Firewall (14 page)

4:45 P.M. TUESDAY

Grayson glanced at his watch before he and Joe entered the interview room to question Jose Pedraza. Vince chose to observe the suspect through the one-way glass. Why? Was he afraid Pedraza would recognize him? Ever since the SSA indicated Vince was under investigation, Grayson had watched his every move.

“Get this done. I need to get home,” Vince said. “Aaron’s out of insulin.”

“Why can’t he get his own medicine?” Joe said. “He’s a grown man, and we have a job here.”

Grayson didn’t know any Aaron.

“Hey, retired agent, my personal life is none of your business.”

“Suit yourself,” Joe said. “People died yesterday, and it’s our job to find out who’s responsible.” He frowned and nodded at Grayson. “You take the lead. Go with your gut.”

Joe and Grayson entered the room and seated themselves at a table across from Pedraza.

Pedraza met them with a cold gaze. Grayson had tangled with Murford’s men more than once in the last two days
 
—highly trained men who’d been recruited for what? Confiscate a software program from a woman? Bring down an airport terminal?

“We have a problem, Jose, and we need your help.” Grayson tossed a notebook and pen on the table.

“How do you figure?”

“We have dozens dead, a murdered mother, a missing child, and we think it’s all linked to a security breach on a software program.”

“And you think I have those answers?” Pedraza laughed. “Do I look like the intellectual type?”

“I think you’re one smart man. And you’re alive because I chose to give you a break.”

“A break?” Pedraza frowned and cursed. “You shot me.”

Grayson grinned. “My aim was a little off. A few inches to the right, and you’d be on a cold slab. Looks like Breckon drew the short straw.”

“Thanks. Maybe I need a lawyer after all.”

“You were read your Miranda rights and waived the right to a lawyer.”

Pedraza stared at his hand. “I did. So let’s get this done.”

“As I said, you’re one smart man.” Grayson opened Pedraza’s file and purposely took his time to leaf through it. “According to this, you have a preference for prison food and thirty minutes a day of sunlight. Or solitary confinement.” When he didn’t respond, Grayson closed the file. “Look, make this easy on yourself. You’ve had a few bad breaks and paid for them. Now the media will have you fried if it leaks you’re connected to the airport bombing. So far, you’ve been a lucky man. Are you going to keep your streak?”

Pedraza cocked a brow. No doubt he didn’t feel the past hours had gone his way. “What are you suggesting?”

“You were in the same Navy SEAL unit as Murford and Breckon. Old buds. I wasn’t in the military, but my dad retired from the Marines, and my brother will be a lifer. I understand the camaraderie.”

“So how does that help me?”

“Any of the other guys you served with active in this mission?”

When Pedraza didn’t respond, Grayson continued. “Tell us how to find Murford, and we’ll talk to the judge.”

“Lesser sentence or witness protection?” He swallowed hard, and for a split second his hands shook.

“We can let the prosecutor and judge know of your cooperation and recommend a lesser sentence or a witness security option. Depends on what you have.” What did Pedraza know that scared him?

“And it better be good,” Joe said. “That was my house you blasted.”

Pedraza snorted. “Aren’t you glad you weren’t inside?”

“You’d better be glad I wasn’t.” Joe spoke just above a whisper. “Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He leaned forward. “Let me tell you something, Pancho Villa. I’ll forgive the mess you made of my house. I might even suggest a lesser sentence. But not without a solid lead to Phillip Murford and who’s behind the airport bombing.”

“What’s an old man like you doing in the FBI?”

“They called in the best.”

Go for it, Joe.

“Okay, Pedraza,” Joe said. “Let’s hear what you got. We’ll keep you out of Murford’s way, and we’ll need your testimony in court.” Joe did the stare down, the one he used to level on Grayson when he’d gotten into trouble.

Pedraza hesitated. Shook his head. “Murford’s not who I’m concerned about.”

“Who is?” Joe said.

“No idea. I said before, I’m just a low man on the food chain.”

“I bet you heard a name, saw a face.”

“Nope. All I know is he isn’t from Houston.”

“Where?”

“New York.”

“What do you know about him?”

“Murford didn’t like him much. Said the boss had a temper.” Pedraza lifted his chin. “Took my orders from Murford. We worked by phone. You know, contract labor.”

Joe rubbed his brow, a sign for Grayson to take over.

“What’s the phone number for Murford?” Grayson shoved the notebook and pen toward Pedraza.

Joe pointed to it and Pedraza wrote a number.

“What kind of orders did Murford give you?” Grayson said.

Pedraza simply stared.

“I smell a lie,” Joe said. “We need the truth.”

“He contacted me for whatever he needed. In the beginning I followed Taryn Young. Took pictures. Recorded conversations. Told him where she went.”

“What else?” Grayson said.

“Witness protection, right?”

Grayson leaned in. “Why are you so afraid of this man?”

Pedraza’s gaze darted about the room. “Two men from our original team were killed weeks before the airport bombing.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t answer their phone by the second ring. It was a message to all of us.”

Grayson jotted a few notes to run through the FIG later. Those hits were done recently. “What else have you done?”

Sweat formed on Pedraza’s brow. “Breckon and I helped Murford tear apart Young’s condo. He was looking for a flash drive and getting all the pics of the two of them together.”

“Do you know what was on the flash drive?”

“Murford called it a tiebreaker. Worth a few million or more.”

“So Murford needed the flash drive to sell to someone else.”

“You got it. I guess the boss needed it for something big.”

“Did you take part in the airport bombing?”

“We were as shocked as the rest of the world. Don’t lay that one on me.”

Grayson made notes. Were the agents who explored the connection way off? “Did you murder Claire Levin?”

Pedraza narrowed his eyes. “Murford killed the woman.”

“Did the little girl watch the crime?”

“Murford had me take her to the front of the studio before he took care of the woman. Then he left with the kid.” No hint of regret crossed Pedraza’s face.

“Did he give you an idea where he stashed the little girl?”

Pedraza shook his head. “He told us just enough to do our jobs.”

At least Zoey hadn’t witnessed her mother’s murder. “Did the little girl go willingly with him?”

“Yes. Called him Mr. Shep.”

“Anything else I haven’t asked? Things we should know?”

Pedraza blinked. “I didn’t kill Claire Levin. I’ll swear to it.”

“I believe you,” Grayson said. “How many others work for Murford?”

“No one else I know of.”

“Who was at the church?”

“The three of us.”

Grayson would grill this guy until tomorrow if that’s what it took. “Who’s giving information to Murford from the FBI?”

“Do you think I’d tell you that? I’d be dead within the hour.”

That confirmed a mole existed. “Give us the name and we’ll make an arrest.”

Pedraza stiffened. “Who said there was a mole?”

“You did, my friend.”

“Nothing from me about that.”

Grayson would let it rest for now, especially with Vince watching. “Whose idea to eliminate me and take Taryn Young?”

“Murford ordered both, and he had a car waiting.”

“And you had no idea where he planned to take Young?”

Pedraza drummed his fingers on the table. “Told you before. I just did what I was told and collected my pay.”

“We have camera footage of a woman seen with Breckon and Murford. What do you know about her?”

“Probably Murford’s girlfriend.”

“I thought no one else was involved.” Grayson showed her pic on his BlackBerry.

“I forgot about her,” Pedraza said. “Never met her. Just heard him talking.”

“How can we find her? Name?”

“You know as much as I do.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Try again. You’re smarter than that,” Grayson said. “I’m ready to change your address.”

Pedraza frowned. “She goes by Dina. Works in the lounge at a Marriott on the southwest side.”

Grayson finally had a lead on Phillip Murford and possibly where Zoey was being held.

7:00 P.M. TUESDAY

Grayson pulled into the parking lot of the Southwest Marriott with Joe snoozing beside him. His uncle needed a good night’s rest instead of the lifestyle of a much younger man. But Grayson wouldn’t tell him that. Joe might decide to prove he still had the miles-per-hour stuff.

An accident on the interstate had stopped them for forty minutes. Then traffic crept to two lanes. An ambulance, fire trucks, HPD, and the vulture swarm of tow trucks, which didn’t help his impatience
 
—a trait he shared with his dad. Joe complained about Grayson’s lead foot, but all the speed-demon remarks had been said before. Just like the speeding ticket comments. Grayson wanted to chew on somebody and spit ’em out. Not exactly the thoughts of a man who placed his trust in God.

Sleep deprivation sure made an agent testy.

Taryn’s collapse had shaken him a little more than he cared to admit. How much could her body handle? Joe had initiated an escort to transport her to the health services unit, where she could rest in one of the beds there. The nurse had given her something to relax, and she’d be safe. If Grayson allowed himself to dwell on the matter, he’d admit being a twinge jealous that Joe had been there for her breakdown. Definitely an attraction, but not anything he could deal with now. He’d met the woman only hours ago,
and already she’d wiggled into his heart. How incredibly unlike him
 
—Grayson Hall, who never went beyond three dates for fear he might get captured.

Joe had made hotel reservations until the repairs on his house were finished, but Grayson didn’t want to think about anything at the moment other than apprehending Murford.

“This old man is getting a little tired,” Joe said as Grayson parked the car. “But don’t tell your SSA.”

They’d learned Dina Dancer’s shift began at six o’clock. At least they’d catch her fresh before the drinking crowd stole her attention. With Breckon dead, Pedraza in custody, and a vague image of her in incriminating photos, they had leverage for the interview. Grayson and Joe exited the car and walked to the hotel’s entrance.

“You’re getting personally involved,” Joe said.

“Nah. Just doing my job and wanting the truth to surface.”

“Taryn is special. You and I felt it from the start.”

As soon as Joe said her name, Grayson realized she’d gotten to him bad. Later he’d analyze his feelings. “I’m thinking Dina can lead us to not only Murford but where Zoey’s being held.”

“I hope you’re right on both counts. Sure would like to end this tonight.”

Grayson huffed. “You want to see the stats on that?”

“Not really. I might want to retire again.”

“Let me refresh you,” Grayson said. “The FBI interviewed over twenty-eight thousand people in the McVeigh case. Nearly a billion pieces of information. The Boston Marathon bombings were up in the thousands.”

“Look at the manpower working on this. Yes, it’ll take a while, but nothing will go untouched. When arrests are made, it’ll be solid.”

Joe wasn’t claiming anything Grayson didn’t already know, but his uncle put things in the right perspective. Helped Grayson calm down and zone in on his job, initiating action instead of reacting to every piece of lousy news.

Inside the hotel, they entered the shadows of the lounge area with orange-and-yellow mood lighting. A man and woman cozied up at the bar, and two couples sat at tables. No server in sight. Grayson made his way to the end of the bar and caught the bartender’s attention.

“We’d like to talk to Dina Dancer.” Grayson pulled out his ID.

The bald man eyed them with a frown. “Can’t help you there. She didn’t show up tonight.”

“Did she call?”

“No.”

“Is not showing up for work a habit?”

“I tried her cell, but it went to voice mail. Not like her.”

Grayson showed him the photo on his BlackBerry. “Is this Dina Dancer?”

The bartender examined it and shrugged. “Could be. Not sure.”

“What can you tell me about her?”

“Did her job. Kept to herself.”

“Anyone here she was close to?”

“She worked her shift alone.”

“Just you two, huh? Did she talk a lot?”

“No. We just worked.”

Grayson knew better. “We’d like her cell number and address.”

“You’ll have to talk to the manager about that.”

Grayson showed him a pic of Murford. “Ever seen this guy?”

He studied the photo. “Can’t say I have.”

Grayson handed him his card. “If you see or hear from Miss Dancer or the man in the photo, please contact us.”

After the hotel’s manager provided Dancer’s information, Grayson and Joe viewed the security camera footage from the past week. Videos showed the woman arriving to work and leaving alone. Frustration wove a mean streak through Grayson. One dead end after another.

This case would be solved by the work of hundreds of people
who specialized in specific areas of crime. If he didn’t get some sleep soon, he’d be one fewer set of eyes.

Grayson drove to Dancer’s small home in less than ten minutes, turning several times in a middle-class subdivision where each resident had the choice of four house plans. At her address, no lights, no car in the garage, and locked doors made for a sour agent, along with his other attitude problems. After a call to headquarters for a search warrant, they were in the car again.

“What about some dinner and checking into our hotel? I’ll take the foldout couch. The insurance company is picking up the tab,” Joe said. “You look as old as I feel.”

“My stomach’s complaining, but I’ll drop you off at the hotel. I’m heading to the office to check on Taryn.”

Joe chuckled. “You’d turn down a hotel with your uncle for a night at the office?”

Here it comes.
“I want to make sure she’s okay.”

He grinned. “I knew it the moment she walked into the house. The chemistry was hard to miss.”

Grayson bit back a denial that Joe would see straight through. “She was married on Sunday.”

“A phony wedding, right down to the preacher. And the groom murdered her best friend.”

“My point. She trusted and cared for Murford enough to marry him. Although he’s been exposed as a killer, her emotions must be spinning like a top. I doubt she’s looking for a relationship.”

“She’s scared, afraid for the little girl,” Joe said. “But she trusts you. I can see it in her eyes.”

This was not a conversation Grayson wanted to continue. “I helped her, believed her when no one else did. Of course she’d trust me. That’s it.”

“What little I know of Taryn, I like,” Joe said. “I’ve always appreciated brains and beauty. Loved your aunt and never found another woman who even came close to her. But I might be
tempted with Taryn. Those green eyes and auburn hair are the looks of an angel. Whatcha think, Nephew?”

Grayson laughed to break the tension. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Helping me get out of my nasty mood. For keeping my attention on the case and not off on some rabbit trail.”

“Maybe I just want you to find a woman who makes you happy. Do you need a chaperone?”

“Once I see she’s okay, I’ll join you at the hotel.”

“I’m coming too. Grayson, a good woman will help you forget the past. Because you’ve never dealt with it.”

“That’s God’s role. While you’re on the spiritual path, see what you can do with my dad.”