BLACK in the Box (18 page)

“If I see your cat…” he called out.

“I know.”

Black spotted Nancy working with Kyle near the appliance section. She threw Black a smile as he neared, but quickly grew serious when she saw his expression. Kyle picked up on it too and edged away.

“I’ll be back in a few. Got to check on some things,” Kyle said.

“Good idea,” Black agreed.

When he was out of earshot, Black stared hard at Nancy. “Seems like you haven’t told me everything, have you?”

“I…what are you talking about?”

“Come with me.”

“I’m working.”

“Not anymore. You and I are going to have a little chitchat, and you don’t want the entire store hearing it. Trust me on that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Follow me,” Black ordered, steel in his tone.

Once seated in the break room, Black leaned forward. “What did you do in Alec’s files?”

“What?” Nancy appeared genuinely puzzled.

“We know you accessed them, Nancy.”

“What files? I didn’t even know where he stored any he had…”

“His computer files. Come on. Jig’s up.”

Nancy tilted her head, a quizzical look on her face. “Mr. Black, if this is some kind of weird technique to get me to blurt out something, I’m afraid I don’t have anything to blurt. I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re referring to.”

“Someone accessed Alec’s files after he was dead. To do so they needed his password. That brings us to you.”

“Alec never told me his password. Why would he?”

“Because he trusted you. Because you were engaged to him.”

“You didn’t know Alec. First of all, I would have no reason to access anything online in his files. Second, he wouldn’t tell anyone. Not me, not Mary, nobody. He was kind of super-paranoid about cyber-security. That was his job, you know?”

“So you’re saying it wasn’t you?”

“That’s right. But what time did it happen?”

“Four a.m.”

“See, you should have checked the police report before you went off half-cocked. I was being questioned by the cops at four. So it couldn’t have been me.”

Black’s demeanor cracked for an instant. “I can verify that, you know.”

“I would hope so. I don’t like being accused of something I didn’t do.”

They stared at each other, at a standoff, for an uncomfortable moment.

Black shook his head. “Who else could it have been?”

“What do I look like? Sherlock Holmes?”

“Why exactly are you so sure that Mary wouldn’t have it? She was his manager, wasn’t she?”

“I knew Alec. But why not ask her?”

“Because she’s dead.”

“What?” Nancy’s reaction transitioned from shock to crestfallen. Black watched her closely as she went pale and her lower lip began to tremble.

If she was acting, she should have been nominated for an Academy Award. Faking that response was impossible. Her eyes welled with moisture and she turned away.

“Oh, God…”

“Nancy, help me out here. Do you have any idea how someone could have gotten the password?”

She shook her head. “N-no, Mr. Black.”

“Where were you two hours ago?”

“Here.”

“Did you notice anyone missing?”

“Not really. I mean, people are constantly coming and going, you know? On breaks, going in and out of the back, smoking… How did Mary die?”

“The police are still trying to figure that out,” Black dodged.

“I…I mean, she was just here.”

“I know.” Black paused. “Were you close?”

“Not really. But…Alec, now Mary…”

“Can you think of any link? Something in common?”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God. Are you saying she was murdered?”

“Just answer the question.”

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Nancy said, rising.

Black had been prepared for anything, but not that. He stared at her wide-eyed as she fumbled with the door. “Come right back,” he instructed, but she was already gone.

He shifted uncomfortably on the hard chair and eyed his watch. Five minutes later Nancy reappeared, only slightly more composed, her eyes red and her face shiny. When she sat back across from him, he adopted a softer tone.

“You think Bethany might have known his password?”

“Bethany? Why would he tell Bethany anything?”

“Nancy, we know about the drugs.”

“Mary died of an overdose?”

“Let’s leave Mary out of this. We know that Alec used meth.”

Nancy frowned. “You’re not going to trick me into admitting that.”

“You don’t have to. We already know it. A tox report will show it in his system.”

Black could see her rapidly calculating. “If that’s true, why are you badgering me?”

“I want to save some time. There’s a killer out there, and I can’t find him if I don’t have all the facts.”

“Wait – you think this is about drugs? That Alec was selling meth? That’s…that’s nuts.” Her mouth set into a thin line. “Alec liked to party, but he wasn’t a dealer. You’re way off base with that.”

“So you say.”

“Why would I lie?”

“To protect his reputation. Because you’re afraid you’ll be arrested for lying to the cops. Because you use too and don’t want to admit it. Because you know more than you’re letting on. Should I keep going?”

“Mr. Black, there’s a limit to how much of this I’m going to take. You were wrong about Alec’s password, and you’re wrong about me.” She stood. “I don’t get paid enough to put up with this shit.”

“Don’t you want his killer caught, Nancy?”

“Of course I do. But I won’t listen to you slander a guy you know nothing about.”

“Then why don’t you tell me more about him?” Black tried.

“I’ve already told you everything I know. I mean, I was engaged to him, you know? I loved him, and I had to watch him die in front of me. After all that, you come at me with this crap? What kind of human being are you?”

Nancy stalked out, leaving Black speechless and staring as the door slammed behind her.

Chapter 35

The secure receiving area of Home World was enshrouded in gloom as a figure moved along the rows of newly arrived merchandise before stopping in front of a pallet stacked six feet high with cartons. A box cutter made short work of the tape that secured the top row, and the figure moved the nearest container off the pallet and placed it on the floor. Three quick swipes of the blade opened it, and gloved hands lifted the flaps to reveal the contents.

A small black light flickered to life, and the figure shined its beam into the interior of the box. After a few seconds, the figure moved to the next box on the top row and repeated the procedure.

At the fifth box, the lamp beam froze on the contents. A symbol glowed in the eerie light, marking the side of one of the smaller containers inside.

The figure removed the item from the carton and continued the search. Ten minutes later, five more boxes sat next to the one the figure had first removed, each identical to the naked eye.

After pausing and listening to ensure that nobody was nearby, the figure wheeled a cart laden with other boxes, indistinguishable from the ones on the floor, to the pallet, and repacked the master cartons before placing them back onto the heap. Once the cart was reloaded, the figure pushed it back into the shadows, where it sat with twenty others, some laden with products, others empty.

The clang of the security gate closing reverberated off the concrete floor, leaving the darkened area empty and silent again, no trace of the intruder’s passage other than the distant beat of footsteps fading away.

~ ~ ~

Black returned to Roxie with a defeated air, disappointed that his tactic had yielded nothing but emotional trauma for a young woman for whom he should have had compassion. He felt about two inches tall and, worse yet, was no closer to discovering the truth than he’d been before the bit of ill-advised theater.

Roxie was humming to herself when he pushed the door open, and she glanced at him without interest before refocusing on the screen. He sniffed the air and walked to where he’d left the coffee, now tepid, and carried his half-full cup back to the desk.

“She didn’t know anything,” he reported.

“You mean she was able to withstand your scathing interrogation skills?”

“No, I mean it wasn’t her. She was being questioned by McCarthy at four.”

“Bummer. Guess you need to give the client back the money, huh? Minus my five hundred, of course.”

“Very funny.”

“I should have made it a grand. If I’d known I would have to sit here and endure the stink of your poison, I’d have doubled it.”

“Kind of you to take pity on me.” He looked at the screen. “You mentioned you had something else?”

“Did I?”

“This isn’t the time, Roxie.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’m not sure it’s related, but it looks like someone’s been cooking the books.”

“Cooking, how?”

“Well, it’s clever, but it looks like someone with access has been skimming cash. Not a lot. Just a few hundred here, a few there. Kind of small time.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. I just invented it to give us something to talk about besides your fashion sense – if you can call it that. But like I said, beats me how it ties into the axe thing.”

“Or Mary?”

“Well, the last entry was this evening, so it was probably her. I can’t see any of the other employees being able to access that area of the database.”

Black probed the cut above his eye with his fingers and made a face. “Starting to hurt.”

“You should have put ice on it.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“I can buy some of those boo-boo gel packs with the animal faces on them for you, if you want. For next time.”

“Your generosity never ceases to amaze me.” Black scowled. “How would someone get Alec’s password without him telling them?” He gave her a summary of his discussion with Nancy.

“Sounds like that went well,” she said.

“I’m not expecting a Christmas card. Any ideas?”

“Maybe a key logger.”

“What’s that?”

“Program that logs keystrokes. Hence the confusing name: key logger.”

“They have those?”

She shook her head. “You really don’t know much, do you?”

“Not about technology. That’s not news. Is there some way to check for one?”

“Of course.” She paused. “I should really be charging by the task.”

“Do I get a refund every time you drive me crazy?”

“Afraid not.” She stared at him. “Was there anything else?”

“You were going to check for the logger.”

“It kind of creeps me out to have you watching me while I work.”

“Which is presumably why you do so little of it in the office.”

“Ooh, you made a funny!”

“Just check.”

“Did I tell you you’re cranky tonight? Is your arthritis flaring up? Or are you backed up? I know when the weather changes older folks have problems. Got a little logjam going?”

“I’m cranky because a pile of pallets almost killed me.”

“Don’t forget your girlfriend booted you.”

“She didn’t boot me, but thanks for the reminder.”

“Which is why Mugsy’s carrier is here.”

“I told you, she didn’t want to watch him.”

“Yeah, I sort of put the whole thing together on my own.”

Black sighed and took a sip of his lukewarm drink. Roxie continued to stare at him with dead eyes.

“Were you sent by Satan to test me?” he asked.

“No, that’s your prostate.”

“Roxie…”

“Okay, okay. Just stop – the pressure’s getting to me.”

“Please do it.”

“I told you, having you look over my shoulder gives me the heebie-jeebies. Is that your phone ringing?”

“My phone’s not ringing.”

“Maybe you should take the call. It’s probably someone with a clue telling you to leave your long-suffering assistant alone so she can get her work done and go home.”

“How long will it take?” Black asked as he rose.

“I need to unlink the thermos-coupling on the static phase adapter and then unscramble the encryption algorithm booster. It’s probably a Lempel-Ziv fractal in the allocation tables.”

“That means come back in a few minutes?”

“Make it fifteen. I’d say don’t unless you have Mugsy, but if he’s got any sense, he’s probably hiding.”

“I’ll see if I can hear snoring.”

“Your cut looks like it’s getting infected. I hope you don’t die.” She paused. “I mean, you will, at some point, but not before you find Mugsy.”

“Does it really?”

“Maybe nicotine will help.”

“Or bourbon.”

“One day at a time, boss.” She spun back to the screen. “So sad…”

“I’m not an alcoholic, Roxie,” he admonished from the door.

“Acceptance is the first step.”

Chapter 36

“All right, Ms. Collins, watch your head,” the female officer warned as she assisted Bethany from the back of the cruiser. Miraculously, she hadn’t thrown up, her stomach empty from earlier.

She was booked into the system and taken into the back of the precinct to the drunk tank, where several other contrite unfortunates waited with hollow eyes. Bethany didn’t have any protest left in her. Her head spun as the floor shifted like the Catalina ferry in rough water, and she took a seat on one of the pair of metal benches, rubbing her wrists absently where the skin was abraded from the handcuffs.

The booking officer had asked her if she’d like to make a call or wait until later, and she’d wisely opted for postponing it, painfully aware that her lifeline, Larry, would probably be less than receptive to hearing from her after seeing the damage she’d done. She didn’t know who else to call, though. Her mother had no money and lived in Chula Vista, which might as well have been New York, as far as it seemed now. Her roommates wouldn’t help, she already knew.

She was screwed.

Bethany sobbed quietly in self-pity. The sounds and smells revolted and frightened her. She’d only been arrested once before, but she’d been in and out in hours, alone in a holding cell, the charges ultimately dropped.

She fancied herself as tough, but the other women in with her looked like hard cases, no strangers to the system, likely high as well as inebriated. Bethany sneaked a look over at them, blinking away tears, and then her head swam and she felt her stomach contracting again. She barely made it to the stainless steel toilet at the far end of the room before she retched, but nothing came up. She stooped over the seatless bowl, a long strand of saliva drooling from her mouth, emanating misery until the spasms passed.