“Can I kill him after we rescue the victims?”
“That’s not funny.”
Their waiter came. Daniels ordered a Greek salad for two and the broiled seafood combo to share. Glasses of water appeared along with a basket of bread and a plate of olive oil. He dipped a piece of bread and popped it into his mouth.
“You didn’t answer me,” she said.
“It’s your show, Beth,” he said. “I’ll do whatever you want. But...” He let the sentence hang and popped another piece of bread into his mouth and chewed. “I won’t be your lapdog. I’ll share with you what my brother told me, provided you share with me. Otherwise, no deal.”
“Fair enough. Should I go first?”
“That would be a good start.”
She reached into her purse and produced a sleek black Droid, which she placed on the table between them. “This cell phone was found in the driveway of one of the Miami victims. We’re certain that it fell out of the kidnapper’s pocket before he fled the scene. The phone is encrypted, and had its microphone, camera, and other connectivity functions disabled.”
He picked up the phone and examined it. Logan’s phone had also been a black Droid, and he wondered if the two things were connected.
“The phone also contains a privacy app called KYTS, which stands for Keep Your Texts Safe,” she said. “The app looks like a calculator, and can be used to do simple equations. But it’s really a communication device. By entering a four-digit PIN and password, the user enters an encrypted vault, and can store text messages and videos.”
“Is that legal?”
“There’s nothing illegal if a person wants to keep their communications hidden. But if the phone is being altered and sold for criminal activity, then it’s illegal, and the manufacturer will be prosecuted.”
“My brother had a black Droid. Was it altered in this manner?”
“Yes. And it also had a KYTS app.”
“Did you find anything valuable on it?”
“Unfortunately, it had been scrubbed clean by the time we examined it.”
His cheeks burned. He’d been the last person to handle Logan’s cell phone. Did Beth think he’d gone and erased the information on it? She seemed to know what he was thinking, and she reached across the table and touched his wrist.
“Don’t worry, you’re not a suspect,” she said. “The KYTS app lets anyone who knows the phone’s number remotely wipe away the data, provided they have the PIN and password. We think your brother’s phone was scrubbed after he was shot last night.”
“By a member of his gang?”
“That’s our guess.”
“If the data’s been erased, what good is it to your investigation?”
“The company that made your brother’s phone, as well as the phone we found in Miami, is called Phantom Communications. This same company also developed the KYTS app. Guess where they have an office.”
“Tampa?”
“You got it. All roads lead to Tampa.”
The waiter brought their Greek salad. Beth didn’t think the scoop of potato salad was large enough considering she’d ordered a salad for two, and she made the waiter take it back. She’d done that in restaurants before, and it always amused him.
“Should I assume you’re going to raid Phantom Communications’ Tampa office, and seize their files and computers?” he asked.
“Our lawyers are drawing up a search warrant, and plan to take it to a judge tomorrow,” she said. “Our evidence is circumstantial, so we need to word the warrant correctly, otherwise the case might later get tossed.”
“Everything by the book.”
“That’s right, Jon. It’s how the FBI works.”
She tore off a piece of bread and chewed. She’d shared a valuable piece of information with him, and he needed to do the same. He’d lied earlier when he’d said he could find Dexter. The truth was, he could find people that knew where Dexter was hiding out, and with Beth’s help, would get them to cough up the information.
The waiter returned with a new Greek salad, which Beth inspected.
“Don’t send it back. I’m hungry,” he said.
She decided the salad was fine, and they both started eating.
Chapter 17
Along with being a picky eater, Daniels was hell on wheels, and the forty-five-minute trip from Tarpon Springs to the Florida Department of Law Enforcement’s Regional Operations Center in Tampa took less than half an hour. She parked in a visitor spot and killed the engine before addressing her passenger.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” she asked.
“Positive,” he said.
“Let’s go over it again, just so I’m clear.”
He’d already explained how he planned to track down Dexter, and didn’t see the need to repeat himself. “What aren’t you clear about?”
“I want to make sure we’re not breaking any laws,” she said.
“Dexter is a member of the Outlaws motorcycle gang,” he said. “When Dexter was in Raiford, he joined the Phantoms out of necessity. But he never stopped being an Outlaw. The gang’s motto is ‘Once an Outlaw, always an Outlaw.’”
“And you think the local gang in Tampa knows where he is?”
“I’m sure of it. When Dexter got released from prison and relocated to Tampa, he would have checked in with the leader of the local club.”
“What would he gain from doing that?”
“Motorcycle gangs are tribal, and hold loyalty to a high standard. Dexter would tell the head of the local club that he’s available if they needed him. That’s important to these guys. I dealt with them as a cop, and know how they behave.”
“And you think that you can persuade the leader of the local club to tell us where Dexter is hiding out. Isn’t that a bit of a stretch?”
“Not if you help me.”
She arched an eyebrow. “How does that work?”
“You grab your team, and we all go pay the local club a visit.”
“What do you plan to do, threaten them?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. But I won’t break any laws.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
The FDLE’s primary job was to assist local police when dealing with homicides, drug trafficking, and missing person cases. The Tampa office was one of seven statewide, and employed over two hundred officers, who actually seemed to enjoy their jobs. The receptionist wore a creaseless beige uniform and a shiny gold badge. She handed back their credentials with a smile.
“How may I help you?” she asked.
“We’re here to see Missy Hopkins. She’s expecting us,” Lancaster said.
“I’ll tell Special Agent Hopkins you’re here. Please make yourselves comfortable.”
They moved away from the reception area. Daniels never stopped asking questions when working a case, her brain on overdrive.
“What’s your relation to Hopkins?” she asked.
“Our paths crossed after I joined Team Adam,” he said. “Missy posted an alert on the Missing Endangered Persons Information Clearinghouse about a missing girl named Tammi. Missy had gotten a tip that Tammi was living in Fort Lauderdale with a couple who were living under assumed names.”
“What was their motive?”
“They couldn’t have a child of their own, so they stole someone else’s. The couple had been seen driving around the neighborhood in a pickup, and they abducted Tammi out of her backyard while she was in a kiddie pool. I was given the case, and I decided to play a hunch. My hunch was that Tammi was enrolled in a public school in Fort Lauderdale, and wasn’t at a private school or being homeschooled.”
“What did you base this upon?”
“Two things. The pickup was in bad shape, which meant the couple didn’t have money. That ruled out private school. They could have homeschooled Tammi, but a neighbor who spotted them said they looked like hillbillies. Parents that homeschool need to get certified by the state. This couple didn’t sound like they’d pass.”