Linus directed them around a corner to a quieter spot. Jessie brought up the screenshot of the code she’d found on her mom’s phone. “Here it is. Tell me what you think.”
Linus took the phone and studied the snippet of code. “See this?” he said immediately, pointing to a section near the end. “This comes from way up the food chain. You and me, we’re minnows. This shit’s from a great white shark. Someone who gained access to your mom’s wireless carrier. And I mean deep access.”
“So it’s not from the carrier?”
“Not a chance. They don’t need a skeleton key. That’s what we’re looking at. Whoever broke in was from outside the loop.”
“So the message might still be somewhere?”
“Possibly. Carriers keep voice messages for a couple weeks on their main servers.”
“Can you trace it?”
“Trace what? I mean, look. There’s nothing here. All he left behind was a single line of code. Whoever did this is a pro. We’re talking rocket scientist. I kid you not.”
“Smarter than you?”
“Much.”
“Maybe your friends can have a look,” suggested Garrett.
Linus frowned. “I don’t think they’d be too keen on getting into the middle of an FBI investigation.”
“At least you can show them,” said Garrett.
“Please,” said Jessie.
“Look, Jessie. I’ll be honest. I have a bad feeling about this. Those fingerprints have me spooked. Why don’t you just let it go? What’s done is done.” Linus checked his watch. “I’m sorry about your dad, but I can’t help you. It’s late. Garrett, you should take Jessie home.”
With that, Linus started up the block. Garrett put a hand on Jessie’s shoulder. “He’s right. We should go. But it’s not that late. How ’bout we grab a Coney Island dog and a limeade slush at Sonic?”
Jessie knocked Garrett’s hand away and ran. She caught up to Linus as he turned the corner. “Stop,” she said, grabbing his sleeve, yanking him to a halt.
“Hey,” protested Linus. “What the-?”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “He was telling my mom something important and I screwed it up. It’s on me.”
Linus stopped. “How did you screw up?”
Jessie dropped her eyes to the ground, then forced herself to look up, to look at Linus and own up to what she’d done. “I was unlocking my mom’s phone when my dad called. It was because of me she missed his message.”
“So?”
“Don’t you get it? I killed him. My dad was calling to ask for help, and my mom missed the call because I was trying to show off how smart I am. I killed my father.”
Linus stepped closer, his face knotted with indecision. “Give it to me,” he said, grabbing the phone out of Jessie’s hand before she could answer. “Wait here. This may take a while.”
Jessie watched him stalk up the street and turn the corner. She lowered her head, embarrassed at her outburst. Garrett took her hand. “You okay?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Actually, I’m not okay. In fact, I’m pretty much the opposite. Is that all right?”
“Sure. That’s all right.”
She looked at Garrett-tall, blond, way too handsome. He’d changed the Mumford & Sons T-shirt for a vintage Aerosmith jersey. At least that was a step in the right direction. She saw his blue eyes staring at her in a way she knew her mom would call “adoringly,” and she wondered for about the hundred thousandth time what he could possibly see in her. “You can hug me if you want,” she said, pulling him closer. “But don’t even think of kissing me.”
–
Twenty minutes later, Linus Jankowski came around the corner. One look at his face and Jessie knew he’d failed.
“You’re in trouble,” said Linus.
“You couldn’t do it,” said Jessie. “None of you?”
Linus shook his head. “There’s only one person who can do this…and that’s still a maybe.”
“Who is it?” said Jessie. “Where is he? Do you know him?”
“Not personally, but I know where he is.”
“Where?”
“DEF CON. This is the week of the conference.”
Jessie shook her head. “Him?”
“Rudeboy.”
65
Tank Potter stood over the body. He held a shotgun in his hands, smoke curling from both barrels. His face was flushed, and in the dark it shone like the devil’s. “You okay?”
Nodding, Mary pushed herself to her feet. “Is he dead?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Potter. “I’ve seen dead before. That’s it. You know him?”
“No. But he knew me. He wanted the disk.”
“What disk is that?”
Mary found the transparent sleeve a few feet away. “This one,” she said, picking it up. “I had it burned in the manager’s office. It shows Joe meeting his contact at the café. I’ve met him. The waitress said Joe called him Boots. I can’t remember his real name, but if I look at him long enough, I’m sure it’ll come to me.”
“Good news.”
Mary brushed the dust from her palms. She felt faint and queasy, and her breath was coming too fast. She stepped toward Potter and her knees buckled. The reporter moved swiftly and caught her. “He was going to kill me,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am. I believe that’s what he does.”
“Thanks for catching me,” said Mary. “And also for…well, you know.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Same thing as you. When Mason let me go after ramming his car, he couldn’t have hoisted the red flag any higher.”
“Didn’t he threaten you with prison if you continued to interfere?”
“So? I’ve lost my job, my pension, and my reputation. Going to jail can’t be any worse. You have more to lose than I do.”
“You asked me what kind of Kool-Aid Mason gave me. It was the kind about endangering national security and damaging all the hard work Joe had put in.”
“That’s their standard line. And here I was thinking you were a true believer.”
“I am,” said Mary. “Or else I wouldn’t be here.”
She looked down at the body, then swiveled her shoulders left and right, checking the landscape around them. Everywhere lurked silhouettes and shadows. It was difficult to see more than forty feet. A steady wind blew, bringing sounds of passing traffic from the highway and the eerie stillness of the plains.
“I ought to call the police.”
“That’s the right thing to do.”
Mary punched in 911 but stopped before hitting Send. “He said he knew everything about me. He said that he knew I’d be here and that we were going to the morgue earlier and that you had visited me to ask about Joe.”
“They were listening to us.”
“How?”
“My phone, for one. When I called my buddy at the ME’s office-the guy who let me take the pictures of your husband and the informant-he told me that Mason and Bennett were getting your husband ready to go. He didn’t expect them to roll out of there until two or so. Do you remember how fast they were hauling ass when we arrived? The first sedan almost ran you over.”
“What’s your point?”
“Someone told Mason we were coming.”
“Him?” Mary looked at the dead man.
“Or the people he works for.”
“Then it means…” Mary didn’t want to finish the sentence. It didn’t seem possible that there could be a connection between the killer lying at their feet and Edward Mason.
“You still want to call the police?”
“We have to.”