Honor (25 page)

Linc felt cold in the stuffy room. “Evil eyes, yeah. Could be a coincidence, though.”

Mike Warren nodded. “Just figured you’d want to know.”

Linc thought about it for a few moments. “So Jeri spoke to him? I guess she didn’t get a screen grab.”

“She didn’t mention it or the detective didn’t write it down. Take your pick.”

“Did she leave a number?”

The lieutenant gave a resigned shrug. “Caller ID pegged it as a pay phone. She didn’t want to get that close.”

“Hmm. So we can’t follow up. Sounds like a long shot anyway.”

“Agreed,” Mike said. “But it’s interesting. Sometimes you get a random thing like that and isolated facts hook up, boom. You can get warrants, make arrests, charge someone. Build the kind of case that a prosecutor likes.”

“How close are we?” Linc asked.

“Not very. Right now this is still tagged as a hit-and-run. You’re the one who sees a connection—” Mike held up his hands when Linc opened his mouth to protest. “Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m inclined to agree with you. But I can’t prove a damn thing yet.”

Linc fell silent.

“There’s only one witness to that accident besides the perp,” Mike went on. “Christine. The victim. And she can’t tell us anything yet.”

“She worked at SKC. There are X-Ultra files on this machine.” Linc rapped his knuckles on the black metal cover.

“Which reminds me—it is now officially a stolen laptop. Reported to us, serial number and all.”

Was that the real reason Mike was here? Linc didn’t ask.

“By, um ...” The lieutenant flipped through his notebook. “Melvin Brody. Christine’s boss.”

“Give him my regards.”

Mike ignored that and pretended to read other pages.

“I’m keeping it,” Linc said. “Kenzie and I heard from a reliable source that there are problems with their armored vests. Serious problems. Christine had to have known.”

“That’s a guess.”

“There has to be a connection,” Linc insisted.

Mike groaned. “Pretend you’re me and you’re talking to the DA,” he said. “There’s a bad accident, looks like a hit-and-run. A woman who works for SKC, the biggest employer in the county, was in the car. You believe that an SKC subsidiary is making defective gear and wants to shut up anyone who says so.”

“That about sums it up, yeah.”

“Conjecture. Not evidence.”

“I’m looking for more of that. So are you. So is Kenzie—I mean, she’s going to check out photos and video footage, try to ID the guy she saw. What I have so far isn’t as clear as it could be. And we’re going to test the vests.”

“Go ahead. You can do things I can’t and you have connections I don’t. But stay on the right side of the law.”

Linc shot him a questioning look.

“No hacking into SKC servers,” Mike clarified. “Unreasonable search will get the case thrown out of court.”

“If you’re so worried about that, why not just give the laptop back to Christine’s boss?” Linc asked.

“Ah, Melvin Brody wasn’t too polite to me. And I’m pretty sure you can get into their system without it anyway.”

Linc grinned. “You’re right.”

“Don’t.”

“I heard you, Mike.”

“Just trying to do my job, pal. I can’t decide if you’re my secret weapon or my worst nightmare.”

“Mike.” He paused. “I don’t work for you.”

“No, you don’t. But we have to work together.” The lieutenant eased down in his chair, stretching out his legs. “I’m really glad we’re having this talk.”

Patronizing comment. Linc wished he hadn’t invited Mike in, even though he liked the guy. He just hadn’t been expecting a lecture. To be fair, he’d given Mike an opening. The man wasn’t wrong.

“You mentioned video footage.”

Linc thought back. He had. Throw him a bone, he told himself. Then you can get back to the SKC stuff.

Or better yet, lie down. The hard workout with Kenzie was still echoing in his muscles. Or maybe it was the brief moment of physical reconnection between them at the park that was doing that.

“Linc?”

He came back to his senses. “Uh, yeah. The reporter on the scene, Gary Baum, was very helpful. But like I said, the footage isn’t that clear.”

“Let’s look at it anyway.”

“I figured the other driver might’ve come back, so I concentrated on that activity around the accident and after.”

“Sometimes they do.” Mike Warren straightened up in his chair.

“You want to see it?”

“Yes.”

Linc pushed the SKC laptop aside and moved to his own, booting it up. “The driver that stopped is—well, take a look at his car yourself. I didn’t see any damage.”

He showed Mike the freeze-frames from the video and then let the footage run in slo-mo, then at normal speed.

The lieutenant got up and dragged his chair over to the table, sitting in front of the laptop. “Can I see the first part again?”

“Here ya go.” Linc remained standing, reaching out to tap the keys. “What do you think of this guy? You didn’t say.”

“The one in sunglasses?”

“There’s something about him. Can’t say what exactly. Half the time he’s turned away or his face is in shadow. Then that cop has to go and stand in front of him.”

Mike didn’t seem to care. “Look at that. You got a nice clear shot of the back of the car. Can you enlarge it?”

“Sure.” Linc tapped a key for a close-up. “Notice the leaves on the license plate? Probably glued on.”

Mike shook his head. “I was checking out the tires.”

Linc swallowed a fly. He knew what Mike was getting at. Hadn’t occurred to him.

“Go bigger. And bigger than that.”

Linc clicked the Command key and the plus sign several times. The tread pattern filled the screen.

“Very interesting,” Mike said. “Could be identical to the tread marks from the second car that pulled over under the maples.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Linc muttered.

“Well, I do have to check this freeze-frame against the tread photos from yesterday. Routine. For a detective. I was good at it. That’s why I made lieutenant, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

Mike chuckled. “Now, if you could do the same thing for the front right fender—that’s it. Great. A little closer.”

He peered at the image. “I’m seeing evidence of a dent there. It doesn’t take much of a hit to make another car swerve out of control. He could have pulled over to bang out the worst of it.”

Linc grudgingly conceded the point. “But the finish looks okay.”

Mike put his index finger on an imaginary nozzle. “
Shpzzz.
Spray paint. Black on black. Who’s going to notice?”

“I should have.”

“You got the footage, pal. Good work. We make a great team.”

Linc could hear his father’s voice in his head.
Don’t ever think you have nothing to learn.

“Can you copy it for me, Linc?”

“Sure.” He had some blank discs left over from making the photo CDs for Mrs. Corelli. “Maybe you’ll find something else I missed.”

It only took a few minutes. Mike didn’t talk, just watched.

“Should be useful,” he said when the CD ejected. “Solid evidence like this is what we need. As far as the guy in sunglasses, he’s going to be tough to ID. He could be wearing a rug, you know.”

“Have to ask Kenzie on that. Women can spot fake hair from a mile away,” Linc said.

“Even if she did, eyewitnesses get things wrong. Best to get something that can be scientifically proved to have come from the individual, something unique. Fingerprints are still good. DNA is even better.”

“The creep’s ahead of us,” Linc pointed out. “He doesn’t even lick his envelopes.”

Mike sighed. “Let’s see what I can find out about the tire tracks.” He put his notebook and the CDs in an outside pocket. “Thanks. Sorry if I interrupted you. Looked like you were working.”

“I never stop.”

“Keep it up.” The lieutenant clapped him on the arm and left, closing the door behind him.

Linc headed for an armchair, wishing he could stop. His cell phone rang. He couldn’t ignore it.

He looked at the screen, not recognizing the area code or the number. What the hell. Maybe he’d just won a cruise or a couple of free daiquiris at the local tiki bar.

“Hello.”

“Guess who this is. Guess where I am.”

Deke. Linc heard reggae music thumping in the background.

“You there, Linc?”

“Yes.”

“Did you guess?”

The music got louder. Deke hummed along with it. Linc wondered if the brunette from the wedding was there with him.

“No idea,” Linc said.

“I’m at a top-secret location in the Caribbean at a highly classified party. Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here. What are you doing?”

“Working hard. Knock yourself out.” Linc hung up on him.

Linc cracked the door of Office 25, prepared to be chewed out by Chet York, the nominal head of the project he was supposed to be working on.

Unless he got lucky.

If his CO, Dana Scott, had sent Chet to a far corner of Fort Meade for the day, Linc had nothing to worry about. She’d cleared Linc to work off the base in the first place.

Dana firmly believed that tech wizards needed time off now and then to keep their heads from exploding. She should know. She was married to one.

He opened the door all the way.

“Hey, Dana.” He gave her a huge smile.

“Come on in.” She didn’t look up. “Don’t tell me where you’ve been. It doesn’t matter.” She pulled up a document that he recognized. He had coded it. Dana pointed to the screen. “Nice work. Where are you going with this?”

He told her, and added a few brilliant suggestions for improving his contribution that made her smile back. Finally.

It took him an hour to get around to the most important reason for his return.

“You want more time off?” She pushed the laptop away and made full eye contact. Dana didn’t do that often.

He explained why, down to the last little bit of information. Dana Scott lived and breathed information. She liked data she could really crunch, just for the sheer pleasure of crunching.

“SKC, huh? The name came up in a meeting at the agency. But I didn’t hear anything about defective gear.”

Linc explained more. He’d cobbled together PDFs and documents to add substance to his formal request to proceed. Chet York would have asked for the file and stuck it in his in-box. Dana Scott actually read everything in it with blinding speed.

“Not much to go on, Linc,” she said after a pause. “You need to run some tests on a statistically significant sample.”

Those were her favorite words. Dana liked data but she loved statistics.

He told her how much one vest would cost. No discount for buying in bulk. Not sold in stores. He didn’t want SKC to know that he was a designated secret shopper for the government.

She did the math and sat back. “Are you kidding me?”

“No. It’s a lot of money, I know.”

“For cripes sake,” Dana groaned. “Where am I going to hide an expense like that? I’ve got a congressional committee that wants to play Twenty Questions with me, and I have to justify every nickel we spend on Project 25. This has nothing to do with it.”

“I need a new identity too.”

Dana scowled at him. “It isn’t Halloween yet. And Bob and Betty Taxpayer don’t want to foot the bill for your cute costume.”

“This is important. Maybe more important than Project 25.”

Dana read through his formal request again. “Yeah. It is. All right. You know the drill.”

“Refresh my memory.”

“Have Andy write up a bio for you and design a fake website. Check the beta before it’s up, please, so he can make corrections. And memorize it. We’ll goose the page rankings so it looks like you’re legit.”

“Great.”

“He can set you up with new ID and business cards and whatever else you need. Buy a good suit.” She looked with distaste at Linc’s jeans and jacket.

“I need an advance.”

Dana took a platinum credit card out of a slim folded purse on the table. “Put it on this. Same goes for the vests. Get a car and driver too. Don’t use ours.” She handed over the card. “There’s no limit. Go to town. But get receipts.”

“Is my new name Dana Scott?” Linc asked.

“Why not? You know it’s not really mine. No one outside the agency and the man I love knows who I am.”

“Thank you. Very much.”

“Don’t grovel,” she said absently, pulling her laptop back in front of her. “It’s a giveaway. Act like you could buy SKC if you felt like it. For cash.”

“I will.”

She took the trouble to give him one last look. “Buy a
really
good suit. So good your own mother wouldn’t recognize you.”

“You don’t know Sheila Bannon.”

“All right, whatever. We’re not trying to fool her, are we?”

Kenzie had missed his call. The message Linc had left baffled her.

“Hey. I have to drive out to Fort Meade and show up at work before they forget what I look like. Next time you see me I’ll be a new man.”

A day had passed before he’d called again. And now she was meeting him for lunch at a nice restaurant down the road from Hamill’s. He’d said something about the fast food place, which was closer, being nowhere near good enough.

Carol let him through the gate. Kenzie, preserving her dignity, didn’t look through the windows of her second-floor room. But she heard Carol’s squeal and the other woman telling Linc how good he looked.

She went down the stairs and opened the door to the outside.

He did look good. In fact, he looked amazing. The dark suit he wore emphasized his powerful frame and height, and fit him perfectly. This was a new Linc. She almost wanted to sniff him to make sure it was the same Linc.

An expensive aftershave wafted her way as he strode toward her. She noticed the haircut. Just right.

He grinned at her. There was something about the conservative suit that brought out a touch of the devil in his grin.

Kenzie felt a little underdressed. She had put on a pretty dress, just in case, but she didn’t have heels to go with it, only flats in a matching color.

“You look gorgeous.”

He was being a sport. “I think the word applies to you, Linc.”