H. R. Harmon hugged her at the end of her emotionally draining tale. Reporters peppered her with questions. One had asked her about the police chief in East End Harbor. Hadn't she been having an affair with him, too? And wasn't he still being investigated by the police to see if he was involved?
Abby said, "I did also have an affair with Justin Westwood, the chief of police of East End Harbor. I owe him an apology because, I realize now, I was using him as a kind of psychological crutch, a way to move away from Kelley. I know the police are investigating Justin. I'm sorry he's been suspended, and I can only hope to God that he had nothing to do with Evan's murder. But after what's happened this past week, I don't think anything will ever surprise me again."
Justin tossed the paper on the floor, disgusted. Despite the fact that he seemed to officially have been cleared of everything but professional misconduct, this story-and Abby's not so subtle insinuation, leaving his culpability as an open question-wouldn't help in his investigation. It certainly wouldn't make it any easier for him to get in to see H. R. Harmon or Lincoln Berdon. Now he kicked the paper across the room and when the phone rang soon after, he didn't say hello, just barked "What?!" The person on the other end was flustered, and Justin heard a nervous voice say, "Um… Chief Westwood? This is Ben Jenkins. I hope I didn't wake you up. I'm sorry for calling so early."
"Ben," Justin said, doing his best to soften his tone, although he knew it wasn't exactly what he could claim as actually soft. "I'm sorry. What's up?"
"I got what you wanted," the teenager said.
"What?"
"The stuff you wanted me to do. I did it."
"All of it? Already?"
"Yeah. It wasn't so hard."
"You got into Ascension's system?"
"Uh-huh. It was pretty easy. They have lousy security. Hey, did that agent really mean it when she bet me a hundred bucks?"
"Yeah, she did."
"How do I collect?"
Justin shook his head, amazed. "I'll tell you what-I'll get it for you, that way she can't weasel out."
"Really?" Ben said. "Gee, thanks."
"Ben, can you get the info to me now?"
"Yeah, that's why I was calling. I just e-mailed it. I wanted to let you know it was there 'cause it sounded kind of important."
"It is."
"And I'll get my TV, right?" the kid asked.
"I'll even pay for the delivery charge," Justin told him. Then, eyeing the gadget sitting on his desk, the one he'd taken from Belinda Lambert's apartment the night before, he said, "Ben, let me ask you something. I think I've got another job for you."
"Cool," Ben said. "I can use a DVD recorder. U.S. and European capabilities."
"Name your brand."
"Wow, this is great."
"Yeah, great. Listen. I've got a BlackBerry here. It's a secretary's, but her boss had it configured so all his corporate info automatically shows up on it. Can you come here and take a look at it? I might need you to recover some information."
"Well, if she's attached to his system, I can hack it."
"How about coming over now?"
"Gee, I can't now. I gotta get goin'."
"Where you going so early?" Justin looked at his watch. It was still a few minutes before seven-thirty. "What are you even doing up so early? Shouldn't you be staying out all night and sleeping till noon?"
"I got summer school," Ben said.
"Summer school?" Justin said.
"I had to pull my grades up, you know."
"Your grades? How the hell can you get bad grades? Ben, you're a goddamn genius."
"Yeah," Ben Jenkins said, "but my grades still stink."
"How is that possible?"
"My mom says I watch too much TV. Listen, I gotta go, okay, Chief?"
"Ben… I think we're talking about you skipping summer school today."
"I don't know. My mom gets pretty pissed off about stuff like that."
"I'll talk to her. Is she awake?"
"Yeah. She never sleeps. She gets up at like five every morning."
"Let me talk to her, okay?"
Ben put his mother on the phone, and Justin explained to her what he needed her son to do. He said it was very important. And he told her he'd talk to Ben's teacher and explain everything to her, so Ben wouldn't get penalized for missing any work. The clincher was that he told her Ben wouldn't just be working with the police department, he'd be helping the FBI.
"Honest to goodness?" she asked. "The FBI?"
He swore on his life and Mrs. Jenkins agreed. She said she'd drive him over in a few minutes. Justin then spoke to Ben again, told him precisely what he wanted him to do so if he was going to need any special tools or connectors he could bring them with him.
As soon as Ben hung up, Justin went to his computer. When he went on AOL, the lead news story was: black widow admits to affairs but not murder. Justin said, "Fuck me," and then signed on to his mailbox.
Sure enough, Ben's e-mail was waiting for him. He opened it, briefly scanned the info on the screen, then printed it. Two copies. He started to dial Reggie on his cell phone as he waited for the pages to print, but before he could finish dialing, there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, Reggie was standing on his doorstep. She was holding a newspaper, but as she peered inside his living room, she saw his papers scattered on the floor.
"I see you're already up on your current events," she said.
He told her to shut up and come in.
28
Reggie's mouth was open wide as she studied the info that Justin had printed. She stared over at Ben, who had arrived a few minutes after she had, and was busy clacking away at the keyboard of Justin's computer.
"You are a genius," she said.
"You owe him a hundred bucks," Justin told her, "and me fifty."
"You mind if I wait till payday?" she asked Ben.
"When is that?" Ben asked.
"Friday," she said.
The teenager looked at Justin, who nodded.
"Should be all right," Justin said. "But if you want, I'll pay you and she can pay me back. With interest."
"Nah," Ben said. "That's okay. I can wait." And he went back to searching through Belinda Lambert's BlackBerry, which he'd hooked up to Justin's computer.
"This is unbelievable," Reggie said quietly. "He got us everything we need."
"So let me get your take."
"Why don't we go through it separately? So we get separate takes. Then we can merge what we each come up with."
Justin agreed and they spent the hour or so-Justin on the couch, Reggie with one leg tucked under her as she nestled in the easy chair, as Ben worked, silently engrossed, sitting at Justin's desk-trying to organize the new mass of information. When they were done, they compared their lists and the connections they'd come up with. They winnowed out anything they both agreed was irrelevant-companies that didn't seem to have any possible connection to the investigation, names that popped up that also were removed from any personal or business dealings that might connect to the murders-but if one disagreed, the information stayed in. Then they merged everything they had onto a master list.
Justin turned to Ben. "How much longer you gonna be?" he asked.
"I'm done. I was just kinda listenin' to you guys. That's how you work, huh? Pretty cool."