“Every time our computer people think they’re closeto uncovering something more in Zimmerman’s computer, they realizethere’s another firewall…or a back door,” Hank muttered. “My guessis he’s giving them the runaround.”
Adrian wondered about that. “Or he has someone elseon his payroll. A hacker. Someone with the skills to breach DoubleDown’s firewall and plant whatever he wants inZimmerman’s computer.”
That meant he could get into their phones as well.And maybe even the FBI’s system. He could even be listening rightnow.
There had to be a way they could use that to theiradvantage. Not the first time he’d had the thought about feedingthe blackmailer misinformation. That had been in order to let theblackmailer know the sick child was no threat to him. But theblackmailer had the child killed. Maybe that was a mercy. In somestates it was legal. But not without the mother’s consent.
This was murder, pure and simple.
And one part of a big mess they had yet tounravel.
Megan said, “So if he’s disillusioned and strikingback at authority, whether he’s the blackmailer or Zimmerman issimply following orders, where is he going to strike?”
Adrian had driven to the freeway, and he was headingin the direction of Chicago. It would take a few hours but if thatwas the flight Zimmerman had boarded, then Adrian wanted to be asclose as possible.
Eventually he and Megan were going to have to stopand rest. The day was waning, and he wouldn’t be able to drivethrough the night. He was already exhausted. And he figured Meganwasn’t in a much better state than he was.
“That’s the question.” Hank wrapped up and ended thecall.
Megan shifted in her seat. “All that fornothing?”
“The hospital?”
She nodded. “No flash drive. The cops have tointerview the kidnapper but if the blackmailer had him come here toclean up, then I highly doubt he knows anything.” She sighed. “Thisguy is too good to let something like that slip through the cracks.He probably has safeguards on his safeguards.”
Adrian shifted his grip on the wheel. Cruise controlwas on, but he didn’t want to lose focus. Especially not when hewas this tired. One thing she’d said stuck with him, though. “Cleanup.”
“Huh?”
“Well, that’s what those guys were doing burningZimmerman’s house down. They didn’t want us to find anything there.Cleaning up all the blackmailer’s loose ends.”
“But we thought the blackmailer was Zimmerman,” Megansaid.
“Now that we think he isn’t, we can surmise that theblackmailer is burning Zimmerman’s life. To make him some kind ofscapegoat. He has the sonic weapon, he’s the obvious fall-guy.Recently divorced. Not doing well at work.”
“So what does the blackmailer have on Zimmerman that forces him to do what he says andpotentially destroy something, kill people?”
Adrian worked his jaw side to side in that way hismom had never liked. He could hear her reproof in his head, he’dheard it so many times. “Whatever it is, he tried to circumvent theblackmailer and get you a message.”
Megan shook her head. “This makes no sense. It’s notlike we know each other. Why pick me?”
Before Adrian could suggest something, his phone rangagain. Zimmerman could’ve picked Megan for several reasons. She wasa kindred spirit to him. Or he felt like owed her. Or he wanted tohurt her, by dragging her in.
The call was from an agent he worked with. He tappedthe SUV’s dash screen. “Walker.”
“Hey.” The man’s greeting was short. “Call just cameover the wires. A think tank contracted by the government justexploded outside of Peoria, Illinois. We’ve got destruction anddeath. Emergency services just arrived on scene and the word is theplace is a total mess. The whole building collapsed.”
Chapter8
Megan got out of the car, eyes glued to the utterdestruction. She stared for a moment hardly able to processeverything she was seeing. Finally, she managed to blow out abreath.
Adrian moved beside her and shut the door she’d leftopen. He waited, not saying anything.
“How many people are dead?”
“Two.”
She turned. “Two?” One death was a tragedy, but she’dexpected the number to be a whole lot higher than that.
Adrian shrugged, a concerned look in his eyes. “Youwant to wait in the car? I can check in with the agents here andget what we need and then come back. If you want.”
Megan shook her head. “I’m good.”
This might not be her job anymore, but that didn’tmean these people couldn’t use both of them. The agents, and thetwo that had been killed. She owed it to all of them to lend herskills to find out why Zimmerman had targeted this place.
Why the blackmailer had forced him to.
She was more convinced now than ever that theblackmailer had compelled Zimmerman to take the weapon and use itfor his aims. “Did Hank say if they ever found Zimmerman’s wife andkids?”
He’d said they weren’t able to locate them. But thatwas, what, yesterday? She could hardly process the passing of hourswith everything they’d been through.
Adrian pulled out his phone. “I’ll ask.”
She took a few steps and tried to assess where theFBI was at in their processing of all this. She didn’t envy anyonethe job of sifting through rubble while they prayed no more bodiesshowed up.
Adrian moved to her side again. He walked with hertoward the FBI command center that had been set up. An RV—kind oflike the Double Down one that had been destroyed by theblackmailer.
An agent stepped out. Older than them, probably lateforties. Dark hair and eyes, Hispanic coloring. He glanced from herto Adrian and recognition flared in his eyes. “Walker, right?”
Adrian nodded. “This is myassociate, Megan Perkins.”
She shook the guy’s hand.
“Agent Ramirez.”
“Nice to meet you.” She smiled as much as she couldthrough the exhaustion.
Adrian said, “Can we assist?”
Ramirez said, “There isn’t much to do here, but I dohave a job if you’re willing to lend a hand.”
Adrian nodded. “I can putyou in touch with the SAC at my office, and you can verify. This isconnected to a case I’m working on, so we could use insight intowhat happened and why.”
“I’m happy to brief you,” Ramirez said. “And the jobis interviewing Terrence Almonde,
