Deadly Cover-Up, page 6
After a rough start, Bailey had eventually been allowed to assist with the investigation of her father’s murder. As she and Frank had worked together, their relationship grew and they fell in love, despite Frank’s background in law enforcement and Bailey’s history of breaking the law. Bailey had changed her ways and had really become an asset to the Sheriff’s Office. She was an extremely talented computer hacker, and her skills at the keyboard had already been key in solving several cases since she had joined their team. According to Ben, she had no equal in the entire division. Jordan was confident that if anyone could dig out the proof that might be available electronically, it would be Bailey with Frank’s sharp mind helping her along the way.
She glanced over at Ben, who had just finished telling everyone their assignments. They had already decided to start the official inquiry by interviewing Jeremy Sparks’s widow, Emma. Jordan wasn’t convinced she really knew anything about what was going on at Southeastern, but they had to start somewhere. Emma hadn’t been willing to talk to Jordan when she had contacted her in the past, but she had agreed to meet with Ben this afternoon since he was a law enforcement officer. Jordan hoped that Emma would not only open up about Mintax and Southeastern, if she knew anything, but that she would also allow an autopsy of her husband. Although Mintax was virtually impossible to detect after ingestion, Jordan hoped that fresh eyes and a pathology expert might find something they had missed in their own labs. It was entirely possible that today’s visit might yield nothing of value, but it was worth a try.
After the meeting at the Sheriff’s Office concluded and everyone had their marching orders, Jordan and Ben headed out for the interview. The Sparkses owned a home out in the country north of Jacksonville and close to the Georgia state line, and it took over half an hour to reach the dirt road that led back to their property. Jordan checked the GPS on her phone to verify that they were actually turning off on the correct street. The area seemed deserted, and she wondered, not for the first time, if they were even in the right area. They had turned where the GPS led them, but they didn’t see a single house or other car as they drove. After about ten minutes or so of traveling along the dirt road, Jordan began to get worried. “Are you sure we’re in the right place? It feels like we’re out in the boonies.”
“No, I’m not sure,” Ben answered, “but you are my navigator. What is the GPS saying now?”
“It says we should have already reached the house. Maybe we should ask for directions?”
“I’d be happy to—if we could find someone to ask. I don’t see too many neighbors out here, though.”
“Watch out!” A black sedan suddenly seemed to come out of nowhere, and was heading straight for them at a high rate of speed. Ben slowed and tried to pull out of the car’s way, but the sedan kept coming right down the middle of the road. At the last possible second, Ben swerved even farther to the right, avoiding the collision but ending up on the overgrown shoulder with the car tilted precariously into the ditch. A plume of dust and sand filled the air as their car came to a hard stop, inches away from a stand of trees that canopied the area.
Ben quickly put one hand on his pistol grip as he kept his eyes on the car that had run them off the road. It didn’t stop and sped away behind them. Once the car was out of sight, he returned his hands to the wheel and tried to get the car back on the road. The tires spun against the dirt and struggled to regain purchase on the narrow thoroughfare, and for a moment, they were stuck in the sand. Finally, the tread caught the ground and surged the car back up onto the main part of the road. Jordan moved her eyes to the side mirror, fully expecting the black car to turn around and try again to crash into them or to threaten them in some other way. To her surprise, it didn’t return. She sighed in relief.
“I didn’t get the tag number,” Ben said. “Did you happen to get it?”
“No,” Jordan answered as she turned back to face him. “I tried, but everything happened so fast, I didn’t get a great look. Could you tell who was driving?”
Ben shook his head. “The driver was by himself, and I believe he was a white male. That’s about all I could see. I was focused on keeping our car from running into the trees.” He glanced her way again. “Are you okay?”
Jordan nodded. “Yeah. I’m just relieved that we didn’t crash and he didn’t stick around to talk.” She glanced once again at the road behind them. “Why do you think he was in such a hurry?”
They turned a corner, and when Jordan looked forward again, she saw a two-story farmhouse in the distance. She glanced at the GPS screen. The house had to belong to the Sparkses. There was nothing else around. But she had an ominous feeling that they weren’t going to find anything good once they passed over the threshold.
SEVEN
Jordan and Ben made their way up the driveway and parked in front of the wraparound porch. Hot Florida humidity swept over them as they approached the front door and rang the buzzer. No one answered. Ben checked his watch and hit the doorbell again, then raised his eyebrow. “That’s odd. I just talked to her before we left. She knew we were coming and said she’d be expecting us.”
Jordan shrugged and brushed away a bug that was flying near her face. “We’re a couple of minutes later than we expected. Maybe she got busy on a project or something.”
Ben reached for the doorknob and instead of finding it locked, discovered that the door wasn’t even latched. He barely touched it and the door swung open on its own. Jordan sucked in a breath as Ben drew his weapon and motioned for her to stay behind him. She shuddered as a sudden tingle swept down her spine. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She could feel it.
“Hello? Mrs. Sparks? Sheriff’s Office. Are you home?”
They pushed through the front door, and Jordan stayed cautiously behind Ben, her eyes wide and watchful.
“Mrs. Sparks? Sheriff’s Office. Call out if you’re here.”
They passed the foyer and entered the living room.
Suddenly, Jordan screamed.
Mrs. Sparks lay dead on a carpet in front of the sofa, a bullet wound bleeding from her chest. Her eyes were still open, and her face showed a mixture of surprise and fear.
Ben put up his hand, and Jordan instantly put her hand over her mouth and quieted, even though adrenaline was pulsing through her. She hadn’t meant to scream, and fully understood Ben’s warning. There could still be perpetrators in the house, and since they’d killed once, they probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. He moved closer to the woman’s body and reached down to feel for a pulse, but Jordan knew there was little hope that the woman was still alive. Ben met her eye and shook his head, then kept his weapon out and led her out of the room and toward the kitchen. She felt numb inside. She hadn’t really known the woman, yet she still felt the loss keenly.
The kitchen was empty, but smelled wonderfully of baking and vanilla, and a tray of cookies was still cooling on a rack by the oven. Ben verified that the oven was turned off, then continued his search, and Jordan followed closely behind him. The house was quiet except for the humming of the refrigerator and the air conditioner as it clicked on and pushed a gentle breeze through the vents.
They cleared the house in a few short minutes, methodically checking room by room, and finally Ben seemed satisfied that they were alone. He holstered his weapon and called in the murder. While he made his report, Jordan started looking around, hoping to find some clue about what had happened. The house had been ransacked, and the floor and furniture were cluttered with books, papers and other items that had been thrown around during the criminal’s search.
Ben finished his call and joined her. “I wonder what they were looking for?” he asked.
“Jeremy probably wouldn’t have had any hard copies of the reports dealing with the work at Southeastern,” Jordan responded absently. “He liked to do all of his work on computers. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d saved scans or other documents and copied them on a hard drive. Maybe that’s what the killer was looking for. I doubt Jeremy would have used the cloud. He said over and over again that he didn’t think that it was safe to store important documents there because he was worried about security.” She glanced around the living room. “Do you see a laptop anywhere? Jeremy used to carry one back and forth from the office to home. Whoever did this might have also been looking for that, and if they found it, I’m sure they’d have taken it with them, just to make sure there was nothing incriminating on it. I tried asking Mrs. Sparks about the laptop months ago, but she would never agree to see me.”
Ben’s brow furrowed. “You’re assuming this murder has something to do with Southeastern.”
Jordan widened her eyes. “You’re not?”
Ben shrugged. “The timing is suspicious, that I grant you. But let’s not jump to any conclusions before we take a look at the evidence.” He pulled out two sets of rubber gloves and handed one to Jordan, then gave her a thin pair of booties to slide over her shoes. “Put these on just in case, but try not to touch anything. Let’s do another walk-through and see if you see any computers or hard drives, or any good hiding places that we might want to search once the rest of the team arrives.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You know a hard drive is pretty small, right? Even the ones with a lot of storage space are only about the size of a deck of cards. Jeremy could have hidden one in a hundred different places.”
Ben shrugged. “I’m aware. It may seem impossible, but if we find something, it could blow this case right open.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s worth a try.”
Jordan appreciated his efforts. It was horrific to see Mrs. Sparks murdered in her own home, but they had to push forward, and Jordan knew he was trying his best to keep her mind off the violence that had occurred only a short time before they arrived. She couldn’t help Mrs. Sparks now, but she could and would keep trying to solve the case.
Still, seeing Mrs. Sparks’s sightless eyes made her stomach churn, and she swayed a little as she saw them again and again in her mind’s eye. Ben noticed and quickly reached over and steadied her with his hands on her arms, careful not to touch her healing wound. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone worried.
She nodded. “I don’t see dead bodies very often. This is all new to me.”
He gave her arms a gentle squeeze. “That’s understandable. I’m sorry you have to see all of this in the first place. Do you want to go sit in the car and wait for me? It’s going to be a while before I can leave.”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll be okay.” She took a deep breath. “Shall we start the search?”
He nodded and they headed for the guest bedroom and slowly made a perusal of each room in the house. Jordan lingered over the photos on the dresser in the master bedroom. There were several framed shots of Jeremy and his wife, and a few of a small girl that was a baby in some pictures and as big as three years old in others. She had curly brown hair and big brown eyes and was the spitting image of Jeremy and his wife.
Jordan frowned. She never realized that Jeremy had a child. He never talked about the girl, or even mentioned anyone in his family besides his wife. Maybe the child was a niece or cousin? She kept walking, stepping over items that were strewn around on the carpet. Someone had taken a knife to the overstuffed chair that had been in the corner, and stuffing and pieces of upholstery were strewn around. She now understood the analogy of a needle in a haystack. How could they figure out where Jeremy could have hidden such a small item in such a big house? The possibilities were endless. And who knew if the murderers had already found it when they did their search after killing Mrs. Sparks?
She left Ben walking toward the kitchen and went into the master bath. They had an oversized shower with beautiful marbled tiles and large glass windows. Both the door to the cabinet under the sink and the medicine cabinet were already open, and it was obvious that someone had ransacked both areas. She took a peek as well but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The air conditioner clicked on again, and she paused a moment, letting the refreshing breeze hit her face. She turned and started to leave when she glanced up and noticed the air vent on the ceiling. There was dust gathered in the panes, but there was one section of the vent that had very little dust, and it was a rectangular shape about five by three inches wide.
“Ben?” She moved to the doorway and called across the house, and a few moments later, Ben appeared.
“I just heard from Frank. They’re on their way and should be here in about half an hour or less. Did you find something?”
She pointed to the ceiling. “It might be nothing, but it looks like something is blocking the air in that vent.”
Ben studied it from a couple of different angles. “It definitely looks like something might be up there. Once the rest of the team gets here, we’ll check it out. The size fits.” He smiled. “Good eye!” He reached out and patted her back affectionately, then pulled back quickly as if he’d been burned. The air felt thick, and Jordan was suddenly very interested in the dirt on her shoe.
“Let’s keep looking, just in case I’m wrong,” she said awkwardly. She slid past him and he slowly followed her, allowing the space to grow between them as they continued to move through other parts of the house. The uneasiness between them eventually dissipated, but it took longer than she’d thought, and once again, she pushed her thoughts back to the case. It was just too painful to keep thinking about her lost relationship with Ben.
She finished checking a cabinet by the TV and stopped for a moment, remembering Jeremy and the many times she had enjoyed working with him on the various projects at Southeastern. He had always been very professional, and quick to explore an idea or try something new.
She glanced around the room and sighed. It felt strange to be in Jeremy’s home and going through his personal things. And now his wife was dead, too. A wave of sadness swept over her. So much death and destruction—and for what?
She checked the last cabinet and then shut it with a snap. She and Ben had searched everywhere they could think of, but neither of them had found a laptop or tablet anywhere in the house. If Jeremy’s laptop had been there before they arrived, she was certain that the perpetrators must have taken it.
A few minutes later, the rest of the team arrived. Ben and Frank went back to the bathroom with a screwdriver and evidence bags, just in case, and Jordan followed them and watched as they pulled off the vent cover.
“Do you see anything?” she asked, her tone hopeful.
Ben carefully removed a small rectangular box that had been resting there and handed it to Frank, who put it in a plastic bag and sealed it. It was a small hard drive, but the cord was missing. Jordan’s heart leaped at the sight. Finally, they had something that might help with the investigation. It might contain nothing, or it could contain the proof they needed to stop Southeastern before they hurt someone else.
* * *
“Amazing find, Jordan,” Ben praised again as he marked the date and time the hard drive was found on the outside of the plastic bag with a permanent marker. “It’s no wonder the killers didn’t find it. I doubt we would’ve even found it without your help.” He gave her a smile. “You’re quite a detective.”
“I can’t wait to get this back to Bailey and our tech team to see what’s on it,” Frank added. “You’d think that if Jeremy Sparks felt like it was important enough to hide, then it must contain some valuable information.” He turned it over and studied it carefully. “It’s pretty dusty, and it looks like it has been here for a while. Hopefully, this is a big step toward proving Jordan’s story.”
“I sure hope so.” Jordan smiled.
Despite the smile, Ben could see the sadness in her eyes. It was hard to be happy about the find when Mrs. Sparks lay dead in the next room. He turned to Frank. “Is there any news about the car that tried to run us off the road?”
“No,” Frank answered grimly. “We sent out an all-points bulletin and have been searching, but we haven’t found it yet, and since neither of you got the tag, realistically, we have little hope of finding it. One thing we do know for sure. You and Jordan are making someone nervous. I’m just sorry that you didn’t get here soon enough to stop Mrs. Sparks’s murder. The coroner said she’s only been dead for an hour or less.”
The framed photo of Jeremy and Mrs. Sparks caught Ben’s eye as the group headed back toward the living room of the house. The couple in the picture were smiling as if they didn’t have a care in the world, and yet now both of them were dead. He wondered if they would have lived life differently if they’d known their lives would be cut so horribly short. There was a lesson here—it was important to live each day to the fullest. He thought back to an old movie he had seen as a teenager. What had the catchphrase been—seize the day? Despite everything that had happened, he knew he did have quite a bit to be thankful for, and he needed to seize the day today and every day and appreciate those around him.
He glanced over at Jordan, who was deep in conversation with Frank. Something he said made her smile again and nod in agreement. She was so beautiful, even dressed casually in jeans and a floral top. He loved the way she was graceful with even the simplest of movements and could light up a room just by entering it. Yet, he didn’t know how to breach the awkwardness that had sprang up between them, or even if it was possible to do so. He turned back to the framed pictures and studied them again before he made a fool out of himself and said something dumb in front of Frank and his colleagues.
Please help us discover the truth, Lord, Ben prayed. Before Southeastern kills somebody else.
