Just Now, page 3
“We have to be careful,” Cami said, her voice low. “I don’t want to put you in more danger, Kieran. I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to you.”
“I can take care of myself,” Kieran said, his voice firm. “And I won’t let anything happen to you either. We have to do this, Cami. For Ethan, for Jenna, for ourselves.”
Cami hesitated. Kieran was right, she needed someone else to help her, especially someone she could trust. And she could trust Kieran, she knew that. But the risk was still there, and she worried about what would happen if they got caught. This wasn’t just a case of getting into trouble. This was a case of getting dead.
“Yes, two heads are better than one,” she agreed. “But I also need to check with Liam. He was scared. He might not want to speak to anyone else. And if he clams up and won’t say anything, that’s a worst-case scenario.”
“Okay. I see that. But if he is willing to, will you keep me in the loop?”
“I will.”
They walked on, in step with each other. It was weird to feel this closeness with Kieran. He was so much the same kind of person Ethan had been. She got the impression the brothers, just two years apart in age, had shared a lot. The same sharp intelligence, the same quirky humor that she saw flashes of in both. And she could clearly see that Kieran had the same integrity and the same desire to find out the truth.
“I’ll try to set something up,” she said. She’d make sure it wasn’t traceable. She’d use the dark web. She would not let this backfire on her.
Even though Cami knew it might already have. Whoever was on the other side might even now be trying to find out who the woman was who’d run down the street with Ethan on the night he was shot, and who’d hidden away from the gunman.
That search might lead them to her.
It filled her with cold fear, but paralyzing as that feeling was, she knew she had to fight it.
They were approaching the campus buildings again. Cami tossed her coffee in the trash, and Kieran did the same.
“It was nice seeing you,” she said.
“Likewise,” he agreed. Then he added, stammering slightly, “I know this might seem—well, it might seem weird. But I’d like to—when this is over, I mean, when we have some closure—I’d like to go out for a drink with you. As friends, I mean.”
He wasn’t doing this well, and he was blushing again, Cami saw in surprise. But she was even more astounded to realize that she wanted to go for a drink with him. She wanted to see him socially. There was something about him that she instinctively felt drawn toward.
“Sure,” she said, and saw his face instantly warm.
“Good. That’s great. I’m—I’m looking forward to it.”
“Yeah, me too. But let’s get over these other hurdles first,” she warned.
“Let’s do that. Whatever I can do to help, I will. Okay?”
“Okay. Stay safe, and I’ll let you know.”
He squeezed her hand briefly. Cami squeezed his in turn.
Cami felt a mix of emotions as she walked away. She was relieved to have an ally, and she felt a deepening of her connection with Kieran. She didn’t know where this would lead, but she wasn’t going to turn away from it. At the same time, though, she was scared to involve someone else in this dangerous game. Whoever had shot Ethan hadn’t just disappeared off the face of the earth. The opposite was true. They were now going to be watchful, making their plans just as she was doing. That person, or more than one person, was still there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce. She had to be vigilant, and she had to be careful.
And then, to complicate matters, there was the unexpected spark of emotion she felt toward Kieran, which made a place in her heart, a place that had felt frozen, warm up again.
Now, how to contact Liam discreetly?
The best way would be through his smart home command console, she decided. She was pretty sure that if she chose the right way of doing this, then only he would be able to get the message.
She’d hacked into his alarm system previously. But maybe an even better way would be to simply text him a message on the console.
Cami pulled out her phone and opened the hacking app, carefully selecting the right codes to bypass Liam’s security measures. After a few moments of typing, she was inside his smart home system. It wasn’t difficult because she’d done it before. And weirdly, he hadn’t updated his passwords. Cami thought about that for a while.
Perhaps he’d left them unchanged purposely, and that meant he was open to communication with her and wasn’t locking her out. At any rate, that was what she read into it.
She navigated through the menus until she found the console, then composed a message.
“I want to meet with u. Regarding J. And E. Time, place?”
She thought that was vague enough that if anyone did see it they wouldn’t connect the dots, but that Liam would know instantly.
Taking a deep breath, Cami pressed Send.
Now the message would be visible on his command console, and she’d need to look into it again to see if he’d replied. He might take hours to do that. Days. It depended on how his alerts were set up.
She swallowed, hoping he would see it soon, knowing she was in uncharted waters here and that whoever these people were, they were playing for keeps. She was scared, too, and now she’d gotten a taste of exactly how scared Liam must be, the fear he’d been living with.
And then her phone rang again. Quickly, she took the call, seeing that it was her boss, Connor, from the FBI on the line.
Cami knew what that meant.
Another serious crime had been committed, and they needed her tech expertise on board to try to solve it.
CHAPTER THREE
“Hello, Connor,” Cami said. She did her best to sound normal. She didn’t want to alert Connor that anything was wrong in her life. Otherwise he’d ask about it, and right now, she was scared to talk.
Luckily, he sounded distracted.
“Cami. You got a free day today?” he asked. As he spoke, she visualized him in her mind. She’d perceived him at first as a resented father figure, with his strong-jawed, serious face and his short dark hair, threaded with gray. It was only after a few fireworks between them that she’d acknowledged his wisdom, that he was a valuable mentor with a wealth of experience that backed up and complemented her tech expertise.
“Yes. I’ve been studying since five this morning, so I’m up to date, and my next exam’s not until next week,” she said.
“We’ve got an issue here that I’d like your help with.”
“Sure. Gladly,” she said. “What is it?”
As she spoke, Cami felt amazed by how far she’d come. When this “arrangement” to be on call to the FBI for tech-related cases had started, she’d been filled with anger and rebellion. Her grudge toward the FBI had originated with her sister’s disappearance, when she felt they hadn’t done enough to find Jenna. Being forced to help with tech-related cases for a year, as an alternative to a jail term for hacking their site, hadn’t made her like them any better.
Now, with a few cases behind her, Cami was realizing what it took in terms of bravery, know-how, and sheer determination to catch people who were truly evil and had their own terrible agendas. Ethan had been the first person to change her mind about the FBI, when she’d realized how focused he was on his job, how supportive he was of his team, how determined he was to catch the bad guys.
And she’d grown to admire Connor. He was one of the toughest, most ethical people she knew. Tech wasn’t his strong point, but people were, and she’d picked up a lot of wisdom on that front when watching him interact.
Now, she felt eager to help where she could, hoping that her input could help Connor and his team defeat this latest threat.
“We’ve had two women who have been found, strangled, and dumped in different parts of Boston,” Connor said, and she could hear the regret in his voice. “The first body was found two days ago, the second, late last night. Police suspect it’s a serial because the MO is so similar, but there’s no obvious connection between the women. So we’re looking to technology to give us a lead on that, and see if there’s anything to be found,” he explained.
Cami listened intently, her mind already whirring with ideas on how she could help.
“What’s the first step?” she asked, eager to get started. “Do you have any of their devices?”
“We’ve got both the victims’ phones. Their phones and personal items were on them, although the phones were turned off, and they’ve been taken into evidence. Both are at the local police stations where the crimes were called in, but we’re organizing for the first phone to be transferred to the second police station in central Boston. So, if you’re ready, I can pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll be ready,” Cami said.
*
Fifteen minutes later to the minute, Cami saw the plain gray Ford that Connor was using as his unmarked speed around the corner in the direction of the university entrance. She rushed to the car as it pulled up and jumped inside.
“Thanks for coming on board with this, Cami,” Connor said as he hit the gas, pulling away from the curb. “With a potential serial case, you know how important it is to get onto it fast. It’s a very troubling set of circumstances, and the two victims are very different. No clear links between them.”
Cami nodded. “I hope I can find something,” she said.
At the start of a case, she couldn’t help feeling intimidated by the sheer amount of information they needed to find. It was like staring at a blank computer screen that needed to be filled with specialized coding before the program could run. That was what she compared it to in her mind. At the same time, she was proud of being so valued by Connor. Her hacking ability could sometimes provide the key to solving cases that might otherwise remain unsolved. And she could usually get information far quicker, and also more of it, than the FBI could otherwise get. The fact she sometimes did so through “alternative” channels was her strength.
As they neared the first police station, weaving through the heavy morning traffic, Connor briefed her on the details they had so far.
“The most recent victim is an estate lawyer named Kate Minnett, age thirty-three. She lived alone in a quiet residential suburb west of downtown. Low crime area, wealthy residents, and as you can imagine, this is causing a major outcry.”
“What’s the timeline on that?” Cami asked.
“She left the office on Wednesday evening at about five p.m. Her home’s half an hour away from the office. Then she didn’t respond to a call from her boss at six p.m., her phone was off, and she wasn’t in the office yesterday. So that narrows the timeline down as to when she was taken. She had said she’d keep her phone on.”
“Okay,” Cami said, taking this in as Connor continued.
“Two of the law firm’s partners went around yesterday evening to check she was okay. Her house was unlocked, her laptop bag was inside the front door, and she was gone. Her body was found in a dumpster late last night.” Connor paused, then added in a heavy voice, “The police interviewed her work colleagues yesterday evening, and everyone’s horrified. She was well liked, there was no motive for the crime, she hadn’t complained of anything unusual. And of course, they then linked it to the other crime, which took place a couple of days earlier and on the other side of the city.”
“And details on the other?” Cami asked, feeling a chill of horror at the circumstances. Nobody should be able to get away with doing that. Not even once, never mind twice. And if she could stop the tragedy from occurring again, then she’d do whatever it took.
“The other victim was a younger woman, age twenty-three, who lived in a small apartment in a new housing estate a few miles from the city center. She worked at a local beauty salon doing nails. Her name’s Gracie Foster. She disappeared sometime over the weekend, although the timeline’s not clear. She worked Saturday morning at the salon, and was then supposed to be in again on Monday. She wasn’t, and her body was found early Tuesday morning. Also in a dumpster, and probably placed there during the night.”
“Any problems in her life, any boyfriend issues?” Cami knew from experience that those were important and could be an initial lead.
“No. Both these women lived alone, with no romantic ties, no close family nearby,” Connor said.
“Any sign of forced entry?” she asked, wondering if the victims had lived in smart homes, and if that was how the killer had gotten access.
“There are possible signs. Gracie’s kitchen door latch was loose, and it could have been forced and then roughly repaired. There was a window in Kate’s living room with some marks on the frame that also looked as if it might have been pried open and then closed again. So, yes. Someone could have gotten in through the weak points of both homes and waited inside.”
Not smart homes. The opposite. But a smart killer, for sure, who’d taken advantage of gaps in the defenses, Cami knew.
Connor peeled off the stop-start traffic on the main road, powering down a side street that quickly led to the police station. He climbed out, and Cami grabbed her laptop bag and followed him.
He headed inside.
“Agent Connor, FBI, and Cami Lark, tech expert,” he introduced them. “It’s regarding the double murder. I believe both the victims’ phones are available here?”
The officer glanced at a checklist. “Yes, Agent. The second phone arrived half an hour ago. The laptop for Kate Minnett is also in evidence if you want it. We’re short on space, but there’s a mini office just outside the evidence room that you can use. I’ll get the phones signed out and available for you.”
Already, Cami was priming herself in her mind, making a mental checklist of the programs she might need to access the phones. She followed Connor through the labyrinth of corridors, to the back office that adjoined the locked steel door of the evidence room.
They went inside the tiny office, which barely had space for a desk and two chairs. But at least it was warm and cozy and it had a couple of plug points.
As she waited, Cami heard the regular clanging of the steel door and the beeping of a keypad as authorized people accessed the evidence room in this busy police station.
“Here are the phones and the laptop.” The officer brought them in, and Cami set them up, getting them on chargers and taking a look at both phones. One Android, one iPhone. One old, one brand new. One had certain security features she knew her program could bypass in an hour, and the other had a manufacturing flaw that her online hacking group had found out about. The laptop was a MacBook Pro.
“I can get into both phones, hopefully, as well as the laptop. Maybe in an hour,” she said, setting up her program to run, plugging the devices in so that they each connected with one of hers.
While the program ran, Cami got onto social media to learn more about Kate Minnett and Gracie Foster. She wanted to get an idea of the personalities, interactions, issues, and connections that they displayed to the world—or at least, to their friends.
And while she was doing that, she listened to Connor’s voice as he took a call with the coroner.
“Strangulation the cause of death in both cases?” he asked, jotting notes on an old-fashioned paper notepad that she knew was how he preferred to work. “And any DNA?”
He waited and jotted some more, muttering the details to himself. “Both moved after death. How long after? A couple of hours. Okay. And signs of a struggle?”
The pen scribbled inexorably over the paper. “In both cases, yes. Defensive wounds. And torn nails, bruises.” He paused. “Reckon they were locked away somewhere?” He paused and listened again.
It was horrific to have to imagine what these victims had endured, but Cami was only hearing it with part of her mind. The rest was taking note of the women’s social interactions, which she was researching while waiting for her hacking program to run. Neither of them had a very public or visible online profile, and Kate’s profile seemed to be purely focused on business. Neither one lived their life on social media, with every action publicly announced. Both were fairly private. Neither could have been stalked based on their online interactions.
That ruled out a few of the most obvious conclusions, straight up. So, what else could she find?
At that moment, Cami’s computer beeped.
She’d gotten into Kate’s phone faster than she’d thought. That manufacturer’s flaw that her hacking group had detected was easy to bypass. That meant she could get into the laptop more easily, too. Another few moments, and she had access to that.
“I’m in Kate’s devices,” she said. And then the other phone beeped, too. “I’m in both.”
Now totally focused on her job, and shutting out Connor’s conversation completely, Cami began hunting, seeking out the contacts and the messages, setting new searches to run, looking for any connections that these two women might have had in common. That was the first and most important lead, a person in common. A friend, an ex-boyfriend, a work colleague, an insurance salesman—she’d learned that a killer could hide in any guise.
She scanned the list with narrowed eyes, looking carefully, double-checking herself as her programs sped along in the background. There were many more contacts in Kate’s phone. She had a massive network of work colleagues, but also a large number of private friends. Gracie had far fewer.
Almost immediately, Cami ruled out the laptop. It had been used purely for work. It was a few months old and there wasn’t a single social message or email on it. This was simply for recording progress on cases and networking with colleagues about work-related issues. Cami got the impression that Kate was a very disciplined woman. If there was another side to her personality or her interactions, it would have to be found on the phone.
A quick look at the phones showed her what she was sure the police had already checked. No trouble, no fights, no angry messages, no breakups. No obvious signs that the women were in trouble with anyone, or that anything was amiss in their lives. Kate had sent work texts earlier in the day. Gracie had made vague plans to meet up with a group of friends she seemed to see monthly.
_preview.jpg)
