She's an Easy Target, page 9
part #2 of Quinton Target Series
“Oh, I see,” he said, but still didn’t seem to appreciate the humor in it. “By the way, your room over the garage was locked, so I couldn’t search in there.”
“I’ll take care of it,” she said.
“One other thing. Even though I didn’t find any electronic devices installed, the computer server scan Dr. Bit initiated earlier tonight revealed the security system was hacked. That means whoever broke in would have remote access to all our security cameras. I turned off the cameras until Dr. Bit has a chance to remove the software they installed.”
The other three cohorts looked at each other with concern but didn’t say anything right away.
“... Why would anyone want to hack my systems?” Dr. Bit said.
“It has to be the NSA,” Mad said. “Most likely Blaire Saunders was ordered to do the actual install, but she must’ve had help.”
“Stop right there,” Dr. Bit said. “I know you don’t trust Chloe, but she had nothing to do with it.”
“I’m not accusing anybody yet, but you need to at least consider it and be on the watch going forward.”
“If Blaire broke into my house at the direction of the NSA, who attacked her?”
“Maybe Upshaw found out the NSA was investigating them again,” Rasputin said. “Or, one of their partners from China doesn’t like the NSA spying on them and decided to take matters into their own hands.”
“I’m too tired to speculate tonight,” she said. “I’m going to check my room for electronic devices and then get some sleep. We’ll get together tomorrow and figure out what to do next.”
Without debate, L. Ron and Rasputin headed to the front door to go to their homes and Dr. Bit moved gingerly toward his bedroom.
“Are you OK? Your walking like a ninety-year-old man.” Mad said.
“I’m good. Latent effects from my bar brawl.”
“You get a hot girlfriend and all of a sudden you’re a badass,” she said and smiled.
“I don’t think I have the temperament, or the physical attributes required for that persona.”
“You need to work on your lingo, too. A badass doesn’t go into a self-analysis about his temperament. He grunts or says nothing and gives an icy stare.”
“I’ll work on it.”
“You do that.”
***
Lieutenant Mad entered her access code and waited for the door to unlock. When she heard the latch click, she turned the knob. Once inside, she flipped the switch to turn on the light. Her inspection began with an initial sweep. She walked slowly around the room, listening for any telltale click or buzz from a motion-sensitive camera. Other than a buzz from a fluorescent lightbulb in the closet, all was quiet. The room was tidy and uncluttered with very few potential hiding spaces for spying devices. She checked behind the lone painting hung on the wall, examined the sparsely filled bookshelf, removed the cushion from the chair to look beneath it, searched the dresser and nightstands, and checked the closet and bathroom. Lastly, she lay on the floor and looked under the bed. The visual inspection of the entire area revealed nothing out of the ordinary except for dust balls that had accumulated under the bed.
Next, she turned off the lights and searched the dark room for any red or green lights often present with electronic devices to indicate an on or off condition. Nothing was revealed. With the room still dark, she shined a flashlight on the walls and ceilings. On the wall across from her bed, she spotted a barely visible reflection. Moving closer to the wall, she could see what she thought was a pinhole camera. She took a small jackknife from her pocket and carefully dug it out of the wall.
She turned the lights back on for the final step, which was to use a spread spectrum detector to search for waves being emitted by surveillance devices. The detection equipment was silent until she brought it close to a four-foot-high door, which was situated in the section of her room where the garage roof slopes downward. Lieutenant Mad had forgotten that the door led to a storage space along the eves. When she opened it, sitting amid some clutter was a black box. A power cord ran from the box to an outlet that was part of a light socket. On the side of the box was a red button which was labeled TEST. With her finger shaking, she pressed it. Immediately, she heard, “Mind reading activated.”
It wasn’t a mind control device like the one that the intelligence agency had used to drive her half crazy when she was with military intelligence, but she still felt violated. The feeling swelled within her and evoked a response of rage. She removed the box from the space, slammed it to the floor, and stomped on it until it was in pieces.
She walked to her window and looked outside to see if there were any vehicles on the road which might be hiding a remote control to trigger the operation of the device. None were present.
She would need Dr. Bit to review his servers to determine if software had been installed to allow the device to be controlled over his home network, but it could wait until morning. The black box couldn’t harm her in its current condition.
All Lieutenant Mad wanted to do at that moment was to escape by crawling under her bedcovers, curling up into a fetal position, and going to sleep. And, that was what she was about to do when her mobile phone rang. She looked at the screen before deciding whether to answer.
It was Quinton Target.
Chapter 16
She was tired, angry, and frustrated but when she saw the call was from Quinton, Lieutenant Mad couldn’t quite force herself to ignore it and stay huddled beneath her blankets.
“QT, I didn’t expect to hear from you again tonight. Is everything OK with Blaire?”
“Yes, she’s what the medical folks call resting comfortably. Translated for us dummies, it means they knocked her out with painkillers and a sedative.”
“I’m surprised you’re not asleep.”
“I was about to dose off in the chair. Did I wake you?”
“No, I was still wide awake.”
“I was wondering if I could ask you for a big favor.”
“What type of favor?”
“The clothes Blaire was wearing when we found her are in a bag in her hospital room. They’re in no condition to be worn if she gets released in the morning. Is there any chance you could go to my townhouse, pick up a few things, and drop them off at the hospital?”
“As you know, I don’t own a car. But I do have a license — with a name you wouldn’t recognize. Dr. Bit’s asleep. He wouldn’t mind if I borrowed his car. Your townhouse and the hospital are a short distance away.”
“I’d go myself, but I’d like to be here in case Blaire wakes up. It’s unlikely she will, being so doped up, but just in case.”
“Of course, you need to be there for her. Is the townhouse door unlocked?”
“I was hoping you still have the key I gave you when you stayed in my place last year.”
Lieutenant Mad opened her dresser drawer and nestled beneath her underwear was a key, which she retrieved. “I forgot about that. I have the key.”
“You forgot about the night you stayed there or that you had the key?”
“The key.”
“Good. I’d hate to think you’d forgotten about our time together. I haven’t.”
“Give me about a half-hour. What’s the room number?”
“Stop in front of the hospital when you get here and call me. I’ll run down and get the clothes from you. That way you won’t have to go into the parking garage.”
“Anything else?”
“I received your texts.”
“A lot has happened since I sent those texts.”
“Yes, it has. I’ll run that photo of Chloe against the government databases tomorrow. I don’t know how deeply she’s involved in last night’s events, but I think she’s connected in some way.”
“Dr. Bit won’t want to hear that.”
“I won’t jump the gun. She might be with one of the legit intelligence agencies, same as Blaire, blindly doing whatever she’s ordered to do.”
“I’ve been there and done that. Never again.”
“Did Dr. Bit finish analyzing his network and computers and do a sweep of the house?”
“Yes.”
“What did he find?”
“He removed spy software from the computers and changed all of the important passwords. The only electronic device installed in the house was in my room over the garage.”
“Was it a camera and voice recorder?”
“There was a pinhole camera and a black box that supposedly reads brainwaves and translates them into what people are thinking.”
“I’d like to have the device analyzed if that’s alright with you.”
“I can give you the pieces. I’m afraid I went off the deep end when I found it and smashed it.”
“Maybe a tech can at least find the manufacturer and learn something about the device’s capabilities from that.”
“I’ll bring it with the clothes.”
“It seems like I’m always getting you knee deep in a bunch of crap, when all you want is to be left alone.”
“I’m not that innocent. When I see abuses by the intelligence agencies or greedy corporations, I sometimes insert myself where I shouldn’t.”
“Then let’s work together where we can. I need to stay within the law, but I won’t idly stand by when I find abuses of power within the government.”
“I’ll help where I can,” she said.
“... It seems like you and I have incredibly bad timing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t abandon Blaire after what’s she’s been through. I don’t know if what has happened will bring us closer together or farther apart. Time will tell.”
“I have no expectations. You haven’t led me to believe there’s an us in the future. I live a day at a time.”
“Whatever happens, I’m building up a big debt with you for all your help. If you start showing up at the Mudhouse, at least I can pay some of what I owe by buying you coffee and Danish.”
“We’ll see what happens. As I said, I’m trying to take it a day at a time.”
Chapter 17
Quinton took in a deep breath and held it for a few moments before letting it out in a puff. He was slouched down in the visitor’s chair with his head tilted back and his legs stretched out to the max. He took another deep breath but instead of exhaling in a puff, he made a few clicking noises in his throat before jolting awake. After rubbing his eyes, he looked toward the hospital bed and was surprised to see Blaire staring back at him.
She smiled and said, “Good morning.”
“Good morning. Was I snoring?”
“Not really. You were making weird noises. That chair doesn’t look very comfortable.”
“It’s not.”
“Thanks for being here with me through the night.”
“It’s not exactly how we planned to end our evening when you left Miller’s last night but sometimes you have to improvise when situations change. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Like I was in a fight and lost. How do I look?”
“You always look beautiful to me.”
“That’s a cop out. How bad do I look, really?”
“You look like you were in a fight and lost.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Seriously, it’s not that bad. You have a few red marks on your face and neck and it’s black and blue under your eyes, but nothing a little makeup can’t cover up. If somebody sees you without your makeup, they’ll just think your jealous boyfriend beat you up.”
“I thought you told me you weren’t the jealous type.”
“Usually I’m not. I don’t mind other men looking at you. It might bother me if you responded to their advances, but I’d never get jealous enough to hit that pretty face of yours.”
“I like the idea of you being possessive of me. Although I might not show it on the outside, I am the jealous type when it comes to you. Keep that in mind if you get any thoughts about straying.”
“You have nothing to worry about.”
Blaire lightly touched her face and winced a little when she hit a sensitive spot. “Do I have any permanent scars?”
“None that I can see.”
Her eyes began to water, and she struggled to restrain the tears. “I thought ... I thought my face had been burned with acid. That’s what he told me.”
Quinton rose from his chair and sat on the bed next to her. He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks and cradled her. “I can’t imagine what you went through. It must have been horrible.”
After a few more sniffles, she said, “As my mama would tell me if she were here, wallowing in self-pity never accomplished anything. Suck it up and move on with your life.
“Your mama’s a smart woman. I’d like to meet her sometime.”
“She knows about you and she’s asked me several times to bring you to Georgia to meet her, but you and I always seem to have a conflict with our job schedules.”
“Are you sure it isn’t a commitment issue with you?”
“Not consciously. I could say the same about you. I know your mom died before we met, but you’ve never introduced me to your father, and he lives a short distance away in Northern Virginia.”
“You don’t want to meet him. He’s a bitter old man.”
“Yes, I do want to meet him. He can’t be that bad. Look how you turned out.”
“He and I don’t have a close relationship. He’s a retired FBI agent. He was always too busy with his job to spend time with mom and me when I was growing up. The last time we were together was at my mom’s funeral. We talk on the phone occasionally, when I initiate a call.”
We’ll have to make a point to take a trip to Georgia and one to Northern Virginia after we take down the monster who attacked me.”
“... It’s a deal, but don’t expect too much from my father. He’s not going to change at his age.”
She reached her hand out to shake on their agreement. He gave her a kiss on the lips instead of a handshake. “I like making deals with you,” she said.
An attractive lady in her thirties, wearing a white coat entered the partially open door and rapped on the back of it. “I’m Dr. Erica Downey. Am I interrupting something?” she said in a teasing manner.
“I was giving the patient mouth-to-mouth resuscitation,” QT said.
“I saw that. Apparently, it worked. Our patient looks fully conscious and breathing heavily. You don’t mind if a licensed doctor takes over the examination from here, do you? That medical degree of mine cost me a lot of money. I need to work to pay for it.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
“You can wait outside while I check her vitals and look at her injuries. It’ll take ten or fifteen minutes.”
“OK, I’ll go to the cafeteria and get a coffee. I won’t be far away, Blaire.”
***
The doctor flipped through the patient chart on the clipboard. “The Emergency Room Physician’s comments indicate that you were beaten last night by an unknown assailant. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Sometimes, women are reluctant to admit that a boyfriend or husband was responsible, either out of fear or embarrassment. We’re here alone. Now is the time to let me know if you want to change your story.”
“You just met my partner. I assure you he has never hit me.”
“He seemed very charming, but appearances can be deceiving. You’d be surprised how many adoring husbands and boyfriends show up at the hospital with flowers and presents the day after nearly beating their spouse or girlfriend to death. I hope you understand that I had to ask you the question.”
“I appreciate your concern, but the monster who kidnapped me is the one who did this to me.”
The doctor gently poked near the bruises on Blaire’s face and neck. “There’re no broken bones in your face. You’ve got a couple of nice shiners around your eyes. Is your vision impaired at all?”
“The swelling makes it harder for me to focus. Other than that, my vision seems normal.”
“No double vison or flashing lights in front of your eyes.”
“No.”
Dr. Erica took a small light and shined it in Blaire’s eyes and then asked her to follow her finger, so she could do a peripheral vision exam.”
“No damage to your eyes is evident,” Dr. Erica said after completing the exam.
The external bruises, including the black eyes, should heal within a couple of weeks without any visible remnants of the trauma. The X-rays didn’t show any damage to your pharynx or larynx.”
“I don’t know what a pharynx is. What does that mean in English?”
“The inside of your throat isn’t seriously injured.”
“Got it.”
She lifted the hospital gown above the three-inch cut on Blaire’s thigh. “Can you feel this?” she asked as she pressed on the suture used to repair the gash.
“Yes, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“It’s a clean cut made by a very sharp blade, so it should heal without a scar. It wasn’t deep enough to cause nerve or muscle damage.”
“Good.”
Dr. Downey untied the gown from around Blaire’s neck and opened it up to examine her back. “These are nasty contusions. Were you hit with a hand or something else?”
“I think it was a wooden paddle. It knocked the wind out of me.”
“A paddle explains why there are welts, but no cuts on your back. The MRI we took last night didn’t reveal any serious injuries to your spine or internal organs, but you’ll have sensitivity for the next month until the internal bruising fully heals.
“Will there be any permanent scars on the outside?”
“No, give it a few weeks and you’ll be bikini-ready. I didn’t see any references to chest injuries. Did we miss anything?”
“No, I wasn’t hurt there.”
“Excellent. There weren’t any notes from the Emergency Room Physician about sexual assault. Were you molested?”
“No.”
“We didn’t find any head injuries, your blood pressure and heart rhythm are normal, and we’ve got you rehydrated via the IV. Physically, I see no reason why you can’t be released today.”
