Read Exposed Online

Authors: Suzanne Ferrell

Exposed (30 page)

BOOK: Exposed
8.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

She took her time drying her hair and donning her jeans and a soft spring sweater. For a moment, as she was pulling on her comfortable hiking boots, she wondered how she was going to face all of Castello’s friends downstairs. They had to know they’d showered together.

God, you’re glorious.

Okay. Maybe hearing that declaration in his deep rumbles would be worth any embarrassment or teasing. He thought she was glorious.

Her glow lasted until she stepped into the kitchen. Jake, Dave, and Matt were staring out the kitchen window. Beyond them, she could see Frank pacing the length of the deck outside the back door, holding his phone to his ear.

“Who’s he talking to?” Matt asked.

“His boss,” Dave answered. “He gave him an ultimatum.”

“About what?”

“This case.”

“What about the case?” Sydney asked, just as the door opened.

“Shit,” Jake muttered.

“Sydney…” Matt said, his voice trailing off.

“Didn’t see you,” Dave added.

She ignored them and stared straight at Frank. “What ultimatum about the case did your boss give you?”

“Return to work right now and drop the case…”

She knew the rest. “Or you lose your job.”

Frank couldn’t deny what she’d concluded. It was exactly what his boss had said on the phone. Drop the case and let the police handle it, or find yourself another form of employment. It wasn’t just his boss talking. Apparently the word had come from higher up.

“I see,” Sydney said, straightening her spine. She spun on her heel and left the kitchen.

He started to go after her, but Jake laid a hand on his chest.

“Let her go. Trust me. Nothing you say now is going to change whatever it is she’s thinking.”

“She’s thinking I’m going to leave her to get killed.”

Matt coughed hard. “Excuse me, but the three of us have been married a while, and none of us ever know what our wives are thinking.”

Dave nodded, apparently in a rare moment of agreement with his younger brother. “Trust us when we tell you you’re delusional if you think you do.”

A moment later booted footsteps came back down the hall.

Sydney walked in carrying his gun, holster, and Marshal’s badge. “Here,” she said, stopping a few feet in front of him and holding his gear out for him to take. “Your boss is right.”

Without arguing, he took his holster and slipped it on. He might not know as much as the other men about women, but he knew never to leave his weapon in the hands of someone untrained and under a great deal of stress. “I’m not giving up the case.”

“You have to.” She held out the badge.

He folded his arms over his chest. “Can’t do it.”

“It really isn’t your fight.” She paused to take in the three other men in the room. “As much as I appreciate all your help and the time you’ve sacrificed, I can’t ask you to keep risking your lives for me. You all need to leave me to handle this.”

“Not going to happen.” Matt stepped beside Frank and folded his arms across his chest.

“We don’t run out on a fight.” Dave flanked Frank on the other side, arms crossed.

“This is family and you’re part of it.” Jake finished what they all were thinking, taking his place cross-armed beside Matt.

Frank just cocked his head to one side and fixed his no-way-you’re-winning-this-argument look on her.

Not backing down, Sydney pressed her lips into a thin line and continued to stare them down with her arm still holding out his badge.

Frank had to admit, that even pissed off, she sure was a glorious sight. A stubborn, but glorious sight, nonetheless.

“Hate to break up your Mexican standoff,” Doyle’s voice sounded over the household intercom, “but that little alarm we put on Sydney’s brother’s email account just binged.”

Stepping forward, Frank grabbed the badge, slipped it in his pocket. The others walked past them, heading to the command center.

Frank took Sydney’s hand in his. “We’re not leaving you, and that’s the end of it.”

She shook her head, trying to pull her hand free. “I can’t let you give up your career for me. It isn’t right.”

“Not your call.” He started down the hall, her hand firmly gripped in his. She was either coming with him, or he was dragging her along. As far as he was concerned the decision was already made. Like it or not, she just needed to come onboard.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

 

In the cool, summer morning, it was a scraggly group milling around outside the library, waiting for the doors to open. Ian hefted his backpack up higher on his shoulder. He should’ve gone back to the main library where he’d accessed the Internet yesterday, but he needed to keep his exact location hidden a little longer. So, he’d chosen this branch, only to find out when he got here that the doors opened an hour later than other libraries.

Pulling his baseball hat down lower, he scanned the area. A few cars were in the parking lot. When the minivans arrived, three families of small children had emptied out.
Story time must be today
. A beat-up, late-nineties Toyota belonged to the college-aged kid hovering near the entrance door.
Bet he’s trying to finish a resume or term paper.
Two men had walked up from the street, both appeared to be homeless. They carried backpacks similar to his. Probably vets. The faded Army jackets they wore were a dead giveaway, jackets just like the one he wore. He’d gotten his on his first trip to Afghanistan, from one of the soldiers in the unit he was shadowing.
Less likely to get your head shot off by friendly fire if you’re wearing this.
Kid had died two months later in an IAD explosion. Ian had just kept the jacket.

All in all, the group appeared benign.

Movement beyond the glass caught their attention, and everyone moved in closer as one of the staff unlocked the door. The groups split inside, the mothers and kids heading to the children’s section, the college kid to the research periodical area. Ian and the homeless-looking guys to the computers. He nodded at the middle-aged librarian who greeted him, but managed not to make eye contact. The last thing he wanted was to be remembered.

Choosing one of the computers facing the back wall and in the corner, he set his backpack in the neighboring seat—a silent signal to others that company wasn’t wanted. He probably looked as paranoid as he felt, but since Sydney’s message telling him someone had not only torched her place but blew it up, he had to assume the Congressman had some powerful friends—friends who could chase an IP address through all the places and satellites he’d routed the image and email through.

What was the saying?
It’s not paranoia if they’re truly out to get you.

Until he had the money and was safely out of town, he’d take all the extra precautions he could. That included the fake library card he pulled from the pocket of his backpack.
Sydney Peele
. He’d always considered it convenient that his parents had given his sister such a masculine-sounding name. Back in high school, it had gotten him into a few bars underage.

He slid it into the computer reader to open his account. Connecting to the Internet, he opened his email. Among the myriad junk messages, he found the reply from the Congressman’s private account. The time of the reply was last night.

A tingle of anticipation started at his toes and rushed over him. Hovering the mouse arrow over the reply, he licked his lips like a fat man at a Vegas all-you-can-eat-buffet. Finally, he clicked on it.

It will take time for me to get the money and fly to Columbus. I’d prefer an indoor drop point instead of the zoo. The Hollywood Casino off Broad Street. I must have your guarantee that all the pictures and negatives will be given to me. Are we in agreement?

Irritation slowly replaced the euphoria. Apparently, the Congressman believed he was in control. Arrogant prick. He’d been in the Casino more times than he could count. Knew it from one end to the other. There was no good escape route for him, but plenty of places for someone to sneak up and attack him. No, he’d chosen the zoo because that’s where he’d worked one summer, and knew how to get out without being seen.

Handing over all the pictures he’d taken? Well, he’d get the color ones, but not the black and whites. No. He was leaving that safely hidden with Sydney. Who knew when he might need them again?

Time to tell the Congressman who is in charge.

He typed out his ultimatum, along with instructions for the Congressman to wear a Michigan baseball hat to the drop, hit send to route the message through all the various bogus routers he’d set up to hide his IP address, then closed out the account. No need to wait for an answer. Blanton would comply. He couldn’t risk the images of him with the little intern or the intern’s dead body showing up on the internet.

Sydney’s panicked voice mail ran through his mind. The trouble with the zoo, is it was out in the open. If he approached the Congressman himself for the exchange, a sniper could take him out before he even knew what was happening. What he needed was a go-between.

Sitting back in the chair, Ian studied the two vets. One was young enough to have served recently, his survival skills more honed. The other had to be thirty years older, his body more frail. The yellow of his teeth, the scraggly beard, and rheumy eyes suggested a man looking for his next drink and something to eat. In that order.

Decision made, he picked up his bag and moved to the chair next to the older man.

“Interested in earning some money?” he said, quiet enough for only the other man to hear.

“Depends on what I have to do for it,” the guy slanted wary, narrow eyes at him.

“Let me buy you a drink and some lunch and I’ll give you the details.”

The man tried to look like he was considering the offer, but the rumble of his stomach and instinctive licking of his lips at the mention of liquor and food spoke his answer long before he nodded. Ian stood and waited for the man to close out the computer and gather his belongings.

A meal and the promise of a hundred dollars should be enough to entice the man to do the simple exchange and deliver the money to him—that is, if he survived. If not, the price was worth it to save his own skin.

 

* * * * *

 

“There’s the return email,” Doyle said. He enlarged the message so they could all read it, just as they’d all read Congressman Blanton’s reply.

You misunderstood me, Congressman. You aren’t making the decisions. I am. If you don’t want the intimate pictures of you and Annabeth Kelly along with the image of her murdered body to be blasted all over the Internet by noon tomorrow, you will meet me at the zoo. You’ll take a seat at one of the benches near the polar bear exhibit. The money will be in a duffle bag, which you will sit on the ground at your feet and you will wait for me to make contact. Be there at 10 a.m. One minute late, and I’ll send the pictures out into the world.

Sydney clenched her fists and shook her head, her arms wound tightly around herself.

“Shit. There’ll be hundreds of visitors there,” Dave said.

“Families and preschools,” Jake said. The others looked at him. He gave a shrug. “Sami went with Libby’s preschool last week.”

“How could he do this?” Sydney said, her anger matching her fear for all those people. “He knows someone is after him. I told him on the voice mail. He’s intentionally putting all those innocent people in danger.”

“I hate to say this, Sydney, but your brother is a heartless bastard,” Matt said.

Dave backhandedly hit his shoulder.

“What was that for?”

“Idiot, no one likes hearing bad things about their family members. Even if it’s true.”

Matt rubbed his arm and moved a little away from his brother. “I said I hated saying it.”

“No. Matt’s right. Ian is heartless and a bastard,” Sydney conceded. “The question is, how are we going to stop him from endangering those people? How are we going to warn them?”

“We’re not,” Castello said from beside her.

She turned to him. “We can’t let all those people get hurt. If we’re correct and Kormenski is working with or manipulating Blanton, he’ll know about the exchange and have his people there. What if they use another bomb?”

“Think about it, Syd,” Frank said. “If we empty out the park and only have our people in place, they’ll know something’s up. It will either get them to move the meet to another time, or go underground. The hit will still be out on you, since they believe you’re the blackmailer. It has to go as planned.”

“No. I won’t let other people get hurt because of me. My life isn’t worth hundreds of other people’s lives.”

“It is to me.”

She stared into his dark eyes and knew he meant exactly that.

“Why would your brother insist on the zoo?” Jake asked, breaking the spell between her and Frank. “The casino would’ve been a better choice, with all the noise. He could’ve slipped in and out fairly easily.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t he likely be recognized by some of the staff, if he was a frequent visitor when in town?” Matt asked.

“Not to mention bookies, like Bobby Two-toes,” Doyle added.

“True, but given his gambling habit, he probably knows the place like the back of his hand,” Frank said.

“He knows the zoo better,” Sydney said. Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were on her. “He worked there for the summer before his senior year. First, in the concession area, and then in grounds keeping. He visits every time he’s in town, and still has contacts with some of the staff.”

“So he’d know places to hide and yet view the area,” Jake said.

Doyle pulled up an aerial map of the zoo and surrounding area. “Probably knows how to get in and out of the park without going through the public entrance.”

“Yes. I remember him laughing with some friends once about how he and another teen got in at night after everyone else had left.” She shook her head. “They didn’t hurt any of the animals or damage the place, just drank some beers and got high. He always liked taking risks, pushing the line.”

Unlike her. She’d always been the good girl. The one who obeyed the rules, stayed out of trouble.

BOOK: Exposed
8.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Heart of the wolf by Lindsay Mckenna
A Touch of Gold by Lavene, Joyce, Jim
Shadow in Serenity by Terri Blackstock
FireDance by Viola Grace
The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter
Short Cuts by Raymond Carver
Drained by E.H. Reinhard