Distortion (Moonlighters Series) (23 page)
Cathy opened Google Earth on her phone and clicked on the satellite icon so she could see a bird’s-eye view of the houses on the street. “Bob’s house has a canal behind it. But the houses on the other side of Court Street don’t. It’s on a peninsula, and the street forms a U. The two middle rows of houses are backed up to each other, no water. If we park on the other side of the U, maybe there’s a way to see between the houses.” She tapped one of the houses lined up with 542 Court Street. The address popped up. “So there are two turns for Court Street. Take a right, go two blocks, and take the
second
Court Street turn.”
He followed her directions. As he passed the first Court Street turn, he glanced down the street and saw Miller’s car halfway down. He drove past and took the next turn, also Court Street.
“Go to 914. It looks like it’s backed up to the house directly across the street from 542.”
“Smart lady.”
“Smart
phone.”
He slowed as he got closer, glancing between houses, hoping there was no one outside at 914 and that there wouldn’t be privacy walls or shrubbery obstructing their view.
He reached the house, but it was massive and provided no visibility through to the houses behind it. He scanned the street. There was a house for sale three doors up, and the grass was a little higher than the neighbors’. Maybe it was vacant.
He pulled up to the curb. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He got out and walked up to the house like he was going to knock on the door. As he passed a front window, he looked inside. Vacant. Perfect.
He rounded the house to the backyard. He couldn’t see 542 from here, so he walked between the yards backed up to each other until he reached the house across from Bob’s property. An oak tree stood between that house and the one next to it. He stood behind the trunk and peered across.
Miller was trying to get the gate to open, but when it wouldn’t budge, he gave up and went around the wall. It was probably open at the canal. The wall looked as if it was more for privacy than protection—it probably wasn’t completely secure.
It didn’t appear that anyone was waiting in the car. Miller was alone. Michael checked to make sure there were no dog walkers or yard workers within sight, then he crossed the street, went to the opposite wall, and crept down toward the canal. When he reached the water, he looked around the wall. Miller was in the yard. He watched as Miller went to the back door of Bob’s house and tried to get in. He didn’t have a key, but he had a crowbar.
Michael stayed hidden behind the wall, watching as Miller tried to pry the door open. It was metal, and it wasn’t budging. Miller backed up and kicked, then kicked again harder.
Nothing. It was Fort Knox.
Michael took a quick look at the canal behind the house. There was a boat dock and a landing there. It looked as if there had once been a pool in the yard, but it had been filled in. The square border of the pool was still there in brick pavers, but the rest had been filled in with rocks.
Miller kicked the door hard enough to risk breaking his foot, but the door never budged. Michael heard him curse, then watched as he went to a window. The shutters were closed. He used the crowbar to pry one open.
But instead of glass, there was nothing but steel plates.
Amazing.
Miller went to each window, splintered open the shutters with his crowbar, cursing each time when the window turned out to be steel. Finally, he backed up to the rocks and looked at the roof tiles. Was he thinking about trying to beat his way in through the clay tiles and decking?
Michael peered across the canal. There were houses on the other side, probably less than 800 feet away. If Miller tried to beat his way into the roof, the neighbors across the water would notice. He doubted Miller would try it, at least right now.
As Miller went around to the other side of the house, searching for another entry point, Michael headed back to the street and crossed it. He walked at a steady pace, like a utility worker who had a reason to be there, and slipped back between the houses.
When he got to the car, Cathy was sweating. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”
“He was trying to get in,” he said. “But that place is locked tight, and apparently Miller didn’t rate a key.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Maybe he stored drugs there.”
“Is that how it works? Do they store them?”
Michael thought for a moment. “Not for long. Just until they get them distributed. They have to be delivered somewhere.”
“But why a residential area? I would think that would be too visible.”
“There was a dock out back on the canal. And a landing.”
“So you think they brought the drugs by boat?”
“That’s a common way to traffic drugs. But customs
officials often stop boats, especially if they’re coming from Colombia or the countries known for drug trafficking.”
“But if they were coming from the Bahamas?” Cathy asked.
“They’d be less likely to be checked.”
“But wouldn’t that still be risky? I mean, customs agents board a lot of these boats, looking for drugs. If they got caught, they’d lose the whole load.”
“That’s part of the business. They lose a lot of loads. But most of them probably get through.”
“No way. Bob wouldn’t want to take a chance like that, would he? If the transporters got caught, Bob would be exposed.”
“Nope,” Michael said. “Bob wouldn’t be exposed, because the transporters wouldn’t know him. They would only know where they’re delivering. They would park the boat and have somebody pick them up, and they’d be on their way. Somebody from this end would take care of receiving and storing the drugs until they could get them to the distributors. If the transporters got caught out in the Gulf, they just wouldn’t show up at the delivery point. They probably wouldn’t have anything on board to point to it. Officials would never have reason to suspect that place.”
“We’ve got to get in there.”
“Yep. I’ll call Sid again.” He pulled back onto the street and handed her his phone. “Look up Griffin Security in my contacts.”
She found the number, clicked on it. “Ringing.”
He took the phone back. “He must have landed if the phone’s not going to voice mail anymore. Maybe I can catch him.” He waited as it rang, then rang again.
“Sid Griffin.”
Michael wanted to shout. “Sid, this is Michael Hogan.”
“Michael! I was just about to call you. Just landed. I’m still on the tarmac.”
“Can we meet you at your office? It’s pretty important that we get access to this place as soon as possible.”
Sid hesitated. “What’s up with this place? Why does everybody want in so bad?”
Michael glanced at Cathy. “Everybody who?”
“I’ve gotten calls from some woman who claims she was Bob’s business partner. I forget her name.”
“Was it Amber Williams?”
“Yeah, Amber. That sounds right. Also a couple of calls from some guys who didn’t identify themselves. I let them know that unless they had a legal claim to the building, I wasn’t giving them anything. The house was empty when I wired it. It must have some important stuff in it if this many people want to get in.”
“Did you replace the windows? Board them up?”
“No, not me. I just put in the doors and the computer system. He told me not to worry about the windows, that he would take care of those. I was worried, because that’s a perfect place to break in. But he said he was going to take care of that.”
“Looks like he did. Listen, there are some things in there that are important to the functioning of this family. We need to get in there as soon as possible.”
“Okay, man. I was going to go home first, but we can meet at my office. I’ll get his wife fixed up, as long as she has the paperwork we talked about. I trust you, man, but I have to follow my own rules.”
“Right, no problem. We have what you need.”
When Michael hung up, he looked at Cathy. “Better get Juliet on the phone. Tell her she has an appointment.”
Cathy stared at him. “Is he really going to give her the code?”
“Looks like it. You got her paperwork ready?”
“I talked to her earlier. She has the marriage license and death certificate, and a copy of Bob’s Revocable Trust, which is his will, naming her as his beneficiary.”
“All right. Soon as we get the codes, we’ll go in. I can’t wait to see what’s behind those doors.”
S
id Griffin wore jeans, a pullover golf shirt, and tennis shoes. He met them at the door of his security company, shook hands with Michael and gave him a quick bro hug, then walked them down the hall to his office.
It wasn’t what Juliet would’ve expected. She’d been picturing the kind of office you’d find in the police department or the FBI, not this no-frills room with papers piled high on the desk and no pictures. Five computer monitors were lined up on the wall. Sid dragged in some folding chairs from another room, lined them up in front of his desk, then plopped down in his own chair and crossed his feet on the desk.
“So you guys need access to the Court Street property.”
“Right,” Juliet said, sitting too straight.
Cathy handed him the death certificate. “Her husband died several days ago.”
“Yeah, I saw it on the news. I’m really sorry.”
Juliet just nodded.
“So the woman who came the day after his murder was pretty convincing. At first I thought she was his wife, but she couldn’t produce any documentation. She finally confessed that she was his business partner. Tried to bribe me, but I don’t take bribes. Can I see your marriage license?”
Juliet slid it across the desktop, then stacked her other papers in front of him. “Here’s a copy of Bob’s Revocable Trust, listing me as the trustee and beneficiary of his estate. The Court Street property isn’t mentioned specifically, but there is a clause that I inherit all of his property, whether it’s listed or not. And here’s my driver’s license.”
Sid scanned the documents. “Let me just get you to fill out a few forms and then I’ll print out a list of the codes for you. I’ll have to get your fingerprints and scan your retina, then program those into the computer. Then you’ll be able to open the doors.” He turned back to Michael. “We set it up like we do for classified areas on military bases. Pretty high-tech. There’s a series of security cameras around the premises, and the doors won’t open even with the codes unless Juliet puts her fingerprint on the pad and lets the system scan her eye. The interior and exterior can both be monitored.”
“By who?” Juliet asked.
“Not by any of our monitoring companies. The feed went to Bob’s computer hard drive.”
“Was he the only one who got it?” Michael asked.
“Yep. That’s how he wanted it.”
“Which computer?” Juliet asked. “The laptop at home, or the one at his clinic?”
“I programmed it myself on his laptop. I think Bob was probably monitoring it pretty regularly. We also had a series of
alarm systems set to go off if anyone made it past a certain point. Again, all those alarms went to Bob instead of the police.”
Juliet couldn’t help asking what had been plaguing her. “Did he tell you why he wanted all this security? And why he wanted the monitoring and the alarms going directly to him, rather than to you or a monitoring company, or to the police?”
Sid shrugged. “It’s none of my business. The house was empty when I did the installation. But it seems like he mentioned something about storing high-priced medical equipment there. Sounded weird, since it was a house in a residential neighborhood, but I didn’t question it.”
He typed a few things on the computer, then had Juliet press her thumbprint on a pad. He followed that with the retina scan. He made sure the computer would take it, pressed the start button, and the printer began humming. “So you guys better be careful if there’s something valuable in there that other people want. If I were going in there, I’d probably make sure I was armed or had a police escort.”
“We’ll be careful,” Juliet said.
Sid pulled the paper out of the printer and handed it to Juliet. “There you go. Tell me, are you going to be renewing the security contract? It’s paid for until the end of the year. We would have renewed it automatically, but if you’re not going to be needing it anymore . . .”
Juliet looked at Michael. “I don’t know. I need a few days to think about it.”
“All right. Normally when someone dies, we start over from scratch with a new contract. If these people are so gung ho about trying to get in, it’s better not to let it lapse.”
Juliet felt a sense of relief as they walked out and got back into her van. “Well, that was easy,” she said. “What now?”
“Let’s go back to the house,” Michael said. “Let’s check it out and see what we have in there.”
“But shouldn’t we call the FBI agents first? We could have them meet us there.”
“If we do that,” Cathy said, “we might never be able to get in. I want to see what’s there. After we’ve had a look, we can call them.”
Juliet thought that over. She feared going in there, but if the FBI kept her out, she wouldn’t be able to sleep, wondering what her husband had hidden there. “All right,” she said finally, “but as soon as we’ve seen it, we call them.”
“Deal,” Michael said. “Whatever’s there, we don’t touch anything. And after it’s over, I’ll go look at my copy of Bob’s hard drive. Now that I know the video went to his computer, maybe I can see some of the stored footage there. See who went into that place.”
“Where will we meet?” Cathy asked.
“Let’s leave your car and Juliet’s car here and you two ride with me. We’ll park away from the property and walk to the house.”
Juliet got into the backseat of Michael’s Caprice. She dreaded what she would find in that house, but whatever it was could change everything. Maybe it would help the FBI crack the case and arrest everyone involved.
She prayed it would soon be over.
J
uliet felt a slow nausea rising in her chest as Michael parked the Caprice. Cathy followed the two of them as they walked like neighbors toward the house with the privacy walls. Sweat beads sprang to Juliet’s temples as they cut across the lawn and around the wall to the canal, where they could slip into the backyard.
