She’d already contacted her webmaster and asked who’d sent the image to be uploaded.
There was no answer yet. She paid him monthly for the maintenance of the site. As the real work was done through the shop, her website was more of a picture catalog for people to see other artwork to get ideas for their own tattoos.
It wasn’t an online store.
And shouldn’t have been worth hacking.
Her webmaster emailed her. “You did. A few days ago.” Below was the request from her email at the shop with the image attached.
“Morgan,” she said in a faint voice, pointing to the screen. “Someone hacked into my email and asked the webmaster to upload the image.”
“Ah hell, honey.” He wrapped his arms around her as he read both the webmaster’s email and the original request. “I imagine that was pretty damn easy to do, too.”
She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “How?”
“Because your email is just Jazz@allthatsjazz. It’s not hard to figure out. And the webmaster’s name and contact information is on your website. It’s a quick 1 plus 1 to put it together.”
The webmaster would have had no way to know the request hadn’t come from her either. Sometimes these came from Roxy or Perl, depending on who had the time at the moment.
She slumped back into her chair.
“It’s a scary thing to think we’re so vulnerable to something like this.”
“Most would consider this a harmless prank, unless you’re looking at it from a darker perspective as we are this case.”
She nodded. “It’s still upsetting.”
“Of course,” he said. “This person is playing with you. With us. With the cops. But none of this says dangerous stalker, shooter, or murderer.”
“True, but it’s definitely well past the point of a joke,” she muttered.
“He’s taunting you.”
“Yeah, I got that.” She studied the email from the webmaster… and gasped.
Morgan turned and said sharply, “What?”
“Look at the date. It’s the same day we went to the morgue.”
He leaned over her shoulder. “Shit. So they either saw me at the shop or watched us coming or leaving from the morgue.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “This all brings it back to the same day.” He motioned to the email. “Forward that to Shaun as well. The more evidence he has, the better.”
She clicked through the several buttons she had to in order to send it off, adding a note that the request was on the same day that Morgan had walked back into her life and the same day they’d gone to view the tattoo.
She turned and got up off the bed. “I can’t say I’m feeling very good about any of this right now. My shop seems to be firmly in the center of the mess.”
“Not necessarily,” he said. “I may be the one responsible for bringing you in. Consider if I hadn’t walked into your shop that day?”
“Meaning this wouldn’t have all happened.” How did that make her feel? She’d needed him back into her life. Was blessed and so damn grateful he was here… and yet look at what had come with him. She snorted. No, it was once again Billy messing up their lives. He’d died and that brought his brother back into the scene. It was obvious that having Morgan back here was going to bring her back into his world. One way or another. She was grateful it was all good as he could have come back with a wife and the scenario would have been so much different.
She hated to bring it up, but she had to wonder yet again if it really was Billy lying in the morgue. How did that change anything if it wasn’t him?
It wouldn’t involve Morgan for one. He’d only come to help identify his brother.
But…
She turned back to him. “How did you know that it was your brother in the morgue?”
“I told you – it feels like him.” He frowned at her.
“No,” she said, walking closer. Knowing this was important and she’d missed some vital piece of information, she asked, “Where was this body found?”
“In his apartment. His name was on the lease. They found me as his next of kin.”
“Of course they did.” She threw up her hands. “This shit is making me crazy.”
“Have you…” and his voice petered off.
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Have I ever what?”
He took a deep breath, “Been to his place?”
“No. Never.” She frowned. “But maybe that’s where we should have started looking.” She glanced at the clock. “It’s late, but not that late. Do you think we can get in?”
“It’s whether we’re allowed in. He was murdered there, so it’s a crime scene.”
“Maybe, but I think we should go. See if anything strikes us as being important.”
“I’ll call and see if we can get clearance.”
*
Why the hell hadn’t he considered Billy’s apartment before? The cops had gone through it earlier and he thought they were done with it, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d been too busy trying to mend his relationship with Jazz and keeping her safe. That had been a full-time job in itself.
The cop answered immediately. When he was done, he turned to Jazz and said, “I do like how the cops are very responsive.”
“Meaning?” she asked, her voice low, dull.
“Meaning that they are willing to help us help them.”
She brightened. “So does that mean we can go in?”
“It’s no longer a crime scene and as the next of kin, I have to clear things out.”
“But we don’t know for sure it’s him on the slab… right?”
He said, “Not yet. But I paid for a private lab to do the tests fast. We should know in a few days.”
He kept his face down, feeling her surprise, knowing she was searching his features for answers. In a quiet voice, he looked over at her and said, “Billy was still my brother.”
“Damn, I’m sorry.” And she was. Billy had been a shit, but he’d been Morgan’s shit. “Do you not want to go to his apartment then?”
“We’ll go now. The sooner the better.”
He got up and walked downstairs and outside with her. They’d be able to get to his brother’s place in five minutes. He lived below Knox Mountain, an older part of town.
It actually took closer to eight minutes, but he pulled into the small driveway of the older home and turned off the engine.
“I thought you said he had an apartment.”
“This is split into two. Billy rented the lower level.” He stood and stared at the place. There were no lights on up or down. He walked to the lower entrance door and checked the door. It was locked. It shouldn’t have been as the police wouldn’t normally lock up as they left afterwards – at least he presumed so. He studied the lock and realized it was new. As in within the last few days.
So the landlord. Crap.
The door beside him opened.
“What are you doing here?” the older man asked suspiciously.
“I’m Billy’s brother,” Morgan said quietly. “I wanted to check and see if there was anything to explain his death.”
The landlord’s face cleared. “Good. You’ll need to clear out his belongings, too. With the mess the cops have made in there, I’m not giving back the damage deposit either. Just a minute and I’ll get the keys.”
Morgan drew Jazz closer and waited for the landlord to return. The night air was cool, but his blood was having no trouble keeping him warm. This is not where he wanted to be right now.
With a warm willing woman in his arms and heart, this was in truth the last place he wanted to be.
But until this mess was solved, his… their… choices were limited.