Current Affairs (Tiara Investigations Mysteries) (18 page)

“Yeah.”

“I’ve put up with a lot to get my wrinkles. I figure I earned them fair and square so I’m keeping them.” Victoria was waiting for a clear shot.

“We need to know who that is.” I was trying to find an appropriate place for my candy wrapper. “Let’s go.”
 

“What about the Savannah Westmoreland case?” Victoria hadn’t made a move to get out of the car.

“There is no Savannah Westmoreland. Someone wanted us to come here and see what we saw.” This was said as I opened the car door.

They followed me across the parking lot to the courtyard. The mall was hosting a Salute to Disco. Note to file: never, ever wear a white pant suit to a Salute to Disco.
Ever.
Before I knew what was happening, the crowd starting dancing around us.
Tara, of course, starting dancing.
Victoria and I froze.

“Just tell me, do they still do The Bump?” I didn’t know what to do since I don’t know how to dance. At one time I did, or I thought I did, but since my husband doesn’t dance, I’ve lost my moves. If lip-syncing was invented for people who can’t sing, why won’t someone invent leg-syncing for people who can’t dance? I was just wondering. I started moving in time to the music. Front kick, back kick stance, back kick, front leg turning kick. The beat to the Bee Gees song was slow, so it wasn’t hard to do. Tara and Victoria looked at me and immediately recognized my dancing for what it
was,
the moves on the kickboxing video. They looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. What the hell. They joined me, and we were quite the hit.

“How deep is your love?”
came from the large speakers on the edges of the courtyard.

Tara leaned in to us, “If we’re talking about that waiter, pretty darn deep.”

We were doing the same steps, but Vic did them better. “Thanks. Now I’ll never be able to listen to that song again without …”

Unfortunately, just then Kelly turned to see why the crowd was clapping and singing. She pulled her companion’s arm, and they both took off running through the courtyard and through a side door of the mall.

“Where does that lead?” I pushed through the circle of people and ran.

“Nordstrom’s loading dock,” was Tara’s answer.

“Remind me to ask how you know that.” Victoria had caught up, and we three were running side by side.

 
We stopped in our tracks. We found ourselves in the dark, literally and figuratively. “How are we going to find them now?”

“
Shhh
.”
I’d heard a rustle and needed to figure out where it was coming from. I headed off to my right, Tara and Victoria on my heels. We found the two in a corner between rows of shelves stacked with naked mannequins, letters made of Styrofoam and cans of paint.

“Kelly, why did you run?” I offered my hand to help her up. She declined.

“I didn’t want to see you; I have nothing to say to you. I can‘t believe you couldn‘t have prevented David‘s murder if you had tried harder.” Her voice was high and breathless.

“There’s only one person responsible for David’s death, and that’s the murderer.” Then I turned to her friend. “I’m Leigh,” hoping that would prompt him giving his name in return.
 
It didn’t, but Kelly gave it.

“This is my brother, Michael.” We three looked at the two of them. They looked like twins. We felt like idiots. All we could do was
apologize
and slink off.

Tara turned around, “By the way, congratulations.”

“For what?”
Michael asked her.

Kelly gave Tara a pout before turning to her brother. “I asked you to meet me because I have something to tell you.”

We didn’t need to hear this, so we headed for the nearest exit. This took us into the Nordstrom stock room. We looked around to get our bearings. Tara closed the door behind us.

 
“Kind of a chilly reception, huh?
Obviously, she’s not Savannah Westmoreland.”

“That means we still don’t know who she is. On the bright side, it’s a good thing Mr. Goody said we wouldn’t die.” I was remembering his strange comment.

“I could have done without the ‘old’ part,” Victoria added in.

“
Ooooh
,” Tara slapped her head. “Maybe he is really Savannah Westmoreland. Get it? ‘Old soldiers never die, they just fade away.’”

“That was MacArthur that said that,” I corrected her.

“Shit.”

I spotted an exit and headed that way. “Yeah, and I think that was what Truman said.”

“Well, what did he mean by it?” Victoria had taken the camera out of her pocket, I guess to power it off.

“Maybe he knows as little about history as Tara, and he knows the person that hired him was using Westmoreland as an alias.”

“So, are we going to die or not?” When Tara turned, she bumped Victoria, and the camera went skidding across the concrete floor.

I dove and stopped its slide,
then
I looked at it like I had never seen it before. “It occurs to me that we shouldn’t store photos on this camera. What if we lost
it,
or it was stolen? There’s a lot of sensitive information here.”

With that we went into our handshake, not needing to say a word. We had risen to a level of professionalism.

I saw an elevator on the far wall. “Let’s see where this takes us.” It took us to the store’s upper level. We had entered the elevator in the back, and we exited it via the front door.

Tara pointed to a sign. “Look, there’s a semi-annual shoe sale going on.” We turned to get on a passenger elevator to go to the lower level, but a small boy ran between us and got in first. His mother was trailing, and we stepped aside.

“Asher, can you press the button? Go ahead, sweetie, press this button. You can do it,” she cooed.

Asher mistakenly thought he was being cute by holding his little finger just in front of one button and then another. I reached over and pressed the button for the lower level. “We can’t spend too much time shopping, okay?”

Three pairs of shoes each later, we were walking through the mall. I had bought espadrilles like Victoria’s.

“Oh, can we stop in here? I wanted to buy one of those
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
books.” Victoria had stopped in the entrance of The Story Store. “I think they carry it.”

The three of us entered and approached a sales person. The noise was deafening. It seemed they were about to begin toddler story time. Victoria had to raise her voice to be heard, “Excuse me. Do you have …” the rest was drowned out. I headed for the door, but another sales person stopped me.

“Did you bring a little one to hear the story?”

“No.”

“What age is your child?”

“I don’t have children,” I said as the noise rose to a level not meant for the human ear. “I don’t even like children!” I shouted. Just then, as if a switch had been flipped, the entire store was quiet—or in children’s book store vernacular, quiet as a mouse. Every eye in the place was on me.

Tara took my arm. “I’ll just be taking her away now. We’re, uh, leaving.”

Victoria understandably pretended she didn’t know us, and a few minutes later she joined us in front of Starbucks, a bag from The Story Store in hand. I treated us to shaken iced teas to calm my shaken nerves.

Tara found a bench in the mall area just outside. “You know why Starbucks’ drinks cost so much? It’s so you won’t drive off with the cup on your car roof.”

“Right, it’s for our own good.” Victoria seemed to be thinking about something else, and I hoped it wasn’t the scene I had made in the book store. “I wish we had stolen more than just those two files from David’s home office. If we had some of his administrative files, we could see if there were any bills to a company in China or money transfers from a bank there.”

I was pleased as punch not to talk about the incident. “Victoria, do you want to ask Kelly if we can come back and look at them? You and she seem to have bonded.”

“After her less-than-positive reaction to seeing us just now?
Did we look bonded?”
 

Tara had downed her tea and was chewing on ice. “Remember, she doesn’t exactly know we saw the files the first time.”

“Let’s see what’s on these two disks first. This is strange, but I feel like I’m finally getting to know him.”

“Really?
Because I don’t feel I know him at all.”

“Neither do
I
,” Tara agreed with me.

“Looking through his files at home and in his office and rummaging around on his computer, I felt like I did. For instance, sometimes he spells China, CINA. That was his shorthand, and I saw it.”

I heard a buzz, and something hit my left foot. “I’m so sorry!” The young man wore khakis and a blue polo shirt with a Sharper Image insignia over the pocket. He was carrying the controller for the model sports car which had just t-boned my foot. “I’m practicing driving this thing so I can demonstrate it to customers. I had no idea it could go that fast. Are you okay?”

While he was talking, I thought about the radio signals that control those toys, similar to how Backpack UAVs work, much the same as David Taylor’s communications programs.

“Leigh?” Victoria and Tara were calling my name.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine.
Ready to go?”

We exited the mall near the courtyard. “The work Taylor was doing for the Chinese must not have gotten very far. After all he hasn’t been to China.
Shhhh
, Detective Kent.”

“Where?”
Victoria was looking around.

“There.” I was trying to point with my head, but he was dead ahead, and it looked like I was nodding or head-butting the air.

“I don’t see him,” Tara said.

“
Uhhh
, noon, I mean, twelve o’clock.”

“He’s not here now?” Tara looked back at me, honestly puzzled.

At that point I grabbed their arms and slowed them down enough for him to walk ahead far enough so I could whisper. “See? Let’s go.”

We ran around the courtyard shops and came out beside Barnes & Noble. He was crossing the street to the parking lot.

“Where’s my car?” Victoria moaned. Indeed, we were looking out at a battalion—no, make that a brigade—of SUVs.

“It’s someplace over there.” Tara pointed at a section to our left. We walked over to three silver Lexus SUVs in a row.

Victoria pressed Unlock on her key fob, and the lights on the middle car flashed. “If we had been running from
someone, that
would have been a problem.”

“
Aaah
, this happens to me all the time. Someone steals my car and leaves it somewhere else in the lot.” Tara climbed in the backseat with her package.

I threw my new possessions in with her and got in the front. “Vic, you’re the one that won’t let me have a bumper sticker. That would help. Maybe we should get matching bumper stickers, like, WE ♥ MARRIAGE.”

“Or the overly earnest, I LOVE MY WIFE. Have you seen those?” Tara asked.

 
“How about, WE ♥ DIVORCE?”
Victoria said.

Fourteen

C
ontinuation of statement by Leigh Reed.
Victoria sat down at the desk in my upstairs home office and her supernatural fingers went to work. “See, the program is linking to a webcam.”

“Whoa, that’s going to make me sick.” Tara and I had pulled up chairs behind Victoria, and she swayed. On the screen we saw a slow motion movie of a road and a few mud-walled houses. The screen was bathed in green light.

“This is a live feed. The camera is on a UAV in either Iraq or Afghanistan, and it’s around
midnight
there. The camera’s using a night vision lens.”
 
Disparate memories were flooding back: the dry riverbeds called
wadis
, rooftop gatherings, and so, so many stars. I had the feeling I needed just one more clue, and I would know what I was seeing. A man clad in a white tunic walked along the road. There was a whir in the background, and he picked up his pace. He stooped to the ground and began frantically digging. We lowered closer to him as he gingerly, almost lovingly, placed a container about the size of a cigar box in the ground. He turned and looked over his shoulder at us, and his expression changed from surprise to shock to anger, then finally to resignation or defiance, one or the other. There was an explosion, he was thrown forward and lay there, we presumed dead. It took a moment to reorient ourselves. He was lying on his side, and we saw this image sideways, and then the screen went black.

 
“I think you should exit the program.”

 
“UAVs have guns on them?” Tara’s head had jerked back with the explosion.

“Some are armed with missiles. The Predator is flown by computer from
Nellis
Air Force base outside Las Vegas. We were given a tour of the facility, actually tents, and I saw the screens. But that can’t be a Predator, unless the lens zoomed in to a high degree. I think that camera was much closer to what it was filming. Besides, David Taylor only worked on Backpack UAVs right?”

“As far as we know.”
Victoria was still clicking away on the keyboard.

 
Then something else occurred to me. “That guy was burying an IED but didn’t look up in the sky when he heard something behind him. So it wasn’t the Predator. It flies high up.”

“He was burying an IED?” Tara’s hand was trembling on the back of Vic’s chair.

“I think so. We didn’t see what was in the box, but that’s a pretty good …”

“Something’s wrong.” In one sudden move Victoria reached down and disconnected the disk from the universal port. Then she took off her glasses and studied them.

“Yeah, for one thing, we shouldn’t be seeing that. And as far as I know, Backpack UAVs aren’t armed. You have UCAVs, Unmanned Combat Aerial Vehicles, but
they
…”

“There’s something else. This is the disk I downloaded the Chinese program onto.” Victoria looked over her shoulder at Tara and then me. “Are you two thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I doubt it.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not.” Tara leaned in to face Victoria. “It may come as a surprise to you how little I know about computers and the Internet, but it doesn’t to me.”

“This is the program the Chinese have, but it opened with the American password.”

“Shit,” Tara added succinctly.

“Let’s look at the other one.” It was not a particularly creative suggestion, but it was all I had. We loaded that program. It opened, and we were viewing a different scene, still in the dark, still in the Middle East, but this time the camera was looking down into a courtyard.

“So that last UAV was destroyed?”

“I think so,” Victoria said.

“Holy shit.”
Tara was right, an upgrade was needed.

“Does this mean the Chinese government can see what American UAVs see? I mean, if they have the pass code, right?”

“The pass code was encrypted. It’s possible they could crack it. I did.”

“David Taylor was also working on software for satellites. Remember all the background information on satellites in the China files? Satellites communicate with the ground on different frequencies than Backpack UAVs. It’s not possible for one program to work on the other.” An image from the afternoon went through my mind. “The Backpack UAVs operate a lot like that remote-controlled model car at the mall.”

“What about the pages on his research into signal interference?” Tara had wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed as if she was cold. “What signals did he think were interfering with UAV communications?”

 
“I’ll work on this more at home. There are a number of hidden files on this disk. I’ll try to open them. Then I’ll know more. I do know that there was a problem with the China program, or as he calls it
CINA,
and he was running tests and documenting his analyses.”

Tara massaged Victoria’s shoulders. “You are so smart.”

Victoria patted Tara’s hands, “It’s not how smart you are,
it’s
how you’re smart.”

Then Tara said, “There’s just one thing I want to know.”

“Wait.” Victoria stopped her. “Thank you for saying that.”

“Saying what?”

“That I’m smart.”

“Well, you are.”

“I have been made to feel guilty about my intelligence and sometimes disliked. Just like I think sometimes Leigh feels guilty about being strong, even though it saved her on Monday morning and probably on Sunday, too, when she was able to handle that boat.”

I knew she was right. “Let’s agree that all there is to feel guilty about is having power and not using it.”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

“Tara, what were you about to ask?”

 
“If Backpack UAVs don’t have guns …”

“Missiles.”

“…
missiles
on them, what killed that guy?”

“Victoria, can we look at it again? Is it saved on there?”

“’
Fraid
not,
it’s
real time.”

I rubbed the back of my hand back and forth over my forehead. “There could be newer Backpack UAVs that are armed, but the operator would have lazed and then fired. We never saw that. I’m going to assume it was the IED he was trying to bury that exploded and killed him.”

“Leigh, what’s the matter?” Now Tara looked at me.

“At our meeting with The Peachtree Group this morning they said they’re expanding their business to include software for other-size UAVs.”

“We’re getting closer to that bridge, aren’t we?” Victoria was referring to the point where we would have to turn all this over to the government.

“I do believe in fear.”

Victoria patted my arm, “We are going to take care of this.”

“Yes, we will,” Tara added, “but I think we’ve all had enough of the computer for one day.”

 
She was right, and I smiled at her. “Victoria, I want to give you the digital camera program disk so you can load it onto your computer, and I’ll give you the camera, too. When you’re finished with it, pass it along to Tara.”

Then like an itch that has to be scratched, Victoria was back on the subject of the murder. “Do you really think someone from The Peachtree Group could have killed David Taylor? That Kerry Lee acts suspicious, but what do we know?”

“I’ll bet you a pretty he’s up to no good. Remember the way he was lurking around us Monday?” Tara stood and stretched.

“My aunts use ‘pretty’ to mean a toy. They all say, ‘I’ll bet you a pretty’.” I pushed my chair back to its place in the corner. “But seriously, does The Peachtree Group have any skin in the game?”

“What motive would Kerry Lee or Valentine have?” Victoria was using the correct detective terminology. “Where does this chair go?”

“We’re trying to save our company. Maybe they’re trying to save theirs.” I pushed Tara’s chair to the side of the desk.

“They were making money off him, right? That is, unless they have other engineers working on the same project,” Tara offered. “Do they?”

“Let’s go back and see.” Victoria interlaced her fingers and raised her arms over her head for a good stretch.

“I’ll call them and say we want to finalize the investment.” While I waited for his administrative assistant either to put the call through or make up something, I picked up my
Pelikan
fountain pen and started doodling on a notepad of stationery from France that had a green toile pattern. I was thinking,
so beautiful.

He did take my call, wonder of wonders. “Is this lovely Leigh?”

“
Uhhh
.
My friends and I have been going over the information from this morning. Could we stop by to see you? We have just a couple more questions.”

“Could you and I meet alone?” The delicate point bent with the pressure I had applied.

“Alone?” I said and wrote at the same time.

Tara took my pen out of my hand before I hurt myself, bobbing her head yes.

“Sure.”

“Say, the
Buckhead
Ritz-Carlton in about an hour?”

“Sure.” I hung up the phone. “There is no way I’m meeting him alone.”

“Let him think he’s meeting you alone. We’ll be in the nearest ladies room.” Victoria was doing her level best to calm me down.

“It’s a public place. Which car are we
taking
?”

“I’ll drive,” I said.

“I’ll take Abby out while you change clothes. Be sure to wear one of your good girl gone bad outfits.”

“I have to get something out of my car.” Victoria said over her shoulder on her way downstairs.

After Abby did her business Tara went to move her car so I could back out. I threw my pantsuit in a heap in the middle of my closet and pulled out a tangerine silk pencil skirt with its matching sleeveless top. I slid my feet into taupe Charles David heels. This was turning into too long a day for a headband, and I took mine off. I twisted my hair into a chignon and went downstairs.

From the garage door I stood and watched the Hummer backing down my driveway. My mind went back into that hole where I was when I saw the IED explode. I thought about un-
armoured
Humvees
and up-armored
Humvees
. I thought about my husband talking about “staying left of the boom.”

“Leigh? Leigh!” Tara called to me, and I shook my head to try to clear it. “Don’t you want to pull your car out?”

Embarrassed, I ran and jumped into my car. A few minutes later we were headed south to
Buckhead
, so named because the main intersection resembles deer antlers. Atlanta has numerous prestigious addresses, but there’s only one
Buckhead
. This area of multi-million-dollar homes is the
grande
dame of Atlanta real estate.

“Leigh, what happened back there? What were you thinking about?” Tara asked.

“I was thinking about IEDs. The percentage of US deaths they cause has gone down, but it’s still high. Now some are able to penetrate Bradley tanks.”

“It was hard for us to look at, so it must have been doubly hard for you,” Victoria said.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Let’s talk business. What do we know so far?”

“It’s time to think outside the Botox. We know someone wants us to leave this alone. Not enough to want us dead, just enough to scare us. I figure if a criminal lives to be as old as James Goody, he must be pretty good at his job. I believed him when he said if he had wanted us dead, we would be.” Tara had thought this through, and her words tumbled out.

I pulled into the HOV lane. “He claimed he didn’t kill David Taylor. That may or may not be true, but if he did, why would he not kill us, too?”

 
“I think he wanted to see if scaring us would be enough. Either way he’s the scum of the earth.” Tara’s bottom lip was trembling.