Unauthorized Access (27 page)

The next song on the album started playing.
King of Pain
. How appropriate.

Kirsten chewed on one side of her lip, her face growing pensive.

“You didn’t do it, did you?” she said.

Rob paused in mid-chew and stared at her, his mouth too full to respond.

“The thing at the bank, I mean,” she said. “You’re not the one who messed up those bank accounts.”

Once his mouth was empty, Rob said, “What makes you say that?”

Kirsten rubbed her hands together in her lap. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“You must have some sort of reason.”

“You,” she said, “and Tim.”

Rob just looked at her, his brow furrowed.

“When I heard you were arrested,” she said, “my first thought was, that can’t be right. Rob wouldn’t do that. Then … the timing bothered me, you know? First I see Tim act all happy about the attacks, then the very next day you get arrested and Lesley dumps you.”

“Coincidences happen all the time.”

“Or he knew it was going to happen.”

“There’s no way he could have known that unless he was the one who—” Rob stopped and blinked.

“Exactly,” Kirsten said. “That’s what’s been bugging me.”

“Look, someone made good and sure all the evidence pointed to me. They had to work at it—break into my apartment, use my computer, stuff like that. Even if Tim did sabotage the computer, why wouldn’t he pick someone else for the fall guy? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“So you didn’t do it.”

Rob’s pulse was tripping along at high speed. He still held the second half of the sandwich in his hand.

“No,” he said, “and I can’t believe Tim did either.”

“I already told you he wanted you out of the way.”

“Because of Lesley?”

“Uh huh.”

“That’s crazy. He and Lesley dated for, like, two weeks back in high school. No big deal. And he’s one of my best friends.”

“You may think he is,” she said, “but he sure doesn’t act that way when he sees the two of you together, especially when he doesn’t realize anyone’s watching.”

Rob put the sandwich back on the plate. He didn’t feel hungry anymore.

“Besides,” Kirsten continued, “not many people know you and Tim like I do. I can see Tim doing something whacko. But you?” She shook her head. “Doesn’t fit.”

“Not much to go on.”

“Call it woman’s intuition.”

“So I’m supposed to go to the police and tell them my friend is framing me, and my only reason is woman’s intuition.”

Kirsten looked down into her lap where her hands continued their wrestling match.

“I don’t
know
anything, all right?” She looked up again, directly into Rob’s eyes. “But I couldn’t stand thinking about this stuff without telling you. I thought you might know some other things and if we put them together … well, who knows.”

Rob took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Whoever did this probably works at the bank.”

“Which would fit—”

“Tim. Yeah, I know, and a bunch of other people as well.”

“Would you have thought any of them would do this to you?”

“No,” Rob said.

“So whoever it is, it’s going to be hard to believe.”

“Yeah, but … Tim?”

The turntable clicked off as the record came to the end. Kirsten got up to put on a different album. Rob could smell her perfume. The fragrance brought back memories of the many lazy weekends he and Kirsten had spent together when they were a couple. The funky precision of Supertramp started playing, still at low volume. They had made love to that album many a time.

“That album brings back memories,” Rob said when Kirsten plumped back down on the couch.

Kirsten smiled. “I guess it does.”

An awkward moment passed while they both looked anywhere but at each other.

“Know something?” Rob said.

“What.”

“You’re the only one who believes I’m innocent … well, except for Dad. But parents are supposed to have faith in you. I think they sign some sort of contract when you’re born.”

“Unless you became a whole new person from the guy I used to know,” she said, “there’s no way you could do something like that.”

A lump formed in Rob’s throat. His face felt warm.

“Thanks,” he said.

She nodded and they spent a few more moments in silence. It seemed less awkward this time.

“Where will you go tonight?” she said.

“Good question.”

“You can stay here if you want.”

Rob thought about going back out into the storm and decided he wasn’t going anywhere.

* * *

The Buick turned into the parking lot of Rob’s apartment building and cruised slowly into an empty slot. The engine shut off but no one emerged from the car. Ray Landry sat in the darkness for a while, studying the lay of the land with the engine ticking occasionally as it cooled. Once he was satisfied the place was as deserted as he could hope for, he got out and walked over to Rob’s Pathfinder. He reached one hand briefly inside a rear wheel well, and then returned to his own car.

Landry picked up a GPS device from the passenger seat and placed it on his dash. He clicked it on and a small screen glowed with a map showing Landry’s location. The map also indicated the position of Rob’s car, which Landry’s device received by radio signal from the unit hidden in the wheel well of the Pathfinder. The radio had a range of six or seven miles, which was plenty to allow Landry to tail Rob around the city if need be. At the moment both indicators showed the same location since the two vehicles were so close together.

The Buick purred to life. Landry drove a couple of blocks away, pulled over to the side of the street and checked again. The map now showed the cars in two different locations, along with a readout in the corner showing the distance between them.

He nodded in the darkness, turned off the device and rolled into the night.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
F
IVE

Saturday

TIM HEADED FOR the kitchen with a scowl on his face and a bad case of morning breath. He ignored his father, who was already camped in his chair and having a wake-me-up cigarette in front of CNN. Tim couldn’t be bothered taking the time to make coffee, so he poured himself a glass of orange juice. He returned to the living room and slouched in an armchair for the express purpose of using the tube to numb his mind.

It was not to be.

“How’d your bike ride with Rob go yesterday?” Eldon said.

“Fine.”

Tim’s eyes never left the TV.

The elder Whitlock squinted at Tim and took a pull on the cigarette. He blew out the smoke and then said, “Who pissed in your corn flakes this morning?”

Tim ignored him. He was still smarting from how Lesley had shot down his idea of going away for the weekend. Maybe he had pushed too hard. She wasn’t ready yet. He’d have to take it easier, gentle her along. Still, that was one incredible kiss. He could still feel her body mashed into his. Something to build on, for sure. So why did he feel like he had blown it?

“You and Rob must’ve had plenty to talk about,” Eldon said, “what with the stuff he’s got going on.”

Tim wiped orange juice from his upper lip.

“That’s all you talk about lately,” Tim said.

“I figured you’d be the first one clapping Rob on the back. You’ve complained enough about them idiots at the bank.”

Tim’s eye’s narrowed. “You really think he did a good thing?”

“After how them bank bastards screwed up our entire economy? Someone should pin a goddamn medal on his chest.”

Tim swiveled his head and gave his father an appraising gaze. Was it possible Tim had just received a second-hand compliment?

“What would you think,” he said, “if I had done something like that?”

Eldon’s cigarette paused halfway to his mouth. He lowered it and looked at Tim.

“What?” his father said. “You mean some computer hacker thing where you end up in jail?”

“Well that’s what Rob did, right?”

“You wouldn’t be so stupid.”

The contemptuous look on his father’s face made Tim bristle. He had seen that look many times and loathed it.

“Oh,” Tim said, “so when Rob does it, he should get a medal, but if I did it, it’d be a stupid thing to do.”

Eldon gave him a dismissive wave of his good hand.

“It’d be stupid no matter who did it.”

Tim’s face grew hot. “But that’s not what you said. According to you, it’s only dumb if I’m involved.”

“Whatever,” Eldon said.

“I’m tired of you putting me down like that.”

Now the irritation showed plainly on Eldon’s face as well.

“Who cares,” he said. “It’s not like you’d have the guts to take on the bank like Rob did anyway.”

Tim ground his teeth together. Rising from his seat, he hissed at his father.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He hurried out to the kitchen and grabbed his keys from the hook in the hallway. The door slammed behind him as he left.

* * *

Dysart put the carton of orange juice back in the refrigerator and returned to the glass he had just poured. He took a sip and considered adding a shot of something stronger. Normally such a thought wouldn’t occur to him so early on a Saturday morning but things were anything but normal. He had barely slept all night. His head felt like it was stuffed with pink insulation and soon he had to go to the bank to deal with one unsolvable crisis after another.

His special cell phone rang, causing Dysart’s heart to pitter pat a little more quickly. He snatched the phone up and said, “Talk to me.”

“I finally caught up with the cab driver,” Landry said.

“And?”

“He dropped our young man off last night out in Newton. Corner of Centre Street and Allerton Road, not far from Newton Center. There’s a bunch of houses nearby but the cabbie didn’t see which one he was headed for.”

Lesley shuffled into the kitchen looking bleary-eyed. She raised one hand in mute greeting to her uncle

“So no success yet?” Dysart said, keeping his words purposefully vague for Lesley’s benefit.

“I was hoping you might know who he’d be going to see in that neighborhood.”

“How should I know?”

“Anyone you can ask?”

Lesley put two halves of an English muffin in the toaster.

“Absolutely,” Dysart said. “I’ll get back to you.”

He hung up.

“Who was that?” Lesley said.

“No one you know. How are you feeling?”

She shrugged and pulled a tub of margarine out of the refrigerator.

“I still haven’t heard back from Rob,” Dysart said.

“I’m not surprised. He’s making a habit of acting weird lately.”

“He said one thing when he called last night that might be a clue as to what’s going on.”

The English muffins popped up. Lesley started spreading. Dysart took her silence to mean she was still listening. He carried on.

“Do you know anyone who lives handy to Newton Center, near a street named Allerton Road?”

“Something about that name sounds familiar.” She put her plate on the table and went to get a glass from the cupboard. “Why do you want to know?”

“That’s where he wanted me to take him.”

Lesley paused with empty glass in hand and thought for a moment, then her brows knit and a rose of indignation formed on her face.

“Son of a … I’ll kill him.”

“What?” Dysart said.

“It figures he’d run to her.”

“Who?”

“Kirsten Glanville. Rob went out with her when we broke up for a while in college. She lives right around there someplace, or at least she used to.”

“Do you know the address, or her phone number?”

“Who cares,” Lesley said.

“I might. Rob sounded upset last night when he called, like he was in some kind of trouble. I’d like to at least talk to him, find out if he’s okay.”

“Oh I’m sure he’s well looked after.”

“So has she got an apartment or what?”

Lesley sighed. “Yeah. Up on the third floor of this huge old house on Allerton.”

Dysart kissed her on the forehead.

“Enjoy your breakfast,” he said.

He left her to glower at her untouched food and headed for the privacy of his home office to call Landry back.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
S
IX