Point of Control (25 page)

A pause. “This isn’t my phone either. I took it from Shawn Crusher, a kidnapper and killer, and I wanted to see who was calling him from DC.”

Now it made sense. Bailey was one of the field agents who’d raided Crusher’s Washington operation. Jocelyn briefly explained her end as she pulled the NSA man’s wallet from his pocket and looked for ID. He didn’t have any on him, but Ross and his fellow agents would eventually identify him.

“You said he was NSA? Not FBI?” Agent Bailey sounded disappointed. “Someone in the bureau leaked information about my investigation.”

Jocelyn glanced over at the assistant director, now cuffed on the ground like a common criminal. “That would be Brent Haywood, the NSA man’s contact. We just arrested him too.”

“I knew it. The son of a bitch.” Agent Bailey said it calmly. “Do you know Haywood’s motive?”

Ross was peeling open a brown package filled with cash. How much had Haywood traded Zach Dimizaro’s life for? Jocelyn shook her head. “Money, what else? I have to go. I’m sure we’ll both catch up on the details later.” Jocelyn hung up, wondering if she would ever hear the whole story. Or would the FBI and NSA find a way to spin this? Good thing she was dating Ross. He might get access to at least some of the truth.

C
HAPTER
48

Wednesday, March 25, 3:55 p.m., Seattle, Washington

At the front desk of the Seattle field office, Bailey gave her name and asked for Agent Thorpe, who’d requested to meet her out front. She assumed he had something private to tell her.

“I’ll let him know you’re here.” The clerk made a call and turned back. “Well done up there at the mine, by the way. You’ve made quite an impression with our agents.”

Bailey couldn’t muster a smile. She was still bone tired from an all-night search of Crusher’s properties. She and the Seattle team had confiscated computers, lab equipment, and everything that could be evidence. By the time she’d made it back there in a sheriff’s car after chasing down Crusher, Dana and Garrett had already been transported out on a medevac helicopter. Dukko’s body had gone with them, leaving only Lee Nam to tell his part of the story. A Seattle agent had flown out with Nam this morning, headed to Washington, DC, to meet with the president for media photos. Bailey had been summoned to the White House as well, but she wouldn’t leave until tomorrow. She had to see Garrett first.

Thorpe walked up and shook her hand, not letting go. “I know I said it last night, but I’ll say it again. Thank you for finding my son. When I think about the gas and dynamite that bastard was going to use down there, I know how close I came to losing Garrett.” He squeezed her hand again. “You saved them all.”

She hadn’t been alone. “Dukko Ki-ha played his part.” The North Korean police officer had found the secret door to the underground prison and had given his life for his countryman. Dukko would go home in a body bag soon. It seemed unfair.

They took the elevator to a conference room on the second floor and joined a small group of agents, including the two women she’d met at the Thorpes’ house. This was the room where she’d first kissed Garrett. The thought made her happy. Garrett was picking her up after the meeting, and she couldn’t wait to see him.

After everyone was seated, Agent Thorpe said, “FBI director Robert Palmer will join us in about ten minutes via video, so let’s get everyone up to speed. I’ll go first.” Thorpe summarized both of his trips to the Palisades Mine, concluding with finding his ex-wife unconscious on the lab floor and calling for medical help. Then he added, “We’re still pulling together a timeline for Shawn Crusher’s illegal activities, but his wife is fully cooperating.”

With Crusher and both of his thugs dead, there was no one to question, no one to confess everything in exchange for a light sentence. Bailey hadn’t heard anything more about the NSA man Crusher had been working with. She looked at Thorpe. “Does Jia know anything about Crusher’s connection to the NSA?”

“In theory, no.” Thorpe struggled to keep his face impassive. “She says her husband referred to his financial backer as Max, so we believe Charles Max Damper, possibly with the help of the NSA, funded the whole market-takeover scheme.”

One of the women cut in. “Damper may have been in it for the money, but if the NSA was backing him, what was it about for the agency?”

Bailey had given it some thought. “Based on what the detective who arrested Damper told me, I have to conclude that Damper and Haywood wanted every phone manufactured to be accessible to law enforcement. By controlling the market and producing only encryption-free phones, they planned to make tracking and convicting terrorists easier.”

“What about Brent Haywood’s contact with Zach Dimizaro, who ended up murdered?” Thorpe had all the reports, but he was still looking for answers. “Weren’t Haywood and Damper both trying to acquire encryption software?”

“Yes, but for the purpose of getting it off the market and reverse engineering it. Supposedly, a few coders have created unhackable encryption, but with the original code, it can be cracked.”

“But why kill him?”

They might never know, but she’d analyzed Haywood’s actions and thought she knew. “For the same reason he was feeding intel to Damper at the NSA. He wanted to quash the new encryption. Some people in law enforcement put cryptographers in the same criminal category as hackers.”

“There was a witness who got a good look at him, so maybe the tech guy did too,” Thorpe said. “Maybe Haywood killed him just to cover his involvement.”

A beeping sound on the wall monitor indicated a call was coming in. Thorpe pressed the remote, and the big screen came to life, showing the FBI director at his desk. Bailey had met Robert Palmer once and thought he was handsome and sincere. People said that about her too, so it didn’t mean much.

“Thank you all for your great work on this case,” Palmer said, getting right to the point. “By locating Lee Nam before the deadline, you saved an innocent man’s life and possibly averted a missile crisis.” The director chuckled softly. “No one here in the capital thought to look for Mr. Lee in the other Washington.”

“You have Agent Bailey to thank for that,” Thorpe said. “She connected all the kidnappings and used some creative thinking to find the mine where they were being held.”

The director nodded. “I was just going to say that.” On the screen, his eyes shifted to her. “Special Agent Lennard resigned yesterday, so the CIRG needs a new special agent in charge, and we’ll talk about the position when you return.”

What?
Lennard had quit? Or had she confronted Haywood, who’d forced her out?
It didn’t matter.
The director was offering her the job she’d always wanted. The question burst out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Why did Agent Lennard resign?”

The director stiffened. “She said it was personal.”

A vague sense of discomfort overwhelmed Bailey. It wasn’t guilt, but what? Disappointment in herself? She had to speak up. “I told Lennard I suspected Haywood had leaked critical intel to Crusher. I think she might have confronted the AD and suffered the consequences.”

“You suspected Haywood?” His expression was hard to read. Admiration? Disbelief?

“Yes.”

“I’d like to discuss that more when you get back.” Before she could respond, Palmer added, “But now that the AD is no longer with us, we’ll review Lennard’s resignation.”

Oh hell.
There went her promotion. “I look forward to our conversation.”

The director’s expression shifted into funeral mode. “The news of Brent Haywood’s betrayal and arrest is shocking and demoralizing for all of us. But for me especially. I promoted him. I believed in him.” Palmer’s eyes shifted around the table. “I wanted all of you to know that Haywood made a complete confession this morning. He was driven by financial pressure and the misguided idea that his actions were for the greater good. We had hoped that with Haywood’s testimony, we would be able to convict Charles Damper too.” A long pause while the FBI director stared down at his desk. “But Damper was found dead in his cell this morning. He’d hanged himself.”

A few hushed murmurs from the room. Bailey was skeptical. She assumed the NSA had shut him up. She asked the director, “What happens to Crusher’s cell phone business? His rare earth mine?”

Palmer smiled with his eyes. “We’ll sell both businesses and use the money to fight cyber crime.”

Whatever brand the phones ended up with, she was sure they would be made without the unhackable encryption.

The director excused himself, and their meeting wrapped up shortly after. Bailey called Garrett to let him know she was ready.

On the drive to his house, she made polite conversation. “How’s your mother?”

“She’s stopped having seizures now that she’s back on her medication, but she’s still dehydrated and in shock. She’ll be in the hospital for a few more days.”

“I’m glad she’s got you to take care of her.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. “When are you going back to DC?”

“Tomorrow. I have a funeral service for a friend, then the director wants to meet with me.” She reached over and touched his shoulder. “This is our last night together.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

She loved hearing it, but being with Garrett was wishful thinking. “Long-distance relationships don’t work. We both know that.”

“What if I move to the capital? I can get a physical therapy certification anywhere.”

That surprised her. “You would do that? What about your mother?”

“I found out she’s dating someone. So I’ll stay with her just long enough to get her through the transition and back to work.” Garrett pulled off the street and shut down the engine. He turned in his seat and grabbed Bailey’s hands. “I love you. I want to be with you. And I can’t think of any reason we shouldn’t be together.”

She couldn’t either. He made her happy, and there were no downsides. Not for her, anyway. In her simple cost-benefit view of the world, that was all that mattered. “I love you too. In my own way. If you’re willing to make the move out east, I’m into h
aving a relationship.”

Garrett leaned in and kissed her. “Thanks for finding me. Both times.”

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

L.J. Sellers writes the bestselling Detective Jackson mystery-thriller series—a four-time Readers’ Favorite Award winner—as well as the Agent Dallas series and provocative stand-alone thrillers. Her seventeen novels have been highly praised by reviewers, and she’s one of the highest-rated crime fiction authors on Amazon.com.

Sellers resides in Eugene, Oregon, where many of her novels are set, and is a Grand Neal Award–winning journalist. When not plotting murders, Sellers enjoys stand-up comedy, cycling, and social networking. She’s also been known to jump out of airplanes.