, 1980,’” Matt read aloud.

“‘Bride: Samantha Elaine Neumeyer. Groom:

Ambrose Garrett…Preston.’” His voice trailed off

into silence, and Matt stared, his heart leaping into

his throat.

“Holy shit,” Kiernan gasped.

The words had no sooner left his mouth than the

screen went blank.

“Son of a bitch.” Matt repeatedly punched the

Refresh button. Nothing happened for several

seconds, but then a box appeared. In bright red

capital letters were the words
ACCESS DENIED.

“Goddamn it!”

Matt closed the lid of the laptop with a sharp

snap. “Come on,” he said, abruptly pushing to his

feet. “We need to get out of here.”

“Why?” Kiernan asked, but he stood as well.

“That Access Denied message means someone

knows I was in the system. They have IP