Listen (21 page)

Frank wiggled awake with a startle.

“You were asleep,” Grayson said, leaning against the doorway. “I know it’s been a rough twenty-four hours.”

“Sorry,” Frank said, rubbing his eyes and then adjusting the paperwork on his desk. He must’ve dozed off while filling out the police report. One side of his face felt wet.

“How’s it coming?” Grayson asked.

“Good. We’ll have plenty for the DA.”

Grayson stepped farther into the room, shutting the door. “Gavin came to talk to me this morning. Requested to be assigned to a different training officer.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Said you talk down to him, won’t answer his questions, and dump him off somewhere for an hour while you disappear.”

“I get it. It’s okay—”

Grayson smiled. “Are you kidding me? The kid needs to suck it up. I told him if he can handle you, the criminals won’t be a problem.”

Frank laughed. Finally they were on the same page.

“But,” Grayson said, “I do want you to follow up on an idea Gavin had. About the cell phone being used as a spy device.”

Frank sighed. “Okay. Sure. I’ll go this afternoon.”

“Finish that up and take a couple hours to rest first, all right? We’ve got to stay on top of this Web site deal. We’ve had double the number of calls this morning. People are losing their minds.”

Frank nodded. Yeah, he kind of predicted that. Grayson left, and Frank started back on the paperwork but couldn’t continue. He threw down the pen. Trying to concentrate was useless. Maybe he needed more coffee.

No.

It wasn’t coffee.

Frank sighed heavily, twirling his pen through his fingers. The sounds of the police station echoed down the hall.

What nobody knew was that Frank already suspected someone of the Web site fiasco and was pretty close to proving it.

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

21

Kay rose from the computer, straining to see clearly for a moment. She rubbed her eyes and stretched. How long had she been sitting here, reading all that?

She checked on Jenna. Still watching TV. She climbed the stairs, deciding laundry was calling her name. She grabbed the basket in the hallway and went to her bedroom, intending on hanging the clean clothes. But something caught her eye in the far corner. She set the basket down and walked toward the freestanding mirror.

The bedroom lights dazzled in the background of the long mirror and the reflection it held. She was thinking of changing into something a little nicer than sweats. She didn’t want to feel grungy.

Except as she stood there, it wasn’t the outside that was bothering her. It was something deep, internal, voiceless.

Kay covered her mouth, trying not to acknowledge it, trying to hold back the tears. But there it was, right in front of her. Not what she wore. Or how her hair looked. But something nobody else could see.

Why was it rearing its ugly head now? Why wouldn’t it go away?

Kay was unable to look at herself. A deep, heavy cry was unwillingly forced out. It was maddening too, and she slammed her hand against the mirror. It tipped backward and crashed into the wall.

“Mom?”

Kay gasped, scrambling to pick up the heavy mirror. “Jenna?”

“What are you doing?”

Kay swiped at her face. “Nothing . . . I just . . .” How could she hide this? Gauging Jenna’s expression, she’d been standing there long enough. She opened her mouth, intending to falsely confess this was about Gabby. But as she stared into her daughter’s eyes, she knew that wouldn’t do. It wasn’t fair. To anybody.

Kay sat on the edge of her bed and motioned for Jenna to join her. Her daughter sat next to her, crossing and recrossing her legs. Stale air and awkward silence wedged between them, but Kay wasn’t going to be deterred.

“I want to tell you something. About myself. I was about your age, in high school like you and all that. But I wanted to fit in better. I had a few friends, but not the kind that I felt I wanted. So I went against my parents’ rules and started dressing . . . loose.”

“Loose? You mean, like, baggy clothes?”

Kay smiled a little. “No. Actually really tight clothes. Low cut. Supershort shorts. Miniskirts galore. I’d sneak them out of the house under other clothes, then change at school. And you know what? It worked. I was noticed.”

Kay’s shaky hands stroked the silky comforter on the bed. “One day I was coming out of chemistry. I rounded the corner, and there was spray paint all over my locker.” She paused, but not even a deep breath could stop the tears from rolling. She looked away from Jenna. She didn’t want to see her face when she told the next part. “Spray-painted all over my locker were the words
slut
and
whore
.”

Kay finally glanced over, afraid of the shame her daughter would feel toward her. But instead, to Kay’s surprise, the hard and steady glare that had disappeared overnight had returned. Jenna’s eyes sank underneath her furrowed brows as if they were backing slowly into a deep and dark cave.

Kay quickly added, “I’m just telling you this because it was so painful. It was the worst day of my life. Still is. I’ll never get over standing there staring at those words.” She reached for her daughter’s hand, but Jenna pulled away. Jumped to her feet as if something had grabbed her underneath the bed. “Jenna? What?”

Jenna didn’t look her in the eye. “Nothing. I get it, okay? It’s a long-winded way of saying it, but I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Please. Don’t sit there and act like that was an innocent little story you wanted to tell to get off your chest.”

Kay swiped at more tears that began to fall. “You’re right. But, honey, a mother’s hope is that she can prevent her children from making the—”

“Same mistake. Yeah, I get it. Except I don’t have to have my mistake painted across a locker. I’ve got you writing it all over me every day, don’t I?” Jenna turned and rushed out of the room.

Kay fell backward on the bed, too exhausted and emotional to do anything but lie there and stare at the ceiling.

So they were now back to square one. Thanks to Kay opening her big mouth. She knew there was a reason she had kept it secret all these years. She curled into a little ball and willed herself to sleep.

***

There was a disproportionate number of cell phone stores to the number of residents in Marlo, but Frank decided on the popular one that offered rollover minutes, free phones, unlimited texting, and every other useless but endlessly fun thing on the planet.

He tried to stop smiling to himself, but he couldn’t help reveling in Squirmy over there in the passenger’s seat. He’d driven through Starbucks in silence, letting the kid believe whatever he wanted to about Frank’s mood. He didn’t help matters when he refused to let Gavin order.

Frank glanced over while taking a sip of coffee.

As if he had superpowered peripheral vision, Gavin turned and offered a tentative smile.

“So,” Frank said, lowering his voice to sound the slightest bit irritated, “you don’t like working with me.” He had to sip more coffee to keep from smiling.

Sweat burst onto Gavin’s forehead. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s not personal; it’s really not. You’re a great cop, the way you found that girl and everything last night. I have the utmost respect for you in every way. But sometimes personalities clash and that can’t be helped—”

“What’s wrong with my personality?” Good grief, he was having so much fun.

“No, no. Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with you. I mean, not you. Your personality. And you. There’s nothing wrong at all.” The kid looked like he was about to hyperventilate.

“Calm down. Let me let you in on a little secret: don’t be a tattletale. You learned that in kindergarten, right? Guess what. It applies to the police force too. I’d risk my life trying to save you. Right here, right now. And you’re going to go in and complain that I’m not easy to work with? Doesn’t bode well, my friend.” Frank was pretty sure he’d already discussed this before, but maybe it didn’t stick.

“I wasn’t . . . I wasn’t tattling. I didn’t say anything bad about you. I just felt like I could possibly learn a little more from someone who wanted a rookie.”

“Nobody wants a rookie, Rookie. I’m glad you’re eager to learn. There’s nothing wrong with that. But as important as police work is, what’s more important is camaraderie. You gotta trust the guys you’re working with. Okay?”

Gavin grinned. “Now you’re teaching me something.”

“Oh, brother. Don’t go all sentimental on me. So tell me, how’d you get this idea about cell phone spying?”

“I saw it on the Internet once.”

“Just stumbled upon it while searching the World Wide Web?”

Gavin shifted. “I had an ex-girlfriend. Thought she was stalking me. Seemed to know where I’d be. Someone told me she could’ve loaded this thing on my, you know, phone.”

Frank pulled to a stop at the light, looked at Gavin, who didn’t seem to want to make eye contact.

“All right, fine.” Gavin sighed, a finger tracing the dashboard. “Yeah, okay, I looked into it. I was a freshman in college. I’d been serious with this chick since high school. She went to college and swore we’d stay together, but then she didn’t have time to see me. I got suspicious.”

“You do it?”

“No. I just looked into it. Had heard in the frat house that it could be done but nobody really knew how.”

Frank pulled into the parking lot of Cell Buy, with its tacky storefront promising deals of the century that were apparently not profitable enough to help them afford anything more than neon cardboard for the grand announcements. “This the store you went to?”

“No. The one on the other side of town.”

“Let’s go.” Frank got out and walked in, Gavin trailing.

One guy stood behind a half-circle counter, cradling a phone in his shoulder and talking fast. Without glancing up, he continued typing on the computer and carrying on the conversation. “Yeah, that’s right. Two years . . . Uh-huh. Then you can get the BlackBerry upgrade. . . . Sure, come on in. We’ll get you signed up.” He dropped the phone into his hand, then snatched a cell phone off the counter. “Sorry, dude. . . . No, I’m not busy.” He suddenly noticed both of them. “Let me call you back.” He snapped his phone shut. “Help you?” His name tag read Dave.

“We’re needing some information.”

“Looking for a new plan that can save you money?” He seemed to suddenly remember the smile that was supposed to go with that pitch.

“No.” Frank approached the counter, put his hands flat on top of it. “I’m looking for a way to spy on someone.”

“We’re a cell phone store.”

“With a cell phone.”

Dave blinked. “Let me get Pat. Pat knows everything.”

A few seconds later, Dave returned, followed by Pat. In every world, including the techno-geek crowd, there is the revered. Apparently Pat was that person. Dave offered him a front-row spot at the counter, pulled up a stool for him, decided he needed to do introductions. “This is Pat, our store manager. I’ve never seen him unable to answer a question.”

“Officer Merret. Officer Jenkins,” Frank said, studying Pat. He had a certain self-assurance you normally didn’t find among pale-skinned, superskinny, hairless males with a Bluetooth sticking out of unusually large ears.

He didn’t make eye contact as he said, “What can I do for you?” Instead, he typed on the computer, his full attention on the screen.

“First, you can give me some outstanding customer service,” Frank said.

Pat swiveled so he faced Frank. He didn’t say anything and his expression remained neutral.

“They want to know how to spy on someone using a cell phone.”

Pat, his expression unmoved, said, “We of course don’t sell anything like that here.”

Frank leaned in. “Of course. But let’s say we wanted to do this. Hypothetically, how would one go about doing it?”

Pat tilted his head to the side, a superiority-complex kind of smile nibbling at his lips. “It’s easy.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s a program you load onto the cell phone.”

“What does it allow you to do?”

“Pretty much whatever you want. You can listen in on phone calls. You can retrieve call logs. Any data or pictures.”

“You can even listen to conversations when the phone is off,” Dave added, then cleared his throat. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

“You’re telling me,” Frank said, “that this program allows someone to listen in on whatever is going on in a room, even if the phone is off?”

“That’s right,” Pat said. “The only way it doesn’t work is if the battery is taken out.”

“Is this kind of thing readily available?”

“Sure. It’s all over the Web.”

“How do you get it on the phone?”

“You have to have the phone in your possession to download the software.”

“So if it’s a girlfriend or someone you want to spy on, you have to snatch the phone, download it, and give it back.”

“That’s right.”

“Or you could have the software already on a phone you were selling.”

Pat started to nod, then stopped and glanced between Frank and Gavin. “What?”

“Hypothetically.”

“What are you saying?”

“Let’s say you wanted to listen to an entire town’s conversations. You load up these phones with some software, send them out, something like that?”

Pat’s otherwise colorless skin suddenly flushed pink. “In theory.”

“You guys doing that here? maybe thought it’d be a fun kind of prank? maybe got a little addictive, thought you’d take it a little further?”

“No. I can prove it. Pick any phone you like in the store. I’ll show you the programs on it. Or take my phone. You won’t find anything like that on there.” Pat slid his phone toward Frank, crossed his arms, and waited.

Frank slid it back. “No, thanks. That’s all the information I needed.”

Pat leaped to his feet. “Wait a minute. What are you saying? You think we’re behind this mess? we’re bugging people’s phones?”

“No, man. Just trying to figure some stuff out.” Frank held out a hand to shake.