Firewall (22 page)

2:00 P.M. THURSDAY

Haden Rollins sits across from me in the dining room of the hotel. He’s such a pretty boy, and knows it, but he’s also clever. One of the reasons I hired him. In the past, he’s done his job, and I deposited money for him into his Tokyo account.

“It’s only a matter of time until you’re picked up,” I say. “Running scared and leaving Gated Labs wasn’t one of your better decisions.”

His jaw tightens. “When Kinsley called, I figured my days were numbered.”

“You panicked, cupcake, and now you’ll pay for it.”

He takes a drink of his dry martini. “I’m leaving the country when we’re finished and then taking a flight overseas.”

“Where?” I assume he’s driving to Mexico.

He gives me his dimpled grin and leans back in an Italian suit my money paid for. “I’ll call you.”

“So you think you’re pulling out?”

“I did my job, and now I’m wanted for questioning.”

I pat his knee like he’s six. “Your job is finished when I say so. At the press of a key, you’re implicated in stealing top-secret files from Gated Labs.”

He sends a cold smile my way. “You’re delusional and not above the law. You think I won’t give the FBI names? And if I don’t,
Special Agent Vince Bradshaw will.” He smirks. “Yes, I found out Murford hired him. Told me all about it one night when he was drunk. Said you’d done backgrounds on all the agents. Exploding the LNG lines might get sticky, and you needed inside help. You gave him the name of an agent who was in a financial mess. Bingo! Special Agent Vince Bradshaw needed money and didn’t mind giving inside information.”

“You’re an idiot. My name’s not connected with his.”

“Still, I’ve documented everything and given it to my attorney . . . in case of an emergency.”

I take a sip of my Scotch. Self-confidence is why Murford lies on a cold slab. “The reason you’re on
my
payroll is because I’m smarter than you and know how to cover my tracks.”

“I’d be a fool to stay in Houston.”

“I agree with the fool part. Stay outside the city in a cheap hotel until you find Murford’s girlfriend and the Levin kid.”

“You should have found them before you killed Murford.”

“Call it an act of passion. I want them dead.”

“I don’t do murder.”

I lean across the table and allow the cut of my blouse to entice him. He’s never seen me without the wig and dark contacts. Not that I would ever let him crawl into my bed. “You do what I say until I end it.”

Rollins stares out the window, then back at me. “I have a few ideas where they’re hiding out.”

“What’s keeping you?”

He scowls, then gestures for the waiter.

“I’ll take care of this,” I say. “I want the disposal done before tomorrow morning.”

“Things aren’t always easy.”

“But I have another job for you that’s equally important. Taryn Young needs to be eliminated. I don’t care how, but make it slow and painful.”

He pales, and I see the scared little boy in him.

“Then Kinsley Stevens. In that order.”

He stands, and I feel hatred bursting through his cells. I’ll need to make sure he’s out of the way soon.

I watch Rollins leave. In the lobby, two men in suits approach him, and I make my exit. He knows better than to implicate me, especially since he believes I had Murford killed. He’ll be detained a few hours, but Rollins knows how to play the game. Guilt by association only holds when a crime is being committed. I know about his girlfriend’s photos. Rollins should have been more on top of her business.

The nasty task of killing my nemesis needs to be over. One of my hackers secured the camera footage for his entrance into Texas. He’s here, just as I thought. My heart speeds, and the adrenaline rush that hits me each day when Wall Street opens surges through my veins.

I am a very rich and powerful woman.

2:50 P.M. THURSDAY

Taryn’s mental exhaustion plus her depletion of energy equaled depression, and she struggled to fight it. Her hopes had been built on the contents of Ethan’s encrypted file, but it only confirmed what had already been uncovered. Grayson sat beside her inhaling his burger. The smell of beef and grease churned her stomach. Or was it the impact of everything since the bombing?

Be logical. Work through this. Later you can process the tragedies and grief.

“Before I went to bed last night, I made a few notes,” she said. “Let me see if there’s a name or an event you can use.” She walked into the bedroom and spotted the notepad on the nightstand. A quick inspection told her it had no value. She opened the drapes and welcomed the afternoon sunshine. The gesture made her feel better. A glimpse outside urged her to see what the rest of the world was doing. Beautiful day
 
—sun-kissed, as her mother would say.

The senior citizens at the pool captured her attention. From the looks on their faces, flirting didn’t limit itself to the young. A much-younger woman entered the scene with a huge container of empty plastic gallon milk containers. They must all be gathered for water aerobics. Her despairing thoughts fled to what she viewed below. She laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t believe this.”

“What?” Grayson said.

She hadn’t sensed him enter the room. “Take a look at this guy. He must weigh over 280 and he’s in a Speedo.”

Grayson stood behind her, so close she could feel his breath on her neck. His laughter soon rang through the small room. “The guy’s a lady-killer. See that smile he gave the blonde?”

Mr. Speedo bent to his knees and assisted the young woman as she unloaded the plastic jugs. “A real Don Juan. Does he have any clue what he looks like?”

“Probably sees himself from thirty years ago.”

“Fifty.” She relaxed against him, not thinking, only enjoying a moment without stress. Her anger from this morning dissipated.

“When did this happen?” he whispered.

Her heart hammered. “Maybe when he moved into the complex and saw available women. Wanted to recapture his youth.”

Grayson turned her to face him and lifted her chin. “When this is over, I want us to talk. You have little reason to trust me, and after what you’ve been through, I get it. But I’m not Murford, and I want the opportunity to show you I can be a friend . . . and more.”

She didn’t know what to say or how to protest. Her feelings skyrocketed when she was near him. One minute she felt guilty and fearful, and the next she longed for all Grayson represented.

“I’d like nothing better than to kiss you right now, but I’ll wait until you tell me the time is right.”

She nodded. Would her bruised heart ever allow her to love again?

3:15 P.M. THURSDAY

Taryn popped two extra-strength Tylenol and reached for her water bottle. Clint and Patti were in separate rooms watching out the windows. Would this ever be over? She patted Buddy’s huge head resting on her knee. She appreciated his even temperament, and he seemed to sense those around her were honest people.

“Thank You,” she whispered as she smiled into the dog’s dark-brown eyes. Joe had promised to check on Bentley at the kennel. Once she found a new home and hopefully Buddy was hers, the two dogs would be like David and Goliath, but a kindly Goliath. Claire loved animals. So did Zoey.

Grayson’s words in the bedroom lingered in her mind. This time last week, she was wildly crazy about Shep. He’d penetrated her one huge weakness
 
—the need to be loved by a man who respected and valued her. The self-imposed wall around her heart had been breached. She needed to forgive herself for being duped by Murford and move forward with the past behind her.

Grayson stood for all those things good and right in life. But would she ever feel clean again for allowing herself to be preyed upon by an evil man? Thank goodness the decision didn’t need to be made today.

Claire . . .
Thinking about her friend brought a wave of emotion and a surge of prayers to keep her daughter safe. She wanted to tell Mom about Claire’s death, but not until the case was solved. Zoey must be alive, and Taryn refused to give up until she was found. When Murford had showed her a video of the little girl, she looked fine. But at three years old, Zoey could be impatient and prone to tears. How much patience would her captor have?

Zoey, please be a good girl.

Taryn focused on the computer screen. Save claimed to have moved closer to obtaining access. She’d directed him toward the virus and hoped he fell for it. His unscrupulous activities in the past demonstrated his zeal for money and not the law. She didn’t want to speculate on what the bad guys had in mind. Because she had a good idea . . . and more lives were at stake.

A knock at the door snatched Clint’s and Patti’s attention. Taryn grabbed her laptop and urged Buddy to follow her into the bedroom. The sound of casual voices relaxed her. A doctor provided by the FBI was scheduled to remove her stitches at three thirty, and she’d arrived
 
—a tiny Asian woman who looked like a model.

Taryn sat at the kitchen table while the doctor removed the bandage and sterilized the wounded area before clipping and tweezing the stitches.

“Healing nicely,” the doctor said. “And since it’s along the hairline, not much of a scar. I suggest a scar cream, one you can get at Walgreens or CVS.”

“I’m sure Grayson would pick it up for you,” Patti said with a grin.

Taryn wasn’t going there. “Or Joe.”

Once the doctor finished, she pulled a folded piece of paper from her purse and handed it to Clint. “Not sure what it means, but the guard at the complex’s entrance gave this to me. Said it was for Taryn Young from a friend. When he told the woman who delivered it that he didn’t have a resident by that name, the woman gave him the building and apartment number.” The doctor frowned. “I was told no one knew she was here.”

“You’re right. I doubt this is from another agent.” Clint took the paper and turned to Patti. “Better call this in. I don’t have a good feeling about it. They’ll want to view the security camera footage and send backup.”

Taryn pointed to it. “What does it say?” Every time she allowed herself to feel safe, another bomb exploded.

Clint opened the plain sheet of folded paper. Peeking over his shoulder, she saw the message was typed in large font and bolded.

Taryn, wherever you go, we’ll find you. Make this easy so Zoey stays alive.

We’re willing to make an exchange now. Know this: once we have confirmed access, you and Zoey are no longer assets. We suggest you act quickly. You’ll be contacted soon.

She swallowed the acid rising from her stomach. Whoever was responsible seemed to know her every move, which meant Clint
and Patti could be hurt. She glanced at the door, the thought of walking away pressing against her heart. “Why haven’t they burst through to get me?” she said.

“Risky,” Clint said. “We have agents stationed all around. HPD has their officers watching too.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. What good did she contribute to the world if she could not risk all to save a child?

3:45 P.M. THURSDAY

Grayson received the message about the need to move Taryn one more time. He was in the mood to handcuff her to a chair at the office. Were eyes watching all those entering and exiting the FBI?

“Got to pick up Taryn,” he said to Joe. “They know where she’s at. Left a note with the guard at the front of the retirement complex.”

“What did it say?”

Grayson relayed every word while they walked to the elevator. “I’m afraid she’ll try to make the swap for Zoey. Both of them would end up dead.”

“We could wire her again, and you know she’d agree.”

“When it comes to Zoey, she tosses caution to the wind. Taryn is desperate to save her.”

“It’s the mother instinct.” Joe’s words took Grayson back to his mother’s sacrifice. He wasn’t ready to have Taryn do the same thing.

Outside the building, hot September temps made it feel like they were walking into an oven.

“What you’re suggesting is too dangerous,” Grayson said. “We’ve already learned Cameron Wallace is mixed up in this. He killed Murford, and we don’t know if he’s still in the country. The thing is, Wallace is a professional assassin, not a kidnapper.”

“Not likely he’d be after her, but I’d feel better if we knew he’d left the good old US. Better yet, apprehended.” Joe turned
to him in the car. “Did you have a chance to find out any of his past employers?”

“A little. The last few years have kept him in Europe. But last summer he took out six leaders of a cartel in Venezuela, putting the largest drug lord in power. Our agents tracked him down when he arrived in the States a week ago. Facial recognition showed him coming through Reynosa. Then he disappeared.” Grayson, like many other agents, leaned toward a collaboration of homegrown and foreign terrorism, which meant who hired Wallace?

“The question is, does he have more hits on his list?”

“And who? Whoever’s in charge in New York has a big agenda,” Grayson said. “What I wouldn’t give to find the link from the software to the airport bombing.”

“When are you going to share your own conclusions?”

Grayson chuckled. “Soon. I have an idea brewing, but I hate being wrong. Agents are investigating my same thoughts, and I’m following them.”

“Try me. What do you have to lose?” Joe tilted his head and gave Grayson his full attention. “Gut instincts never failed me.”

Grayson changed lanes and toyed with his hunches. “When I get to thinking about who has the most to gain from an attempt to strike fear into the American public, lots of possibilities pop up. And we have enemies all over the world taking credit for the bombing, but the software is a side note. Especially now, since the seller is dead. When I lay that alongside what could happen if access to the software got into the wrong hands, the list narrows to a small window.”

“As in another country that wouldn’t want us exporting LNG?”

“On the West Coast it’s hard to say. On the East, it’s Russia. But they’re too smart to bomb an airport or implicate themselves.”

“Taking us on in that capacity is ridiculous.” Joe scrolled through his BlackBerry. “We’d pull aid and they’d be hurting. I know it’s a possibility, but a useless venture in my opinion. My vote goes to the Middle East teamed up with someone in New York.”

“Unless Russia hired someone to do their dirty work.”

Joe frowned. “I still think it’s the Middle East.”

“Stay with me, Joe. Who has the most to gain when oil prices go up or down?”

“Oil and gas traders. You’re looking at two separate theories. No connect.”

“Maybe.” Voicing his thoughts somehow lessened their credibility, but he wasn’t ready to let it go. “I spent most of the night
 
—what was left of it
 
—digging into other FBI investigations. If my thoughts are in left field, why are agents on that trail?”

“I’ll need more to convince me. And I promise you, I’ll look into the same research, but right now I think you’re fishing.”

“Go back to my original statement. Oil and gas traders stand to make money regardless of pricing. Most of them care only about the almighty dollar. So an unscrupulous trader sabotages the software designed to protect our infrastructure, and that person makes millions.”

“I agree a trader on the prowl makes sense. But I suggest keeping the oil trader on the front burner and ice the involvement of Russia.”

Grayson let the idea slide a notch. Joe hadn’t steered him wrong before. “Maybe you’re right. Our assignment has always been Taryn.”

“Do you have any idea how her safety was compromised?”

“Money can buy anything. I’d feel better if I had a few more puzzle pieces. Regarding the note she received, I’m afraid Zoey’s not alive. Think about a three-year-old
 
—crying, whining, hungry. Not good.” He’d not admit the same thing to Taryn.

Joe nodded. “Do you want to take the chance?”

“What do you think? Taryn would walk into the pits of hell if we asked her. I’ve expected a call from Clint or Patti that she’s walked away from FBI protection.”

“Don’t you think it makes sense for us to lead the way than have her take off on her own?”

Grayson hated it when Joe was right, but the wheels began to turn. A plan formed in his mind, a way to stage Taryn that looked like she’d left the safety net of the FBI, beginning with bringing her back to the office. He shared his idea and Joe added a few details.

“It seems risky to me. But the advantage is we’d have her covered.”

“I can’t believe I’m suggesting it, but it beats her striking out on her own,” Grayson said. “Before we get to the retirement community, would you read the latest updates? Might change our path forward.”

Joe read from his BlackBerry. “A congressman’s aide confessed to leaking the information about Nehemiah to the media after Taryn was listed as a person of interest in the bombing. No evidence of the industry and manufacturing companies in the States being behind the problem at Gated Labs.”

“The money behind this operation is astronomical. Looks to me like several companies would need to pool funds to pull it off.” It also fed into Grayson’s thoughts about Russia, but he’d not bring it up again.

“Nothing from the bomb’s remains point to a particular source.” Joe stared out the window. “We all know the bomber would place the source elsewhere. Some sources doubt if the incident at Gated Labs is tied to the airport bombing.”

“My instinct says it is.”

“Oh, I know your theory. Whoa,” Joe said. “We picked up Haden Rollins at the Westin Oaks. Confiscated his burner phone.”

“Interesting. Hope they can crack him so we won’t have to put Taryn’s life in danger. But I’m probably dreaming.”

4:35 P.M. THURSDAY

While Taryn rode to the FBI office in the backseat of Grayson’s Mustang with Buddy beside her and Joe in the front, she listened
to Grayson’s proposal. “Yes. Wire me up. I want to get started as soon as we get to the office.”

“Are you physically up to it?” Grayson said.

Her health wouldn’t stop her. “Explain every detail again so I have it in my head.”

“We want to make this look like you’re deserting the FBI to comply with the kidnapper. We’ll set up a scene outside the office to show our mutual dissatisfaction.”

“I’m getting good at stepping out of my geek box.” She laughed while her insides whirled.

“We might be able to get a little media support if you’re wanting to go that far,” Grayson said. “I could manage a leak
 
—unofficial, of course. You’d have a rental car with a concealed tracking device. The car would have to be torn apart to find it. And you’d have a special implant for us to know where you are.”

She’d seen a few movies with those things. “As in buried beneath the skin?”

“Yes.”

She willed her headache to cease. “Is it also a recording device?”

“No. Taryn, this is a serious risk factor. We’ll be monitoring your location and closing in on the kidnapper. Your phone has the same device. In other words, we’ll have your back, but we can’t stop anyone from pulling a trigger.”

A flash of how the retirement center had been compromised caused a catch in her spirit. “How easy would it be to detect?”

“Difficult without specific equipment. And considering your two trips to the hospital, any lesions could be explained away. One more thing. I want to show you a photo of the man who killed Murford. He’s the hired assassin, a good one. We don’t believe the bad guys want you dead, but you need to be familiar with him.”

Grayson handed her his BlackBerry with a photo of the man. She studied the assassin’s square jaw, dark eyes, and heavy brows. “Name? Habits?”

“Cameron Wallace. Think chameleon. Known for his disguises.
The photo we have of him entering Reynosa shows him with black hair.”

After committing the face to memory, she returned the phone. “So it’s quite probable he changed his looks?”

“His appearance at the border could have been to throw off law enforcement.” Grayson sighed. She sensed his wariness with the plan.

The only choice was also the right choice. “I’m on board. We’re battling time because Save thinks he’s nearly there in discovering access to the software.” She hesitated. “But it will take time before he gets through the encryptions or to the point where the virus attaches to his system.”

“Clarify that for me,” Grayson said. “You’re saying he could bypass the false front?”

“Yes, at the point where it looks like he has entrance, but it contains a virus that will shut down his system. I’m not flawless, and he could be prepared, but I don’t want to take the chance. Get it arranged now, Grayson. How long will it take?”

“By the time the rental car arrives, we can put the plan in motion. Joe and I will do a quick interview with Haden, then let other agents take over there.”

“Okay, what else?”

“There’s a restaurant close to the office, and we’ll set the argument there.”

Every moment wasted ticked at Zoey’s life. “Where will you and Joe be?”

“We’ll be with the surveillance team. You’ll always be in our sights.”

The reassurance calmed her. “Thanks.”

Grayson made a call. The arrangements sounded . . . clinical, and a wisp of fear settled on her. “In place,” he said a few moments later. “We’ll rehearse the plan while waiting on the rental.”

“Is there a way to take Buddy?”

“Aw, Taryn.” Joe turned to her. “If those guys care less about human life, what’s an animal?”

The truth had a way of sending glass shards into open wounds. “You’re right. If something happens, don’t send him to the pound. Okay?”

“I’ll take Buddy myself.” Joe reached behind the seat and took her hand. “If I were thirty years younger, I’d be sweeping you off your feet. You’re my hero, little lady.”

If only she felt like one.