Beneath the Truth Page 34


She’d rushed to my side and hugged me. “Oh, child, your daddy will always come home to you. Your mama wouldn’t let anything happen to him. She knows you need him more than she does right now.”

That night, Dad had missed being grazed by a bullet, and he and Mr. Hennessy were still talking about it when they walked in the door. At least, they were talking about it until Mrs. Hennessy had given them both the evil eye with a glance toward me.

I’d burst into tears and ran toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist and telling him he couldn’t ever get hurt. Dad had extracted himself from my wild grip, picked me up, and crushed me in his arms.

“You know I’ve got a guardian angel riding on my shoulder, Ariel. She’s going to make sure I get home to you no matter what.”

Please make sure he gets home to me, I pleaded silently again to the woman in the picture I’d never had a chance to know.

I backed away from the entertainment center and my phone blared to life, scaring the ever-loving crap out of me. I looked down at the screen at my brother’s name and froze before answering.

“Did you find him?” I answered it the same way I had before.

“Not yet. Still looking. Nothing on your end?”

My shoulders hunched, and I found myself crumpling into the couch again. “No. Nothing. Jesus, Heath. Where could he have gone? We have to find him.” My voice broke on the last part, and Heath’s breathing roughened.

“I know. We will. We have the whole friggin’ department, including the retirees, on the streets. Everyone is looking. We’ll bring him home. We will.”

I noticed he didn’t say safe, and I cringed.

I didn’t know if it was to make myself feel better or to remind Heath, but I whispered, “Mama’s watching him, and she’s going to make sure he comes home to us no matter what.”

“I know, Flounder. I know. I gotta go. Call me if he shows.”

“I will. Call me the second you or anyone else find him.”

“Of course. Love you, little sis.”

“Love you too.”

Heath ended the call, and it felt like my stomach had developed a new gaping hole. Helplessness wasn’t something I could handle. I needed to be doing something, or I was going to lose my mind.

My fingers itched for a computer, but my laptops were all at my place.

Heath has to have something here. I would have felt bad poking around, but I told myself it was to save my father and my sanity, so I forgave myself for the invasion of privacy, and I knew Heath would too.

It didn’t take me long to find his department-issued laptop tucked in its black case near the door.

A less desperate daughter would probably not consider breaking into a laptop that was technically the property of the police department, but I didn’t care. If he got in trouble for anything I did, I would take the blame and they could try to send me to jail. My lawyers would undoubtedly come up with a creative defense. I paid a big enough retainer to ensure it.

I pulled the machine out of the bag and set it up on the kitchen table. Already, just having the smooth keys beneath my fingertips made me feel more in control. As I turned on the power, I mentally sorted through the options of what would be most helpful, and decided on traffic cameras.

Was it a massive long shot? Absolutely. Without facial-recognition software, especially my proprietary version, the odds were like finding a needle in a haystack, but at least I was doing something.

I thought about the pet project I’d been working on for the last several months because I knew that people like Heath faced ridiculous danger daily just because they carried a badge. I was still working out how to give them the best defensive weapon I could. Information.

If the police had cameras on their cars or clothing that could automatically run every face they saw through a database and identify all threats, they would be better prepared for whatever was coming their way. I was still working out the bugs, as well as the legal and ethical issues.

If I were able to perfect it, it wouldn’t be a product I would sell. I would donate the technology to police departments nationwide.

Getting into Heath’s computer didn’t even take real hacking. His username and password were a variation on the same thing he’d always used—Chester16. It was our childhood dog’s name and his football number.

Come on, Heath. Time to step it up in the password arena.

But then again, it saved me valuable time.

Once I was logged in, it didn’t take me long to tap into the city’s traffic-camera system, being careful enough not to get caught but not so careful as to slow myself down. The number of options was overwhelming, but I went through the feeds methodically, choosing the ones closest to our house and working outward in a grid pattern, similar to what the cops were doing right now.

Where are you, Daddy?

Settling in, I finally felt less like I was going to throw up because I was doing something to help instead of wringing my hands and staring at the door.

We will find you.

28

Rhett

Two hours after I left Ari at Heath’s house, I was beginning to lose hope when no one had spotted him yet. I’d called in every favor I was owed, and checked in with all my old informants. It was full dark, and wandering the streets wasn’t safe for anyone right now.

And with the darkness, the chances of randomly spotting him went down dramatically.

My phone rang with a call from an old CI who worked security at the cemetery on Frenchman Street.

“Otis? You got something for me?”

“What was this dude wearing? Gray shirt and navy sweatpants? ’Cause I just ran off some guys with my truck who were kicking the shit out of an old man in the cemetery.”

“Fuck. Yeah, that could be him. He okay?” I yanked my steering wheel in the other direction, heading for Otis.

“No, man. He looks like he got the shit kicked out of him. You want me to call 911? I’m on the northeast corner. Remember the place those punks tagged my tombs? Close to that.”

“Yes. Fuck. Call 911. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

For a moment, I debated whether to call Ari, but I wanted to be sure first. If it wasn’t her dad, I didn’t want her hopes up. I’d know if it was the right decision soon enough.

I turned two more corners, and finally my headlights cut across the gray tombs of the cemetery. A flashlight beam waved in the air.

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