Chase seemed to consider that for a moment before nodding. “I see your point. We’re missing something here.”
“Obviously.” Tate walked over to the shelving unit nearest the computer desk and chose a heavy cardboard box at random. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and something in one of these boxes will help us figure out what we’re missing.”
“Wouldn’t it be a better idea to check out the computer first?”
Tate set the box on the desk and took off the lid. “Probably, but I don’t have the first clue how to hack a computer. How about you?”
Chase lifted a brow. “You’re kidding, right? I don’t even have a password on my computer at home because I can never remember it.”
“That’s why I always write mine down,” Tate agreed, pulling out his phone. “I’ll have the intel people back in DC hack into it from their end while we dig through these boxes.”
The cop walked over and selected a box. “If we open up the first few of these boxes and find nothing but old tax records, I’m going home, and you can find your own way back to the hotel.”
But they didn’t find old tax records. Instead, they discovered a good portion of Mahsood’s adult life chronicled in photos, newspaper articles, awards, personal letters, and lab journals. The stuff led them on a convoluted journey as a man with a promising medical career decided to create monsters for money for no other reason than because he could. Tate understood Bell and Mahsood had been involved, but he couldn’t understand why Bell would keep crap like this in his basement. If anyone had ever seen it, somebody would be going to jail. Or losing their medical license at least.
“Damn. You have to look at this,” Chase said from where he sat on the other end of the table, folders scattered everywhere. “I did not see this coming.”
Tate pushed his chair back and walked over to Chase’s side of the table. While he’d focused his attention on the past ten years of Mahsood’s life, the deputy had been sorting through the stuff from his college days.
Chase held up a picture that stopped Tate in his tracks. At first, he thought he was looking at Ashley, but then he realized it was a very young Rebecca Brannon cuddled in the arms of an equally young Mahsood. The doctor’s jet-black hair was longer than it was now, and he had his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest to show off several gold necklaces.
“Yup, Mahsood and Rebecca used to be a thing,” Chase said with a laugh. “Pretty serious based on the number of photos in here.”
Tate took the picture, looking more closely at it. Rebecca and Mahsood were leaning against the railing of an outdoor deck. The fancy house it was connected to was just visible to one side while the blue-green water of a sun-dappled lake comprised the rest of the background.
“Any idea how long they were an item?” he asked Chase.
The cop motioned at the folders on the table. “Maybe four or five years, most of it while they were in college. There are lots of pictures of them at that house, wherever that might be. It seems the relationship ended when they were both in their midtwenties.”
Tate thought about that for a moment. “If I remember right, that’d be about the time Rebecca went into politics.”
“Hmm. So Mahsood was good enough for a college fling but a liability when it came to a political career?”
“Probably,” Tate agreed. “Twenty-five years ago, I don’t think people would be so accepting of their differences.”
Chase grunted and jerked his chin at the medical journals Tate had been reading. “Anything good on your side of the table?”
“Depends on your definition of good.” Tate reached across and picked up the journal he’d been skimming. “On the bright side, Mahsood kept meticulous notes. Unfortunately, that means I’ve been reading page after page of exactly how he experimented on Ashley and everyone else he managed to get his hands on.”
Chase’s face twisted. “When did it start? On Ashley, I mean.”
“When she was fourteen.”
Tate leaned back on the table and flipped through a few pages. He couldn’t believe someone would write all this depraved shit down. It was like Mahsood thought it was completely normal.
“Rebecca ran off to Europe when she got pregnant with Ashley, and Mahsood never mentioned a father in here, so I have no idea who he is,” Tate said, forcing down the sour taste in his throat. “She hid Ashley with some loyal family servants, and for a while, that was the end of it. But when Ashley turned fourteen, the couple made the mistake of mentioning she was special. Rebecca took her away from the couple and had her thrown into the mental institution. Let’s just say Mahsood was excited to have the opportunity to study something so completely new and different. According to this journal, he was also thrilled to be back in Rebecca’s life and have her unlimited financial backing to do anything he wanted. And he definitely did anything he wanted.”
Chase shook his head. “Did Rebecca have any idea what he was doing?”
Tate flipped a few more pages until he got to a photo of Mahsood and Rebecca at the institution. “If what Mahsood wrote in here is true, they had frequent meetings to discuss his progress, especially in the past few years when he was developing his hybrid serum.”
“Good to see she overcame her concerns about their ethnic differences so they could work together again,” Chase said sarcastically.
Tate snorted. He wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them sat on the deck of the lake house in the photo Chase had shown him sipping wine and discussing how to experiment on Ashley next.
“So, what now?” Chase asked.
Tate had been thinking about that himself. Maybe he could figure out how to get this data to Kendra and the
