Cold Spite, page 21
part #1 of Cold Justice® - Most Wanted Series
Yael bit her lip. “Habit I’m afraid.”
Delilah looked away, uncomfortable with people knowing a secret that only she, Val, and her physicians had known for so many years.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” Yael assured her. “Shane will try to get it out of me later, but given the circumstances, I won’t tell him any details that don’t pertain to the investigation or aren’t his business. He’s nosey but, trust me, I know how to keep a secret.”
Delilah didn’t know what to say to that. “The fact you and Alex figured it out so quickly makes me wonder if I shouldn’t take out a full-page ad—or maybe update my dating profile”—which she never used—“Dumped. Barren. Armed. Difficult. Dubious sense of humor. Swipe right if you dare.”
Yael’s eyes narrowed in a glare. “He dumped you? What an ass. I thought he was a nice guy.”
Delilah laughed, grateful for the show of female unity. “In fairness, he didn’t know about the pregnancy. Just wanted to go off and join HRT without some long-distance relationship hanging around his neck.”
“Asshole,” Yael repeated. “Pity Laura isn’t here to commiserate. Her last guy turned out to be a serial killer, so she’d have a lot of opinions.”
Delilah wasn’t sure what to say to that.
Yael shifted uncomfortably and then winced. “Sorry. I need to get up and move. I was shot last month. Nothing serious.” She held up her hand at Delilah’s obvious concern. “But I’m still healing. Alex was shot, too, but I swear he’s a freaking cyborg he healed so quickly.”
“I remember you now from the news.” Delilah’s eyes widened as she recalled other details of the case and the background of this woman. Her brother had murdered their parents and shot up their high school. Yael had been vilified and accused of being complicit in the murders.
Yael held her gaze and nodded. “Like I said, I know how to keep a secret. Anything not pertinent to the case will never leave my mouth. You can trust both me and Alex on that.”
The woman looked uncertain as to Delilah’s reaction though. Delilah knew the media had been vicious in their attacks on Yael. Delilah could only imagine what they were going to say about her when the truth came out that she wasn’t dead.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She stood too. “I’m going to grab a coffee. Want me to get you one?”
“I’d take a tea if you don’t mind?” Yael rolled out a yoga mat and started doing a series of moves. “The office isn’t usually this quiet by the way, but no one minds me doing my physical therapy exercises.” She indicated the mat with her head. “In fact, if I forget, they remind me.” She rolled her eyes. “We’re kind of like a family—only better.” She shot Delilah a shy grin.
“So where is everyone?”
She’d seen Alex Parker briefly, but he’d been called up to DC to deal with a high-level cyber intrusion that demanded his personal attention.
“Either on assignments or up in DC for the wedding. As all of the company are wedding guests, Haley hired another firm to provide security during the ceremony and reception.”
Security?
“They are making sure the other group is up to snuff, which would be fun to watch as a fly on the wall because alpha males never like being told how to do their jobs. Plus, they have to liaise with the Secret Service as there are a lot of highflyers who may attend, including the president and various other politicians, not to mention a few random billionaires and the odd member of the royal family. Haley is pretty badass.” She eyed her then. “I think the two of you would get on actually.”
Delilah didn’t feel very badass. “I’d rather elope than endure all that fuss.”
“No kidding. If I ever get married, I’m going for a location wedding. Somewhere very remote and extremely expensive to get to.”
“Is that imminent?” Delilah was being nosey but what the hell. Yael obviously had an inquisitive streak too.
Yael looked at her from a downward dog position. “Shane has been hinting but nothing concrete yet. We haven’t been dating that long, and he’s been crazy busy.”
“But you’ll say yes?”
“If he ever actually proposes, I’ll definitely say yes. He’s bossy and infuriating and sweet and considerate. Definitely the one for me, even if he isn’t a fan of me riding a scooter to work.” Yael’s brown eyes shone with happiness, but it was quickly doused. “I’m still getting used to having someone in my life, you know? I’m more familiar with being alone, which is way easier. Getting out of my comfort zone has been a challenge. The fact he’s interested in someone like me…”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, even aside from my family history,” Yael performed a leg stretch. “I’m a geek. Used to spending my nights alone wearing sweats, munching potato chips, and surfing the dark web. I’m not exactly a social butterfly.”
That image hit a little close to home. “Finding someone can be difficult for a lot of people.”
“Not those guys, with all their manly confidence and badass tactical skills.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Delilah stirred her coffee and dumped Yael’s tea bag into a composting bin. “Demarco grew up in the foster care system after he was abandoned as a baby. I know he struggles to figure out how he fits in and uses that brooding persona as a shield.”
“Faking it until he makes it? I got news for him. He made it. HRT is a family. They love him, even if I now have my doubts as to his character.”
Delilah laughed as she carried the brimming mugs across the room. “I’m not sure he knows that. Or maybe he does now, but he didn’t used to feel that way.” Or maybe he did, and she’d somehow been duped into feeling sorry for the guy which, under the circumstances, was a stretch.
“I’m still reserving judgment,” Yael muttered.
Delilah noticed an alert pop up on one of Yael’s screens.
“Hey, you have a hit.”
Yael came back to her desk and sat in her very expensive-looking office chair.
“Facial rec. Oh,” she sounded disappointed. “It’s just the airport footage again. I watched that earlier.”
“Can we watch it together?”
“Sure.” She checked her watch. “I should be able to splice this all together now.” She hesitated. “Alex asked us to go through the prison visitor logs together to see if you recognized anyone, but we can do this first.” Yael started the video.
The images played in sequence dependent on the real time they were captured. On the monitor they watched Joseph Scanlon arrive at Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport early Tuesday morning in a cab. He wore a red ball cap, dropped off his baggage, maneuvered through security and headed to the gate.
Yael typed a few commands, and they picked him up getting off the flight in Seattle. He walked through the terminal, picked up a Coke from a vending machine, and then bought a big pink teddy bear, which he stuffed under his arm. Then he picked up his luggage, went outside, and hailed a cab.
“Lot of luggage for an overnight stay. Let’s skip straight to the hotel. I can check the taxi records later in case there were any detours.” Yael tapped a few keys, and they were outside the hotel and then inside the lobby. A few moments later, he had his keycard and was headed to the elevator.
Yael jumped onto the elevator camera, but the guy kept his head lowered and face indiscernible.
“Any cameras on the guest floors?”
“Not in the part of the hotel where his room is.” Yael squished her lips. “You really think he went from San Diego to New Orleans on Monday night then from New Orleans to Seattle on a seven-fifteen a.m. flight Tuesday morning? There is a flight back at seven p.m., which he could have theoretically made and then somehow got to Quantico early yesterday morning to plant the bomb. But we have him booked and flying on the first flight back from Seattle to NOLA Wednesday morning.” Yael tapped her fingers quickly on the desk. “His alibi for the bombing is he was literally in the air on a commercial flight at the time.”
“It’s a pretty good alibi.” Delilah exhaled an unsteady breath. “But I know he’s the culprit. It’s just figuring out the how.”
Yael replayed the sequence. Delilah stared at the footage and tried to figure out what it was that bothered her about it. Scanlon got out of the cab and walked through the hotel lobby. Glanced around as if looking for surveillance cameras and then stopped at the front desk.
“Hey, he didn’t bother showing his ID to the desk clerk.” Delilah watched him lean over the counter to talk to the person there, but he didn’t reach for his wallet.
Yael nodded slowly and replayed the moment again. “Yes. He’s showing up at the desk just so someone watching the footage would see him arrive from the airport and assume that was him checking in. Probably told the clerk he left the keycard in the room or something while he went to fetch his luggage. You think someone already checked in as him?”
“I’d bet on it, and it helps to have an identical twin brother when you want to pull off this sort of disappearing act. Can you look at the hotel footage and see if we can see the other Scanlon arriving earlier?”
Yael cracked her knuckles. “Yep. Let’s do this.”
Delilah spotted an intricate tattoo of a snake on the other woman’s inner wrist. She thought about the tattoo she and Val had got together in college.
The knowledge that her friend had died because someone had thought she was Delilah filled her with renewed remorse.
She stood. “Another drink?”
Yael shook her head. “I’m working on getting a better sleep pattern, so I’m avoiding caffeine after 11 a.m. Which sucks.” Her expression looked as if she’d eaten something sour. “I’ll take a water though.” She leaned back in her chair and tapped her short, painted nails on the desk. “This could take some time. I want to do the checks manually because some people know how to fool facial recognition software, and I’m guessing this guy might be one of them.”
“Yeah.” Delilah crossed her arms. “Something tells me good old Joe has been keeping up to date with security technologies.”
“Well, I have an idea for speeding up the process that you are not going to approve of and are therefore not allowed to see.” Yael leaned over, brought another screen to life, and clicked a few buttons. “So, in the meantime, you check out this list of prison visitors and see if any names jump out at you.”
It would have taken hours of screening footage to narrow down potential targets who could have been Joseph Scanlon checking into the hotel if they’d used traffic cams or other legally available means. Instead, Yael hacked the hotel database and discovered the first Scanlon had checked in at 11:17 a.m.
It was theoretically possible that Scanlon No. 1 could have been on the flight from New Orleans and checked in then. And super simple for Scanlon No. 2 to turn up shortly after and claim he’d forgotten his key—or some such excuse. Yael printed out the best image she had of each Scanlon brother in Seattle, and Delilah placed them side by side onto a whiteboard.
They both wore ball caps, jeans, Nike trainers, navy T-shirt, and had the distinctive bone frog tattoo on their upper left arm that was partially visible. They both had a two-inch scar next to their left eye.
“No way I could tell you which of these men is Joseph from these images,” Delilah admitted. She wasn’t sure she’d know if she stood facing them in person.
Yael regarded them thoughtfully. “We know the guy on the flight carried Joseph’s cell. Virgil’s cell sat at his mechanic’s workshop and then back to the house overnight, presumably in the father’s vehicle.”
“I’m sure his father will swear up and down Virgil was with him all day.” Delilah pointed at the images. “But we have proof they were both in Seattle.” She swore. “Except it won’t be definitive unless we can get them both in the same shot.”
Yael’s lips pinched. “Something tells me they are not going to be that sloppy when they went to so much trouble to set this up.”
“So they aren’t likely to both walk out the front door when it comes time to leave?” Delilah let the wryness shine in her voice. “Any cameras at the rear of the hotel?”
“One but the angle isn’t great. If someone knows it’s there, it’s easy to avoid it.”
“Which we presume they did.”
“Which we presume they did,” Yael agreed.
Delilah pulled up a map of the hotel. “I know you have scans running looking for Scanlon in the background of any images, but can you narrow that search down to certain streets?”
“Sure. But do we assume that it was Joseph who met his kid then came back to the hotel where he and Virgil spent the night before Virgil flew home to New Orleans the next morning pretending to be Joseph—thus providing Joseph with what appears, at first glance, a rock-solid alibi for the bombing? In which case I’d guess the real Joseph left prior to that in order to get to the east coast in time to plant the bomb at Montana’s memorial—probably Tuesday evening. Let me search for any security cams along that street, and we’ll see where that leads us.” Yael typed as she spoke, fingers blurring like the computer whiz kid she was.
Delilah felt old. And surplus to requirements.
“Any luck with the prison log?” Yael prompted.
Delilah shook her head. “I recognized a few names of SEALs and Joseph’s family as regular visitors. A famous author and a podcaster who also tried to get an interview with me on several occasions. The other names mean nothing, but if I could see the photo IDs, perhaps that would spark something.”
Yael pressed a couple of buttons and pulled up her email. “Sending now. I can get deeper background checks on anyone you want to follow up on.”
“Thanks.” Delilah wondered what Cas was doing and immediately made herself focus on the task at hand. She knew better than to get distracted by the handsome operator.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Earlier that morning, Cas had walked into Building 64 with a stupid grin on his face because he’d spent the night in bed with Delilah and had managed to not completely mess it up. He’d bumped straight into Greg Trainer, who’d narrowed his gaze thoughtfully and wiped the smile right off Cas’s mouth.
“You trained in Virginia Beach, correct?” Trainer had snapped.
“Yeah. And?”
And that’s how, three hours later, he found himself at his old stomping ground at the Joint Expeditionary Base Little Creek–Fort Story, Virginia.
He’d been coached relentlessly on the drive down by a ball-cracking agent named Makimi. For some reason known only to Trainer, the ASAC wanted Cas to take the lead on questioning. Makimi was to observe.
He walked into the interview room at the NCIS facility with Makimi one step behind him and pulled out the seat opposite Petty Officer First Class Kevin Holtz, who’d been picked up late last night on a DUI. The Feds had stepped in this morning and asked for the SEAL to be held until they could question him on suspicion of being connected to yesterday’s blast.
In a rare courtesy from one government entity to another, the request had been granted.
Holtz took one look at him and groaned. His hair stuck up in untidy tufts, and the capillaries in one of his blue eyes had burst—common in divers—giving it a sinister red haze. “What the fuck do you want?”
Holtz obviously recognized him.
Cas had probably seen Holtz around, but he couldn’t quite place where. The trial maybe? Cas had watched the TV coverage avidly in a pathetic bid to see Delilah and then howl at the moon and yearn for her like some lonesome voiceless desert wolf.
Cas sat down and placed the folder in front of him. Waited for Makimi to settle herself beside him. She was small in stature but fierce in personality. He didn’t think she liked him.
“So,” Cas began. “You know who I am.”
Holtz’s eyes narrowed realizing he’d already made a mistake. “I recognize a Fed when I see one.”
His look of distaste was worthy of a sixteen-year-old girl.
Cas introduced himself and Agent Makimi. “I hear you were out celebrating last night, Petty Officer Holtz.”
Holtz’s gaze turned assessing. “Is that a crime?”
“It is when you drive home drunk,” Cas countered.
“I had a few beers with the guys. Base is quiet, so we tied one on. I made a mistake getting into my truck to drive home. I apologized and will make any restitution the MPs feel is appropriate. It won’t happen again.”
“What were you celebrating?”
A sly grin spread over the man’s face. “Being alive. Do I need another reason?”
“No, sir. No better reason.” There was something in the SEAL’s tone that suggested he knew exactly how close to death Cas had come yesterday, and he could only know that if he was in contact with the person who’d tried to kill him.
But perhaps Cas was projecting.
A heightened sense of awareness rolled over him, that survival reflex that had saved his ass on too many occasions to count. He wasn’t in immediate danger, not unless the SEAL attacked him, but he felt like prey, and he’d been prey before. He didn’t like it.
The guy had both wrists cuffed to the metal bar in the center of the table, but Cas knew he was mentally figuring out how easy it would be to attack him or grab his gun.
Cas was not so easy to ambush. Not anymore.
He found himself relaxing. He might not be used to interrogating suspects compared to more seasoned case agents, but he was this man’s equal. He’d been a hell of a SEAL and a fucking awesome drug cartel captain. None of his people had ever dared to lie to him. The gang members hadn’t been Navy SEALs, but they’d grown up on the mean streets, fighting for survival every damned day. That honed a person to the sharpness of a stainless-steel scalpel.
Pedro’s shining eyes flashed into his mind. Some people were innocents regardless of the tattoos they sported or people they worked for.
It was an unpopular position, but he’d been in the trenches with those guys. Pedro wouldn’t have squashed a bug, let alone physically harmed anyone. Bitterness filled his heart at all the things that op had cost him.
