Red Tide (Siren Publishing Classic) (23 page)

As soon as the door shut behind Sam, Ed was the first to speak. “No. Absolutely not. N-O.”

“Ed, wait a minute.”

“She’s got a point,” Ron interjected. “John could try to argue that since she’d moved out and signed the agreement it wasn’t legal, but since she did originally install the computer she could possibly claim she was trying to get some information she’d left on it.”

“But what if he
is
the one who tried to kill her? What if he tries again? What if he comes home while she’s there? No!”

Mitch’s face grew hard and cold. “This is my decision to make. I’m going to do it.”

“But Mitch,” Ed tried to argue.

She silenced him with a steely gaze he’d seen before, one that meant arguing with her would prove futile.

He sighed in resignation. “I’m going with you.”

She shook her head. “No. You can’t. He’s such a neat nut, if the slightest thing is out of place, he’ll know immediately. Besides, I need you at my house to run my computer.”

Both men looked at her.

“If there’s anything to find, it’s going to be in John’s computer. He’s compulsive about stuff like that. I just know that he would have the information there, somewhere. It might take a little looking to find it, but it’ll be there.”

Ed sat on Mitch’s couch and watched her pack two portable hard drives, a small spiral notebook, and writeable CDs into a duffel bag. Her mouth was set in a hard, grim line, determined to finish what she’d started. She disappeared into her office and returned with her 9mm and a shoulder holster. He noticed when she removed the magazine containing the regular lead slugs and replaced it with the one loaded with silver-tipped hollow-points. The spare clip she dropped into the duffel bag. Extra insurance.

God help whoever she uses that on
.

“I’ll go and sit in the truck and wait for you.”

She shook her head and slipped the holster on. A loose, long-sleeved shirt covered the telltale bulge and allowed her easy access to the weapon. She had a concealed weapons permit, so at least it was legal. “I need to do this my way, Ed.” She walked over and sat down next to him on the couch.

“Your way is stupid and stubborn.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Is this where you start saying I’m acting like a stupid woman on TV?”

“Exactly.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I didn’t say you can’t, but Jesus H. Christ, you nearly died!”

“And that’s why I want to be the one fucking him over. I have every right to do this after what he tried to do to me.”

“That’s not going to help if he kills you!”

Her gaze turned stony. “He shows up at the house while I’m there, I’ll put a bullet through the fucker’s head.”

Impasse.

They sat there staring at each other for a long moment. Finally, he leaned over and kissed her, reaching around behind her and pulling her against him. When he sat back he brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

“I love you, Mitch.”

She smiled, her eyes bright. “I love you, too, Ed.”

He carried her duffel bag down to his truck and opened the door for her.

“Be careful, hon, okay?” He leaned forward and kissed her once more. “You checked to make sure your cell phone’s charged up?”

She nodded. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“How are you going to get in? I thought you gave him back his keys?”

She smiled and held up the garage door opener. “I’m sure he hasn’t changed the codes.”

She drove off, watching Ed in the rearview mirror until she turned the corner. Her stomach felt like one big knot as she quickly made the drive to Tampa. In her mind, she played out several scenarios, the worst being John returning while she was in the middle of the download. If that happened and he tried to do anything, she’d have to defend herself. She had no doubts he could physically overcome her if he tried. He was bigger and stronger than her. As a final recourse, she would shoot him.

She loosened up a little when she drove by the house the first time and found the driveway empty and the lights off. A block away she turned around and drove by again, slowing as she approached. Pointing the door opener at the garage, she pressed the button. The door smoothly slid up on its tracks. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she let it out after seeing the empty garage.

Mitch drove Ed’s F150 into the garage and closed the garage door behind her. Just inside the kitchen door she stopped until her eyes adjusted to the shadows. John always kept the curtains drawn, turning what could have been a bright, cheery home into a virtual tomb. It had been a point of contention between them during their marriage.

She made her way to John’s den and turned on the small desk lamp next to the computer. Everything was off except for the printer. She turned the computer on and booted the system.

From what she could see, he still ran the same software and all his passwords appeared to be the same. She pulled up his File Manager and scanned the directories before pulling her cell phone out of the duffel bag and calling Ed. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” She heard his sigh of relief.

“You okay?”

She propped the phone in the crook of her neck as she typed commands into the computer. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m going through his system now. I…hold on.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Hold on a second, Ed.” Mitch spotted a directory labeled “journ” and smiled. If John really was still doing things the same old way, that might just be all she needed to find. “I just found his journal, I think.” She opened the directory and looked at the individual files. They all ended with “.doc,” indicating they were files from his word processor.

“Bingo,” she whispered more to herself than Ed.

“What? What did you find?”

“I just found some files I think are his journals.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Depends on what I find in them.” She hooked up the external hard drive and started copying everything. She started scrolling through his network files when she found something interesting. “Ed, go fire up my computer.”

“Why?”

“I found something interesting here. I want to see if I can access it from my computer.”

“Just a minute. Okay, it’s online.”

Mitch pulled up the files on her end, then rifled John’s file cabinet and found hard copies of all the procedures and passwords. “Go to this URL—” She recited the address and Ed typed it in.

“It’s asking me for a user name and password.”

Mitch read what was in the file and heard Ed type them in.

“Holy shit!”

“What is it Ed?”

“I don’t know.” She heard keys tapping, “I’m not sure. It’s some sort of tracking program. Almost looks like it might be tied in through GPS or something. Reminds me of my friend Ken, the trucker? He had a computer on board his rig. The company he drove for could track him through it. It looks something like that.”

“What’s it tracking?”

“Boats, I’m assuming. Most of the targets are in the Gulf or the Caribbean.”

“Bookmark that main page Ed.”

“Done.”

Mitch jotted down the information in her notebook. Then she found another notation in his files and gave Ed that URL, too. “Does it identify the server or anything?”

“No. Just asks for user and password information.”

Mitch searched through the files. John was infamous for documenting everything, including passwords. At least, he was when she was with him. “Try this—” and read him the information.

He typed it in. “I’m in.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure yet.” She heard more tapping. “I can’t make heads or tails of this. It’s…I don’t know. We need Ron over here to look at this. It’s account info or something.”

“What kind of account?”

“Bank accounts, I think. Hold on a second.” He put the phone down and a minute later picked back up. “It looks like it’s a site in the Caymans, if that tells you anything.”

“That tells me more than I need to know, I think.” She told Ed she’d call him back when she was finished and hung up to finish the rest of the work on John’s computer.

It took her about an hour. She made two backups of the hard drive and went through his CDs and made copies of data on those, too. During the wait, she rifled his filing cabinet and found the hard copies of all his passwords and user names. While looking through his directories she found another mainframe access program and quickly copied all his login information and passwords. When she finished, she quickly packed her duffel and carefully rearranged the desk so everything was where he’d left it.

Her nerves felt so jangled she almost screamed when his fax machine rang. A nervous laugh escaped her and she leaned over to see what it was. At first, it didn’t make any sense. But as she read further, while a total of three sheets popped out one by one, she smiled. Coming from a sender in Texas, they’d sent a list of dates, numbers and codes that looked familiar.

Someone had just made a boo-boo.

A
big
boo-boo.

And the plain paper fax was equipped with a “copy” function.

Her luck had just changed.

She tucked the papers in her bag with the other items. Then she looked over the desk with the feeling she’d forgotten something. Finally attributing it to nerves, she turned off the lamp and made her way back to the kitchen in the deepening gloom.

Before she stepped out into the garage, she took one last look behind her at the house with the feeling it was the last time she would ever set foot in it. A small part of her was saddened by that proposition. Conflicting memories waged war within her, and she thought back to the first Christmas she’d spent there with John. It had been a good time for her, a happy time, so much different than a few months later when she walked in and found him screwing the blonde.

Mitch tossed her duffel bag onto the seat and climbed into the truck, slamming down the locks before opening the garage door. She practically held her breath as the door slid up on its tracks and relief didn’t wash over her until it closed behind her and she was safely on her way home. She put the garage door opener in her purse.

Then she smacked her forehead. She should have taken a picture of the
Emmerand
photo with her cell phone, but she forgot.

I’m not going back for that. Too risky.

She called Ed.

“What the hell have you been doing?” he yelled in her ear. “I’ve been worried sick!”

“Well, hello to you, too!”

She heard him sigh. “I’m sorry, hon, but it’s just that I’ve been sitting here waiting to hear from you.” His tone changed as his worry abated. “Well, did you get everything?”

“I think so. We’ll have to wait until I get back to see though. I made two complete backups, plus copied some stuff off some CDs he had. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find something to concretely tie him to the
Emmerand.
And guess what?”

“What?”

“You need to take a look at an interesting fax that arrived while I was there. I made a copy.”

“Good girl!”

“And I have a hunch if John’s still as anal-retentive about keeping records as he always was, we’ll find something. If he is involved. Then I’ll turn it all over to the police.”

There was a long pause from Ed. Mitch was about to ask if he was okay when he spoke. “I really worried about you, sweetie.”

She felt a warm, fuzzy tingle inside her, and realized how good it felt to finally be able to admit it was love. “I love you, Ed.”

“I love you, too, Mitch. Hurry home.” She thumbed the end button and dropped the phone on the seat, a big smile on her face.

The television was nothing more than background noise to Kenny Schoenborn as he sat on his sofa, Romeo’s case file spread out around him, covering the coffee table, the sofa, and his lap. Interviews in Ybor City brought forth two witnesses who’d seen Denise Stanley in a bar on Seventh, but no one had seen when she left or who she might have left with. Apparently, once she stepped out that door, she seemed to have stepped into Romeo’s arms and off the face of the planet.

Kenny knew he was taking this case far too personally, at least too much so for his early involvement in it. Friday afternoon, he finally took George’s advice and scheduled an appointment to talk to the staff psychologist Monday morning. The dreams of Jenny were coming hard and strong every night now, and it’d been over a week since his last good night of sleep.

He tossed the file onto the table and stood. All day long he’d felt nervous, jumpy, wanting to do something. He finally gave in and drove to Ybor City and walked to the bar Stanley had last been seen at.

It was early evening. The crowds were still light, but growing in ever-increasing numbers as night fell. Kenny sat on a bench directly outside the bar and watched the street, trying to feel what Romeo felt.