“How long have you two known each other?” Steeves said.
“Since grade school. We both grew up in Worcester. He’s never been in any kind of trouble.”
“And you’ve been buddies all that time?”
“Not really. Just since high school.”
“You’re friends outside of work, right?”
Tim raised his hands off the table in a mini-shrug. “We ride our bikes a few times a week, you know, for exercise. Other than that, just the usual stuff, going out to the clubs on the weekend, that sort of thing.”
“You guys must talk about the bank all the time, both of you working there and all.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Has Rob ever mentioned any problems he might have had with the bank?”
Tim gave the agent a suspicious look.
“You mean do I know any reasons why Rob might want to hurt the bank?”
“Something like that.”
“I don’t think Rob would ever do anything like that. He’s just not that kind of guy. You ask anyone who knows him. I mean, yeah, he gets frustrated at work like anyone else but that doesn’t make him a terrorist.”
“Tell me about this frustration.”
“It’s nothing, you know, just normal work stuff.”
“Like what?”
Tim glared at Steeves with defiance until he felt it was long enough to seem like a protective friend.
“Rob’s an ambitious guy, is all,” Tim said. “Sometimes he complains about being held back, not getting the kind of work he’s capable of doing.”
Hanley looked up from writing in his notepad. “You and Rob are both programmers, right?”
Tim nodded.
“And Rob wants to move up the ladder,” Hanley said.
“It’s no big deal. Lots of people gripe about their jobs. It doesn’t mean they’re going to go postal.”
“Is there anything else he ever complains about?” Steeves asked.
“Not really, no.”
Steeves nodded. Tim felt his insides relax, if only a tiny bit. Then Steeves said, “Where were you Monday evening around seven-thirty?”
Tim suddenly felt dizzy. He had been in Rob’s apartment at that time.
They knew.
Time seemed to slow down. A rush of images flashed through Tim’s mind — cells and bars, knife fights and prison rapes.
Tim swallowed hard. He could handle this. Just stick to the prepared script.
“Monday?” he said. “Let me think. This week has been such a blur.”
He pretended to think, and then said, “Yeah, that’s the night we got called back into the bank. I was at work until probably seven or so. When I got home my father told me the bank had called.”
Tim turned and called through the doorway into the living room. “Hey Dad, you remember what time I got home Monday night?”
“How should I know?” Eldon said.
Tim gave the agents an apologetic shrug.
“Can anyone confirm what time you left the office?” Steeves asked.
Tim really did have to stop and think about that one.
“As far as I can remember,” he said, “the office was pretty much deserted by the time I packed it in.”
Tim didn’t like the look the two agents exchanged.
“Okay, that’s all we have for now,” Steeves said. He handed Tim a business card. “Give us a call if you think of anything else.”
“Sure.”
After a round of thanks and handshakes, the agents left. Tim re-attached the security chain, put his forehead against the inside of the door and leaned there for a few moments with his eyes closed, trying to calm down.
He had no idea if they believed him.
Lesley seemed like a lost soul to Rob as she looked back at him through the glass.
“Don’t look so sad,” he said.
She gave a nervous laugh.
“How am I supposed to do that?”
Rob put a hand on the glass. He wanted so much to touch her, to comfort her. She held her hand up next to his for a moment, and then let it fall back into a wrestling match with her other hand.
“Hey,” he said, “this will all get straightened out, you’ll see.”
“But I don’t understand what’s going on. Uncle Stan said the FBI agents found all sorts of evidence in your apartment.”
“I know,” Rob said, “but I didn’t do it.”
“Then why is this happening?”
“Good question. I know that stuff with my fingerprints on it didn’t walk into my apartment all by itself.”
Lesley’s eyes widened in surprise. “You mean …”
“Someone put that stuff there to set me up.”
Rob felt flutters in his gut. Those words had sounded far-fetched when he said them to Steeves the night before. They sounded no better this morning.
Lesley looked at him with incredulity.
“You can’t be serious,” she said.
“It’s the only way it could have gotten there.”
Lesley had a hand over her mouth. A tear escaped down her cheek. Rob stared hard at her face, searching desperately for clues as to whether she believed him. She rummaged in her purse and found a tissue. The flash of her diamond ring caught Rob’s eye as she dabbed at her eyes.
“This whole thing sucks,” he said. “We’ve been together twice since I gave you the ring, and both times I ended up getting dragged away.”
She looked down at her hand.
“Aunt Sheila noticed it last night,” she said. “We had a good cry over it.”
Frustration washed over Rob. What could he say? He hadn’t expected to be in jail when people found out they were engaged.
They looked at each other for what seemed like a long while, neither knowing what to say to make everything all right. Lesley worked hard with the sodden tissue again, then balled it up and held it in one fist.
Finally she said, “What’s going to happen to us?”
Rob had no good answer for that one, at least none he believed, but Lesley didn’t need more doom and gloom.
“The FBI guys said they were going to keep digging,” he said, “talk to other people, stuff like that. They’ll probably figure out I didn’t do anything, you know, find out who’s really behind it and this will all get straightened out.”
Rob could read the doubt in her eyes.
“You believe me, don’t you?” he said. “You know I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Well … yeah,” she said. “Of course I do.”
Rob’s stomach clamped down into a solid ball. If she was so sure, why did she hesitate before answering?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Lesley was too distracted to notice when Leo hurtled past her feet, chasing a ping-pong ball across the living room floor.
“Is your TV on?” she said into the phone.
“I can see it,” Tim said. “Dad’s watching the noon news.”
“My station?”
“Yeah. Incredible, isn’t it?”
“That’s not the word I’d use.”
They lapsed into silence as Lesley watched her colleague, Jim Brugger, interview a young man outside the same bank branch she and Shayna had visited a couple of days before.
“As far as I’m concerned it’s the bank’s fault,” the young man on the TV said. “I don’t care if it was just one guy who worked there. Bottom line, they didn’t keep my money safe, so I’m taking my business elsewhere. And that guy they caught? I hope they put him away for a long time, send a message to anyone who thinks it’s cool to be a computer hacker. They have to realize this sort of thing costs people a lot of money.”
Lesley had seen enough. She turned off the TV.
“Yesterday I was angry when my producer pulled me off the story,” she said, “but now I’m glad. I couldn’t listen to people talking about Rob like that.”
“I still can’t wrap my head around it,” Tim said. “I mean Rob is absolutely the last guy I would have figured to do something like this.”