Read A Reason to Believe Online
Authors: Diana Copland
its side. Finally, Matt managed to pull in behind
Bill’s garage. He killed the engine and the lights,
and then sat, catching his breath.
“Wow, that was impressive.” Kiernan’s eyes
were luminous in the near darkness.
“Impressive, how?”
“We didn’t end up in anyone’s swimming pool.”
Matt snorted. “As cold as it’s been, we’d likely
have slid across the top right into their family
room. Come on.” He opened his door and stepped
out, pulling his collar up around his throat when a
stiff breeze struck his cheeks.
“Christ,
it’s
gotten
colder,”
Kiernan
complained, slamming the Bronco door.
Matt was grateful Bill had shoveled behind the
garage, but the concrete driveway was still slick.
The moment the two of them stepped off the
pavement, they were nearly up to their knees in icy
white.
“Okay,” Kiernan groused, catching Matt’s arm
as his feet slipped, “the charm of the snow has
definitely worn off.”
Matt grunted. “Yeah, no kidding.”
They managed to make it to the covered patio
without either of them landing on their asses, and
then stood stomping the clinging white powder
from their legs. Matt reached into a shadowy
recess in an old outdoor fireplace and found the
key to the back door still secreted there.
It was dim and silent inside his brother’s usually
noisy, well-lit home. “Step carefully,” Matt
cautioned. “Twelve-year-old play area.”
“Can’t we turn on a light, maybe?” Kiernan
cursed under his breath when he kicked something
in the gloom.
“One sec.” Matt crossed to the large windows
that ran the length of the front of the house. He
cautiously pulled back the drapes and peered out.
“Nope, ‘fraid not.” Two news vans sat out front,
their inhabitants bundled up in heavy outerwear,
chatting amiably at the curb.
“Son of a bitch. How did they find your
brother’s house?”
“Searched my name on the Internet, I imagine.”
Matt let the curtains swing closed. “Plus, I
wouldn’t put it past whoever outed me to tip them
off I had family in the area. Come on. I know it’s
dark, but try not to break anything.”
“Yeah, I’d hate to smash an action figure or
something.”
“I was actually thinking more along the lines of
your neck.”
“Ah, you do care,” Kiernan said with a chuckle.
Kyle’s bedroom had a bathroom attached
through an open door. Fortunately, there was a
nightlight burning in a plug on the bathroom wall,
so the interior of the boy’s bedroom wasn’t totally
dark. The floor, however, was completely covered
with clothes, books, toys and a skateboard, which
Matt noticed just before he stepped on it.
“Skateboard,” he warned as he stepped over it.
“See it, but thanks. Think the bed is safe?”
“He’s twelve. Sit at your own risk.”
He was amused when Kiernan patted the
rumpled bedding before launching himself into the
middle of it. Matt took a seat on a chair much too
small for him behind a desk that was the same, and
cursed when he hit his kneecap sharply on the
edge. He clicked on the mouse and rubbed at the
sharp ache while the computer screen slowly lit
with the Windows sign on screen.
“Okay, Kyle,” he muttered, “what’s your
password.”
“Pet’s name,” Kiernan suggested.
“They don’t have one.”
“What, no dog?”
“He’s allergic.”
“Favorite cartoon character.” Kiernan grimaced
and reached under the bedspread, coming up with
a baseball. “Or major league player.”
“Let’s try Jeter,” he mused, inserting the name.
“Nope.”
“Football, maybe?”
“Seahawks.” He typed it in. Again the desktop
refused to open. “Not that, either.”
Kiernan tossed the ball up and caught it easily.
“Favorite food?”
“Mac and cheese.” Matt cursed when the system
still refused to open. But now a clue appeared
under the sign-in box. “Harry Potter’s nemesis…”
He frowned.
“Oh, come on!” Kiernan said incredulously
when Matt just stared at him. “Lord Voldemort!”
Matt blinked. “Alrighty then. Spelling?”
“You are seriously losing cool points, here,
Matthew. “L-O-R—”
“I’ve got that part, thanks.”
Kiernan grinned. “Just like it sounds,” he said,
leaning casually against the wall, legs crossed at
the ankle. “V-O-L-D-E-M-O-R-T. And you should
know you are the only person on the entire planet
who doesn’t know that.”
“I’m not the only person,” Matt grumbled as he
tried it. There was a bell tone, and Kyle’s desktop
appeared. “And not all of us think like a twelve-
year-old boy.”
Kiernan snorted. “Why, thank you, sir.”
Matt opened a search engine. “Let’s start with
Samantha Mitchell and see where it takes us,
okay?”
Several links appeared, but as Matt went
through each of them it became apparent they were
stories they’d already seen in the society pages.
Twenty minutes and nearly thirty links later, they
were no further along than they had been when
they’d come in the back door.
“This is getting us nowhere,” Matt muttered.
“How about PeopleFinder?” Kiernan suggested.
“Good idea.” When the main page appeared, it
asked for first name, middle initial, last name, and
state. Matt entered Patrick H. Mitchell and the
state. Forty-four boxes containing the name popped
up.
“Holy shit.” Kiernan scooted to the edge of the
bed. “There are that many Mitchells in the area?”
“More. Look here. Each one has a list of their
known relatives.” He scrolled through them, and
was nearly to the bottom when another name
caught his eye. “There he is.”
Kiernan’s hand rested on his shoulder as he
leaned closer. Under the heading Known Relatives
read Brandon Mitchell, Ethel Mitchell, Samantha
Elaine Mitchell.
“No maiden name,” Kiernan muttered. “Shit.”
“Not out here. But maybe inside…” Matt moved
the cursor over a red box near the bottom offering
more details and clicked the button.
Another screen loaded, bringing up the prices to
find additional information. They both cursed
aloud.
“Figures.” Matt reached toward his back pocket.
“No, use mine.” Kiernan grabbed his arm to
stop him, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.
“Paper trail, remember?” Kiernan flipped the
wallet open and pulled out a credit card. “I can’t
be fired for doing a web search for Police
Commissioner Mitchell.”
Matt exhaled heavily. “I think that ship has
sailed,” he muttered, but took the card and entered
the information. When the page finally loaded, it
was clear they had the right Mitchell. Listed were
his parents’ names, his school records, every
address he’d lived at since college. And under
1993 was his marriage to one Samantha Elaine
Neumeyer on October 21, including the name of
the church.
Matt went back to the main page and entered her
maiden name. A similar page to Patrick’s opened,
listing her parents’ names and her college,
including sorority, and her wedding date to
Patrick.
“Okay, this is just weird.” Matt hit the back
button. “According to Toni, there’s a son who isn’t
Mitchell’s. So, either she’s wrong, or…”
“What if she wasn’t married? It’s not that
uncommon.”
“No. It still should have shown up. There’d be a
registered birth certificate.”
“What if she somehow managed to have her
record before she married Mitchell expunged? He
is a politician; they wouldn’t want an illegitimate
birth floating around out there on PeopleFinder. It
should have been easy enough for her, she’s
married to a lawyer.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Good point.” He stared
at the screen for a second longer and then exited
the page. When he went to the top and typed in an
HTML address, Kiernan sighed.
“Matt, you can’t do that. You said they keep a
record of all of the IP addresses. Plus, there will
be a record you signed in.”
“Listen, my job is probably already history.
Let’s get what information we can, while we can.”
The sign-on page he’d requested loaded, and he
entered his name and badge number. The
departmental website connected to an advanced
search engine, and under Inquiry, Matt typed in
Samantha Elaine Neumeyer.
Much more quickly
than at the paid site, a page loaded and Matt felt
Kiernan lean forward against his shoulder.
“‘Samantha Elaine Neumeyer,’” he read aloud.
“‘DOB, 16 September, 1954. Street Address:
1943 Rocky Cliff Drive. Attended University of
Washington 1972 through 1976. Graduated with a
BA in Business Administration…’”
His voice trailed away, and they both read the
entire page carefully. Near the bottom was the
e ntr y,
Spouse: Patrick H. Mitchell. Married
October 21, 1993. Mitchell elected to first term
as Police Commissioner in 2006…
“I don’t get it.” Kiernan sounded confused. “If
she has a son who’s now an adult, where is he?
Shouldn’t it show up?”
“It should. Unless someone has cleaned up this
site, too.” He turned his head to find Kiernan’s
eyes close, and quick with comprehension.
“Someone inside, then.”
Matt nodded. “Yes. Like Ed said, someone
inside.”
Kiernan looked thoughtful when his eyes shifted
back to the screen. “So, is this a dead end, then?”
Matt straightened with new determination. “Not
necessarily.” He directed the cursor back to the
search bar and typed in
Department of Vital
Statistics: all existing private records.
When the
request for a password came up, his lips tightened
as he typed it in.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Your entire body stiffened when you typed in
the password.”
Slightly disconcerted to find Kiernan could read
him so easily, Matt paused before he answered.
“This site is restricted, and heavily monitored. If
I’ve been officially terminated, we won’t be able
to access it at all. The first thing they do is rescind
our passwords.”
“Oh. Well, at least then you’ll know for sure.”
They watched the cursor blink and the status bar
slowly load. Matt had just about decided he had, in
fact, been fired when the page opened, and he
exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was
holding.
“There you go,” Kiernan said. “Still gainfully
employed.”
“For now.” Matt entered Samantha’s full maiden
name. “Let’s see what this does.” He pressed
enter. Almost immediately the page filled with
text. “Here we go. Graduated from Mt. Pleasant in
1972, went immediately to U of W. Wracked up a
dozen parking tickets in downtown Seattle
between 1972 and 1976…”
Kiernan laughed. “Sounds like me. I’m
notorious. It’s gotten to the point where Aidan
doesn’t want to let me drive at all.”
“Well, I’m sure Samantha’s daddy wasn’t
thrilled, either.” Matt scrolled further down.
“There!” Kiernan cried, pointing. “Certificate of
Marriage, 1980!”
Matt clicked on the link. They strained forward,
waiting anxiously. When the page loaded,
Kiernan’s fingers closed on his arm.
“‘November 18, 1980,’” Matt read aloud.
“‘Bride: Samantha Elaine Neumeyer. Groom:
Ambrose Garrett…Preston.’” His voice trailed off
into silence, and Matt stared, his heart leaping into
his throat.
“Holy shit,” Kiernan gasped.
The words had no sooner left his mouth than the
screen went blank.
“Son of a bitch.” Matt repeatedly punched the
Refresh button. Nothing happened for several
seconds, but then a box appeared. In bright red
capital letters were the words
ACCESS DENIED.
“Goddamn it!”
Matt closed the lid of the laptop with a sharp
snap. “Come on,” he said, abruptly pushing to his
feet. “We need to get out of here.”
“Why?” Kiernan asked, but he stood as well.
“That Access Denied message means someone
knows I was in the system. They have IP