Page 52 of Witness Security Breach

This situation wasn’t going to fix itself, and dwelling on Charlie wasn’t helping.

He walked up to the concierge desk as if he was a guest staying there. “Hi. Where’s the business center?”

The clerk directed him to a comfy lounge with living room furniture, computers and printers. The lounge flowed into a twenty-four-hour coffee shop. Since it was communal space, the Wi-Fi was free, and he wasn’t even asked for a room number to access the internet.

After he bought coffee and a premade packaged sandwich from the coffee bar, he settled in at one of the computers for a long haul. It’d take time to carefully sift through the drive. If they had any hope of winning this, they needed to know who they were going up against.

He had to concentrate on their current problem. Clearing their names, which also meant finding Edgar, alive.

Then he’d take the job as an instructor. Go to Camp Beauregard. Rehab. The only way to get over Charlie... Killinger. That was how he’d think of her from now on.

And she’d have to find a new emergency contact.

SITTING IN THE passenger’s seat of the Crown Vic, Devlin sipped his hot coffee, grateful for the shades shielding his eyes from the early-morning light.

“That should do it,” Detective Carol Jenkins said, switching off the recorder on the dash. “Thanks for answering all of my follow-up questions.”

“No problem. I just want to help in any way I can. It’s awful what those marshals did.”

“Yeah.” Detective Jenkins nodded. “It makes everyone in law enforcement look bad.”

“The one thing I can’t stand is a dirty cop. Or marshal, for that matter.” He took another hit of much-needed caffeine, trying not to choke on his lies. At 7:00 a.m., his brain was still fuzzy, but deception came naturally to him. No effort or thought required. “Thank you for the lift to the airport and for understanding about me needing to catch an earlier flight.”

“Of course. Who hasn’t had a family emergency? I’m sorry to hear about your brother-in-law’s heart attack.”

When Jeff had called Devlin, hysterical, his brother-in-law had sounded as if he was going to have an actual coronary. Those marshals had some audacity to waltz into their place filled with cops and beat Jeff for information. At least they only broke his finger. They could’ve broken his arm.

The good news was his plan was working.

His worst-case scenario was Yazzie and Killinger being arrested. The flash drive seized. Stuff went missing from evidence rooms more often than civilians would imagine. Hell, if he could sneak out weapons and bricks of cocaine, he would’ve found a way to smuggle out a tiny thumb drive.

But luck was on his side. The best-case scenario was in play. The marshals were virtually bringing the drive to him. He owned that city.

Now that he knew they were there, he’d find them.

Smoke them out if necessary while Devlin’s friend here in San Diego would tie up the loose end of the wife at Mission Medical.

“Detective, if you’ve got any other questions, I’m happy to answer them over the phone or even Skype.”

She nodded, pulling up to the terminal. “What time does your plane land?”

“I’ll be home by lunchtime. I’ll take my sister out for a bite to eat, give her a break from the hospital.” He’d have lunch all right, but not with his sister. His first stop would be Avido’s, to ensure Big Bill made the initial payment.

“I wish I had a brother as thoughtful as you.”

He shrugged. “I do what I can.”

“I hope your brother-in-law gets out of ICU and recovers.”

“Thanks. We’re all fighters in my family.” The strong survived. “I’ve got a good feeling that he’s going to pull through.”

IT WAS LATE morning by the time Aiden finished reviewing the evidence Edgar had hidden. After asking the concierge where he could buy a USB nearby, he dashed down a block and bought one. This city was great. Everything at his fingertips.

There was enough information on the drive to fill an encyclopedia. He copied about a chapter’s worth to the new memory stick and printed some choice documents on Walsh and his hostile business partner, Romero, that, when put in the right hands, would send them to prison for a very long time.

On his way back to the hotel, Aiden swung by a restaurant. Grabbed breakfast sandwiches, beignets and coffee with chicory, black for Killinger and au lait for him.

He put his key card in the slot. The little green lights flashed, the lock released, and he opened their room door.