Unauthorized Access (22 page)

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Authors: Andrew McAllister

BOOK: Unauthorized Access
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“Dumped you, huh? I’m not surprised, way you treat her.”

Tim rolled his eyes.

“I dumped her, Dad.”

“What made you think I was talking about Lesley? Isn’t she Rob’s girl?”

“She was, but they’re having troubles. You know, with Rob getting arrested and everything.”

“What’s that got to do with you?”

Everything
, Tim wanted to say, but as usual he took the safe way out.

“Nothing, I guess.”

Eldon just gave him a skeptical look.

* * *

Ray Landry grunted and leaned forward as another wave of cramps rolled through his gut. He gripped the steering wheel more tightly. They were getting worse. He could feel a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“You okay?” Rob asked from the back seat.

“Yeah, just gas or something.”

The Buick’s tires rumbled as they bounced along the rough South Boston street. The wipers slapped at the raindrops on the windshield. A chain link fence overgrown with bushes surrounded a Ryder truck depot on their left. Landry turned a corner and stopped in front of a similar fence with a doublewide gate and barbed wire along the top. A large metal sign on the fence proclaimed this to be
McCutcheon’s Truck & Heavy Equipment Repair.

Inside the gate was an empty parking lot in front of a dirty brick building with four oversized garage doors. McCutcheon’s had obviously gone out of business some time ago. Landry left the car idling as he got out and unlocked the shiny new padlock on the gate. He had cut the old one off earlier in the day when he had checked out the place. After driving into the lot, Landry swung the gate shut again and then parked in front of the building next to a steel door with a metal-grated window in the top half. A sign over the door said
Office
. He got out and opened the back door of the car for Rob, who stood up and gazed at the building with a look of bewilderment.

“What are we doing here?” Rob said.

Landry shrugged. “All I know is Steeves said to bring you here, so that’s what I’m doing.”

Rob looked around at the empty parking lot.

“But why? There’s no one else here.”

“He’s meeting us here soon.” Landry headed for the building. “Come on. Let’s go inside and get out of the rain.”

Rob couldn’t see where he had much choice. He followed Landry toward the door.

Landry had picked the door lock earlier and left it unlocked. He pulled the door open and held it for Rob to go ahead of him into the building. Once Rob passed him, Landry pulled out his nine-millimeter and smashed it into the side of Rob’s head. Rob crumpled to the floor. Landry stepped over him, then reached back to close and lock the door.

They were in an office space that contained a half dozen wooden desks, assorted office chairs and a few metal filing cabinets. A faded calendar still hung on the wall with a scantily clad pinup girl on the top half and November 2009 on the bottom. Landry flicked a switch and two rows of fluorescent lights added to what little light filtered in through the dusty windows.

Landry picked out a dilapidated wooden chair with arm rests and metal casters, and rolled it over to where Rob lay on the floor. Grasping one wrist, Landry pulled Rob away from the doorway, then reached under Rob’s shoulders to hoist him into the chair. Using the coil of nylon rope he had left on one of the desks earlier, Landry lashed Rob’s wrists and ankles to the chair.

Rob would awaken soon. Landry hadn’t hit him hard enough to do any serious damage. In the meantime, Landry pulled out his gun again, walked through the interior office door and searched the rest of the building to make sure the place was still deserted. The last thing he needed was for some bum to have happened upon the unlocked door and taken up residence.

Satisfied they were alone, Landry returned to the office, picked out a chair for himself and placed it in front of Rob. He was about to sit down when another bout of cramps made him grab his gut.

Landry scuttled as quickly as he could into the cavernous garage and spotted a tiny bathroom nearby. Dark brown stains lined the toilet bowl, but at least the thing had water in it. Landry fumbled with his belt and made it just in time.

Of all the times to come down with diarrhea, but then there was no such thing as a good time. Was it a flu bug? Or something he ate? He bent over as another wave of pain rolled through his insides.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
O
NE

ROB SHOUTED THROUGH the front doorway into Dysart’s house. “You have to listen to me.”

Lesley was in there. He could hear her moving around but she was staying out of sight. He stormed inside and tore from room to room. Why couldn’t he find her? He heard a scuttling noise in one of the bedrooms and hurried in that direction.

No good. The room was empty except for Leo, who was curled up asleep on the bed. Lesley hated it when the cat got fur on the bedspread.

But how could Leo be here? He never left Lesley’s apartment. Had she moved in with Stan and Sheila? Rob’s head ached. He couldn’t think straight. Had to get to Lesley. Had to explain.

Leo lifted his head and looked at Rob.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” the cat said.

The absurdity forced Rob abruptly back to consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly and saw he was in a dingy office. The man with the bushy mustache sat watching him. The memory of how he had ended up here flooded back—the flash of an FBI badge, the car ride, his feeling of unease. Rob’s neck delivered a sharp jab of pain when he lifted his head from the position where it had been slumped. His hands were numb from being bound to the armrests. Apparently he should have listened to that feeling of unease.

Leo and everything else about the dream was gone. Except the immense headache. That was still with him and pounding like crazy. He looked around at the office furniture covered with a solid film of dust. The desolation of the place gave him the creeps.

“What—”

Rob’s throat was raspy. He swallowed and tried again.

“What’s going on?”

The agent sat with his hands folded in his lap, looking completely relaxed.

“We’re going to have a little chat,” he said, “you and me.”

Rob looked at the rope binding his wrists. His feet were immobilized as well. He shivered in the unheated office, despite still having his hoodie on. Man, this was really messed up.

“Why the ropes?” he said. “Afraid I might run off before Steeves gets here? Or is this standard FBI practice when you don’t get the answers you want the first time?”

“I have some bad news for you,” Landry said. “I’m not an FBI agent and Steeves isn’t coming. It’s just going to be the two of us.”

A trickle of fear ran down Rob’s throat.

“You upset a lot of people when you sabotaged the bank’s computers,” Landry said. “Powerful people. Rich folks who stand to lose plenty of money if First Malden goes out of business.” Landry shook his head. “The one thing you do not want to do is get between people like that and their money. You’d be better off kidnapping their children than impacting their income statements. So they hired me to fix it, and now you’re going to tell me the keyword so we can make everyone happy again.”

“But I don’t know the keyword,” Rob said.

“That’s what you’ve been telling people, but that’s not going to cut it with me.”

Landry pulled an automatic pistol out of his jacket as he spoke.

“You see, with the FBI you have the right to say nothing. You can call a lawyer.”

A silencer came out of a jacket pocket. Landry began screwing it slowly onto the pistol.

“You can insist that your lawyer must be present during all questioning. You have the right not to have someone beat you.”

A final twist completed the installation of the silencer.

“Or not to have a bullet planted in your knee-cap. But none of that applies here. In this room, I’m the only one with any rights.”

Landry set the pistol on a nearby desk. Rob couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. The trickle of fear was now a torrent.

“You don’t have the luxury of pretending anymore, son,” Landry said. “Either you tell me what I want to know, and soon, or you’re going to learn things about pain that nobody should have to know.”

Rob’s mouth was completely dry. He was having trouble convincing himself this was real. But the ropes biting into his forearms were real enough, and he couldn’t kid himself into thinking he was going to wake up and find that pistol gone.

“I’d tell you the keyword in a heartbeat if I knew it,” he said. “I’m not stupid. But you’ve got to believe me. I’m not the one who attacked the bank. Someone planted a bunch of evidence to make it look like it was me.”

Landry looked slightly amused. “Framed, huh?”

Rob nodded eagerly, his eyes wide.

“You mean I should be talking to someone else,” Landry said.

“Yes, but I don’t know who it is. I mean, I’ve been trying to figure it out. It must be someone who works at the bank, but I can’t think of anyone who would want to—”

Landry was out of his chair in a flash. He crossed over to Rob with one long stride and slapped him with a vicious open-handed blow to the side of the face. Rob’s head rocked back and a white flash of pain exploded in his head. The entire left side of his face stung as if pierced by thousands of needles.

“You’re wasting my time,” Landry shouted at him.

Rob scrunched his eyes shut and bent his head forward, trying to think through the angry buzz that filled his head. When he opened his eyes, Landry was still scowling at him.

“Don’t you think I’d tell you if I could?” Rob said. “I would have given the keyword to the FBI if I knew it. I don’t want to go to jail.”

Landry moved forward and Rob flinched.

“No, wait. I’m telling the—”

The left hand this time. It landed on the same spot the pistol had hit earlier. The side of his skull felt like it might cave in. Rob tasted bile in the back of his throat. He forced it back down with only the greatest of efforts.

“Talk to me, Rob, or it’s only going to get worse.”

* * *

Lesley grabbed several pairs of socks from the drawer and dropped them into the open suitcase on her bed. Leo immediately jumped into the suitcase and started wrestling with a pair of socks. He held them with his front paws and dug furiously with both back paws.

Her mother leaned against the side of the bedroom doorway, watching her pack.

“You really think this is a good idea?” Rose said.

A handful of panties landed on top of Leo. He rolled on his back to deal with the impudent newcomers.

“I have to, Mom. I’ll go crazy if I stay here.”

“You don’t have to go to Stan and Sheila’s place. Why don’t you come home with me?”

“I want to be here in town.”

“But you said you’re not going in to work for a while.”

Lesley held both palms up to her mother.

“Mom, I just can’t, okay?”

Rose shrugged. “Maybe the reporters will back off soon.”

“Are you kidding? One camera crew has already shown up at the door.”

“But how long is that likely to go on?”

“You have no idea how tenacious we newsies can be. As long as the public has an appetite, they’ll keep digging.”

Lesley deposited Leo on the floor and started adding sweaters and T-shirts to the suitcase.

“You saw how many messages are piled up on my machine.” Lesley leaned on her bed and looked at the digital display of the answering machine. “Twenty-eight, and that’s after I stopped answering the phone.”

“Shouldn’t you listen to the rest?”

“I can’t be bothered,” Lesley said. She headed for the closet to look for a pair of jeans that weren’t in her dresser. “The first bunch all wanted interviews. I’m sure the rest will be no different.”

“But what if someone is trying to reach you?”

“The whole world wants to reach me.”

“No. I mean someone you want to talk to.”

She found the jeans under her yellow Forever 21 sweater. She grabbed both for good measure.

“I don’t want to talk to anybody,” Lesley said.

“Fine. I’ll listen to the messages.”

Rose sat down on the bed, hesitated for a moment, then found the correct button. Lesley continued to stuff the suitcase, only half listening when the messages started to roll. As she suspected, nothing but people wanting a piece of the cyberterrorist’s girlfriend.

Then one voice caused Lesley to stop with a pair of pajamas in her hand.

“Hi, it’s Tim. Dad said you called. Sorry I missed you. You can call me back at home.”

Lesley blinked. She didn’t remember calling Tim. Her mother gave her a triumphant look.

“See?” Rose said. “I told you they wouldn’t all be reporters.”

Lesley threw her mother a look of annoyance. “Do you have to be such a know-it-all?”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“You’ve been this way ever since Rob was arrested. Like you know exactly what I should do.”

Rose’s mouth pursed into a small rosebud. “Well, after all, you’re so happy. Who would need any help in your circumstances?”

Lesley threw the pajamas into the suitcase in an untidy ball.

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