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Authors: Colby Marshall

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BOOK: Flash Point
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‘Teva, get Irv on the line and have him cross-reference all the bank victims and employees for ties to the Olney Theatre Centre. I know this is different from our usual cases and it's most likely the victims were random, but until we have the perps in custody and know exactly how this went down, I'm not ready to write off checking victim profiles for connections. The DC sniper's victims looked random, too, but turned out they were meant to look that way so he could kill his wife and not be a suspect,' Saleda said.

‘Doesn't hurt to check all the angles,' Jenna said. ‘Victim connections or not, if they met through the theatre, maybe that's how they picked their character or literature piece.'

‘Damn,' Teva said.

‘Irv's not answering.'

Huh. For Irv, that was unusual. But even though somehow she always subconsciously thought Irv hacked databases, sent them reports, and chugged Monster energy drinks in his sleep, he
was
a real human being and probably needed to go somewhere to buy those energy drinks every once in a while. He
had
said he was running an errand.

‘We could just go to this theatre, poke into some of its records ourselves,' Teva suggested.

Saleda shook her head. ‘The theatre is an avenue I want to explore, but I'm not going to go traipsing down there to grill a bunch of actors and directors unless we've got something more concrete to go on.'

Grey hummed from her corner chair. ‘You have one. For fun. Even the
Earnest
play thinks jobs and everything else should be fun. It says pleasure should be the only reason anyone goes anywhere.' She smiled neatly, watching her fingers slowly unravel a thread on her blouse. ‘But at the same time, what M wrote from
Les Miserables
about many tongues talking … that isn't a line in the stage show. Only the novel.'

And while Jenna duly noted the latter portion of Grey's statement, it was the first part of it that made pear green flash in.

Trivial. The color for trivial flashed at the moment Grey mentioned the word pleasure in conjunction with
The Importance of Being Earnest
quote, claiming it was the only reason anyone should go anywhere.

A theory whipped around in Jenna's mind. ‘If you ask anyone what they do in their lives they consider vital – so important they can't skip it – most would list stuff like paying bills, going to work, weddings … funerals. Not anything for fun. Fun isn't prioritized.

‘The bank crew left us a note and a message. They said to take trivial things in life very seriously. This group, they're radicals, but they believe they're intellectually elite. They could just strike anywhere, set off another attack without warning. I thought at first the note warning us was just to cause fear, but I think it's more. I think they're playing a game with us.'

‘You mean you think they left us a way to find them if we're smart enough to figure it out?' Teva said in disbelief.

Jenna smirked. ‘A little test. To see if we're worthy. And the theatre that played two shows associated with our group last year, there's a chance it's a coincidence. But there's a chance it's not.

‘Going to a play would be a trivial leisure activity. Maybe they're telling us where to find them – or putting us at the starting gate, anyway.'

Saleda was silent a moment, seeming to consider, before she finally spoke. ‘It wouldn't be the first time a criminal played games with investigators. Worthy theory. Let's check out the Olney.'

Twenty-one

Irv slammed the door of his bright blue Honda HR-V. The surroundings weren't exactly where he'd pictured ending up once he knew who he was tracking down, but somehow, it fit all the same.

The swooshes of skateboards flying up and down the concrete of vertical ramps hit his ears, whoops and hollers of teens showing off for each other on the jumps at the street-skating park inside of Veteran's Memorial Park. Irv stepped up to the chain-link fence enclosing the rink, his feet sinking into the grass. He wasn't wearing the required helmet and pads required to enter the self-maintained park. Didn't matter. He wasn't there to skate, and he couldn't even if he had been.

This moment couldn't get any weirder. Not considering the sight that met him inside the open-flow course. Not that hackers capable of breaking into the FBI database with Irv's own credentials shouldn't skateboard. It seemed as good a hobby as any. This one just happened to be a particularly odd case. It was downright bizarre, so much that he might've thought the GPS coordinates he'd gotten off the cell phone might have been wrong, had a certain telltale sign not stood beside the fence wagging his tail, giving away his pal.

Irv leaned into the fence, fingers twined in the links. ‘You're just full of surprises, Yancy.'

The skater in the neon yellow helmet hopped from his board, landing deftly despite his metal handicap. He scooped up his plain black board and trudged toward him. ‘Yeah, well, I figured the next step to add in the bionic man routine would be go-go-Gadget wheels.'

Yancy exited the gate and stepped past Irv to a kid who had to be around ten, sitting on the bench facing the park. Yancy dug in his pocket and pulled out some bills, handed them off. ‘Thanks, buddy. See you next time.'

As Yancy turned back to Irv, Irv cocked his head. ‘You let just any kid in a public park watch your dog? I'd have figured some of Jenna's super-secret protective strategies would've rubbed off on you by now.'

Yancy smiled, squatted beside the brown dachshund, and unscrewed the cap of the water bottle sitting beside the plastic dog bowl. ‘Eh, the kid can't get in the park without adult supervision, so one day when I saw them turning him away I made him a deal: watch the sausage while I skate, and I'll supervise while he does. Kid drove a hard bargain. Asked for two dollars per service as an insurance fee in case Oboe bites him. I give him three hoping I'd get lucky and he'd finally kidnap the little bastard.'

Irv chuckled. The guy talked a big game where the dog was concerned, but to be such a pain in Yancy's ass, the two sure seemed inseparable.

‘So, what made you take up skating? I wouldn't have figured you'd have a lot of extra time on your hands these days with watching Ayana so much, answering dispatch, and dating,' Irv said.

‘Can't be all work and no play, I guess. Decided I needed a hobby that involved something other than sitting in front of my PC while Oboe sits beside me and gets fat. Plus, there's this great coffee shop down the road that thinks I'm a veteran and always gives me free stuff, and Oboe can still do his fat thing,' Yancy said. ‘But I figure since you somehow knew I was here, you still spend lots of time in front of
your
PC. All work, Irv. It's not good for you.'

You don't know the half of it.

‘Idle hands are the devil's playground,' Irv cut back. He folded his arms. ‘Speaking of, you've been busy, Yancy. New skating hobby aside. What I want to know is which was it for? Work or play?'

Here we go.

Yancy fought for focus against the hailstorm of thoughts railing in his mind, willed himself not to break Irv's eye contact. ‘Neither.'

Sweat trickled down his neck as he squinted at the tech analyst under the hot Virginia sun. He'd known this would probably happen. Expected it, even. He was good. Bit rusty, but good enough to hack into FBI data, but even then, there were only so many ways to keep from leaving traces, and his best ideas were only ever going to be delay tactics, not magic, particularly with someone as good as Irv dogging his trail.

The image of Oboe running out of CiCi's house with the note tucked under his collar last year flashed into his mind. Then, the picture of Ayana playing on the swing set outside her new preschool. He blinked, squinted to try to hold eye contact with Irv even though the smiling image of Ayana as she held the chain links of the swing tight in her fists with pink-painted fingernails seared forward, threatening his focus.

Not now, cool guy. You practiced this
for
her! It shouldn't shake you, damn it!

Yancy swallowed hard. His gut instinct
had
been to tell Jenna. He'd made that mistake before, and he loved her more than his pride. But then, he'd gotten an e-mail with the picture of Ayana, swinging just feet away from where Yancy knew some combination of he, Charley, Vern, or Victor had stood, standing guard, ridiculous text safe words ready on their fingertips to reassure Jenna that Ayana wasn't within Claudia's grasp. He'd not only had to face the reality that their security was all an illusion of Claudia's making, that the picture was proof that, at any moment, she could swoop in and devastate them, but that a second reality was in play: everything Claudia had revealed to him and imparted to him was part of the game.

The story he'd prepared was decent, for his non-sociopathic self. One involving Jenna's ex-mother-in-law and the court battle over Ayana's collection of her father's life insurance and the files Yancy had supposedly needed to help the case. But somehow, with the moment here, confronted with the impossible cover-up he was about to face – as impressive and intricate as it might be in all the right places – it didn't feel as much the masterpiece of perfect deception it had in theory.

‘Come on, man,' Irv pressed. ‘You know I'm not walkin' away without knowing why the hell you hacked into secure government databases. I know you enough that I know you're not crazy. The skill to hack into FBI databases itself is proof you aren't stupid.'

God, I hope not. Here goes nothing.

Yancy took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and began to lie.

Twenty-two

As Dodd eased the SUV left to merge on to I-270 off the Capital Beltway, Jenna shifted in the passenger's seat and pressed the button to unlock the keys on her smartphone for the dozenth time. ‘Still nothing from Irv,' she reported, staring at the screen. Her message box was empty, the only new activity two missed calls – both from the same unknown number and placed right around the time they left Quantico.

‘Even geniuses need a bathroom break now and again,' Dodd replied.

Jenna half-laughed. ‘Maybe. But it'd still be nice to know if the cross-check turned up any connections between anyone at the bank scene and people involved at the Olney Theatre before we get there. Give us a better idea where to start. Besides, even with Saleda and Teva staying behind to work the victim profiles, any helpful info from those would get to us twice as fast if they had Irv to expedite the tedious stuff.'

‘And the stuff they can't get their hands on without him, too, you mean,' Dodd said, eyes on the road. He nodded. ‘Yep. Even the hardest workers need their bathroom breaks.'

‘That's what I'm interested in seeing
most
when we get there,' Porter grumbled from the backseat. ‘After an hour on the road, I need to find a bathroom before I can even consider a meet and greet.'

‘You smell that bad?' Grey said, her voice breezy.

Jenna tensed. While she and Saleda had decided it best she take Grey along, lest the team have to track her down again, and while Jenna never doubted all the ways in which the choice would make things easier, it'd complicate them in plenty of others. One of those becoming apparent was Grey's dislike of Porter. While Grey's offhand remarks could be just the product of a thought process akin to blowing bubbles on a summer day, her thoughts weren't always nontoxic fluff.

‘What?' Porter said, annoyance in his voice. ‘I just need to take a piss, Matilda, not a bubble bath.'

‘She knows that,' Jenna said, cutting him off. She shook her head. Grey had learned long ago that people viewing her as loony but harmless meant she could sneak in passive-aggressive jabs at them and get away with it. Eccentric definitely didn't equal naive.

‘Well, I've got news for you then, Matilda. Your book game might be on, but your comedy routine needs some work,' Porter replied.

Jenna couldn't see Grey behind her, but she could hear her heavy, quick breathing.

‘This must be the place,' Dodd said, making a right-hand turn into the modest parking lot across the street from the green-accented, white building of the Olney Theatre.

He shut the engine off, and they all climbed out. Hopefully whatever hunch they were here on would manifest results fast. The idea the group could've met here made sense with enough clues to give it weight, but this would either be a big break or a big waste of time.

Grey joined Jenna and Dodd as they started toward the theatre, still huffing angrily. Behind them, Porter slammed his door and caught up to them. Grey muttered something undecipherable under her breath.

‘Hey, if you can't take it, don't dish it out, brainiac,' Porter said evenly without facing her.

Grey stopped just short of the flight of cement stairs. Jenna's phone rang as Grey whirled to face Porter.

Jenna stepped between them and held a hand up to Porter, her other hand removing her cell from her pocket. ‘Please, Porter. Play nice. I'm gonna take this. It might be important.'

Jenna took three long strides away from the group, trying to ignore the man peeking out of the blinds of the window above them who had to be wondering who the heck they were. They hadn't exactly made an appointment. She'd explain after she took this call. She slowed, her heart thundering as she glanced at the phone again. The same unknown number. What if someone was trying to get in touch with her because something was wrong?

As she pressed the button to answer, questions flew through her head. Which safe words had she gotten when Ayana was at school? From who? Who was on duty to pick Ayana up, bring her home?

‘Dr Jenna Ramey,' she answered, swallowing hard.

‘It's about damned time. I've been trying to get hold of you for over an hour. If I didn't know better, I'd think you must've been on a plane and had it off or something,' a female voice chided matter-of-factly.

BOOK: Flash Point
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