The Christmas Clue. Delores Fossen
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Matt greeted. He winced when he heard Ronald give a groggy yawn. It was past 10:00 p.m. and obviously bedtime for some. “Sorry to wake you, but this is an emergency of sorts. I need you to run some thing on our old pal, Dominic Cordova. I’d like to know if he’s become a father in the past six months.”
That stopped Ronald in midyawn. “A father?”
It wasn’t just a simple question. Ronald wanted to know what had precipitated this call. But Matt didn’t want to get into that yet. So he trimmed down the details of an explanation and hoped it would suffice. “Yeah. I’ve heard rumors that he adopted a child.” He paused, because he had to. “I’ve also heard rumors that this baby might have a connection to Vanessa.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. But like I said, it’s probably just a rumor.” Or an out-and-out lie.
“I’ll check,” Ronald promised. “And then I’ll call you right back.”
“Thanks.”
Matt pushed the end call button, slipped the phone into his pocket and looked at her. Her face wasn’t hard to miss since she was right there in front of him. They were practically standing on each other. Way too close. It was time to do something about that, so Matt stepped around her. Unfortunately, his arm swiped her right breast, causing her to suck in her breath. Matt ignored both the swipe and her reaction, and he headed into the kitchen, figuring she’d follow.
She did.
“Too bad you’re not a Navy SEAL,” she mumbled. She brushed her fingers over the tiny one-foot mini tree that had come predecorated with about a dozen tacky ornaments. It was his sole attempt to recognize the holidays. “I hear they’re fearless.”
Matt just glared at her. “That won’t work.”
“What won’t?” she asked innocently.
“Insulting me.”
She scratched her eyebrow. Auburn eyebrows that didn’t match her now-chocolate-brown hair. “I was actually trying to goad you.”
“That won’t work, either. So, talk to me about this so-called evidence that’ll exonerate you,” Matt insisted. If there was anything to it, and that was a huge if, he could pass on the info to the authorities once she was in custody.
“Surveillance disks,” she answered. “Dominic records everything that goes on in every room. And I mean everything. Since the murder happened in his office at the estate, I’m sure some information about it will be on one or more of the disks.”
Matt didn’t even try to suppress a loud groan. “And I’m guessing there are plenty of these disks?”
“Hundreds in a vault in the basement. I have the code to get into the vault. That’s not the problem. The problem is, according to someone who’s familiar with the estate, Dominic only keeps each disk one year. That means if I don’t act fast, he’ll erase any evidence I can use.”
He leaned slightly closer. “That isn’t helping your case, you know.”
“You mean because if Dominic records everything, then the sheer volume will make it impossible for us to find the evidence?”
“You,” he corrected.
“You what?”
“You said it’ll be impossible for us to find the evidence. There is no us in this delusional plan, only you.”
“Oh, there’s an us all right.” She shook her head, and sent a lock of her chin-length hair sliding across her cheekbone. “The little blond-haired girl in that picture changes everything.”
“No. She doesn’t.”
And Matt was almost positive he believed that.
Cass Harrison apparently thought otherwise because she just stared at him.
“Okay,” he said trying a different angle. “Let’s suppose for argument’s sake that there is disk evidence. How do you intend to get it?”
“We will use equipment to jam Dominic’s disk surveillance feed. After that, we can gain access to the basement. Since covert measures are your specialty, that shouldn’t be a problem. Then, we’ll open the vault and search through the disks until we find what we’re looking for.”
Matt bypassed the last half of what she said and groaned again. “Equipment? What kind of equipment?”
“That’s another area where I’ll need your help. I don’t have access to the kind of equipment necessary to bypass Dominic’s state-of-the-art security system, and it’s not something I can buy.”
Matt really didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. “But I do have access?”
She made an of course sound. “Don’t make me quote questionably obtained intel reports about the recent rescue of an American businesswoman who was being held hostage in South America. The only way the military and the Justice Department could have gotten her out was if they’d used the exact kind of jamming equipment that we need.”
He scowled at her. “And you think the Justice Department just leaves this equipment unsecured so anyone can use it?”
“No. But I think you can get it if it becomes necessary. And guess what? That little girl in the picture makes it necessary.”
Matt leaned in. “Yet another example of totally faulty reasoning. Or maybe it’s just a lie.”
She groaned. “I wish you’d stop accusing me of lying.”
“Sorry.” An apology Matt definitely didn’t mean, and his tone conveyed that. “It’s just that I get a little testy when someone breaks into my house, holds a tranquilizer gun on me and then demands that I steal classified equipment, break ranks and join in a halfassed, stupid plan that would almost certainly get both of us killed.”
“It’s not a half-assed, stupid plan.” But then she paused, shrugged. “Okay, maybe it does have some half-assed, stupid elements to it, but I’m doing the best I can with what I have. And what I have is you, Matt Christensen. You’re a highly trained federal agent. You can get us into that estate.”
In most cases, that would be true.
But not this time.
Judging from the intel reports he’d read, Dominic Cordova’s estate was a fortress. With reason. The man had enraged at least a dozen people, criminals, who killed as easily as they breathed. And that kind of situation made a person paranoid about security.
“Why didn’t you just ask the authorities to check out Dominic’s place, huh?” Matt asked. “If the evidence is there, they could find it—legally.”
“First of all, the authorities wouldn’t believe me. And if by some miracle they did, they wouldn’t risk offending their new ally by requesting the necessary documents to do a search of his estate. Plus, I’m about ninety-nine percent sure there’s a leak in communications. I think Dominic may have an insider in the Justice Department, and this person might be feeding him official information.”
Interesting. Matt hadn’t heard that particular accusation. Perhaps because she’d just made it up. He certainly wasn’t about to assume it was true. “Is that a guess, or do you actually have proof?”
“Proof. I did a test a few days ago and phoned in some bogus info to a person I thought I could trust in the Justice Department. Then, I timed it. In less than an hour, Dominic received a call on his secure line at his estate. The caller spoke through a computer voice scrambler so I have no idea who he or she is, but the person relayed the bogus info verbatim to Dominic.”
Matt considered all of that and decided it could mean nothing. It did, however, warrant some further investigating. “Do I dare ask how you gained access to Dominic’s secure