“I’m really sorry,” Cody Wegman apologized to Georgia at the Starbucks near Midwest National. Ellie covered Wegman’s hand with her own. “Relax, Cody. You tried.”
“Yeah, but I’d thought she’d have more cojones, you know?”
Georgia tried not to react. This wasn’t some caper with macho language and attitude. And Ellie was right. It wasn’t the kid’s fault. He’d risked his job to help them. Still, when you rely on amateurs...
Ellie and Wegman both peered at her, as if waiting for her to come up with another solution. The problem was she didn’t have one. She sipped her drink. Icy cold and sweet. Small compensation.
“What’s so important about those cashiers’ checks?” Wegman asked.
Ellie glanced at Georgia. She nodded.
“Chris Messenger authorized them,” Ellie explained, conveniently leaving out the part about the bank chairman’s signature. “Then closed the account they came from while her little girl was kidnapped. We think they might be related to her death.”
“Whose account was that?”
Georgia cut in. “That’s something I don’t think you should know. It’s—”
“But he might be able to help,” Ellie interrupted.
Aside from baseball, Georgia didn’t like team sports. Which was part of the problem when she was a cop. Being paired with Robby Parker had dragged her down. She preferred working alone. It was safer that way. But Ellie Foreman had become a major part of the investigation. The kid, too. He had a right to know. “You don’t know this,” she said softly. “And you damn well didn’t hear it from me.”
“Of course.” A self-satisfied look unfolded Wegman’s face. Georgia forced herself not to wipe it off with her napkin.
“It’s Delton Security,” Ellie said.
His face lit with recognition.
“You know who they are?”
“Everyone does. They’re one of our biggest customers.”
“So we understand,” Georgia said. “How did they come to be a customer of the bank?”
He thought for a minute. “I think Delton was the result of one of our new business campaigns.”
“What campaigns?”
“About a year ago, the bank launched an outreach effort. Senior officers would visit potential customers and pitch them with all sorts of perks to give us their accounts. Teams of officers—marketing, investment guys, IT—would do a dog and pony show. You know.”
Georgia leaned forward. “You mentioned IT. Was Chris Messenger on one of those teams?”
Wegman nodded. “She sure was. I remember the days she’d go out. She’d kid around about wearing her new business suit. Usually we didn’t dress up.”
Georgia took in his faded t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. That was the truth.
“Was she on the team that went to Delton?”
“Are you kidding? She was the reason we got it.”
Georgia sat up. “How did that happen?”
“They wanted to work with someone who could put all their operations online. Synchronize the bank’s stuff with theirs. Chris was the natural choice for Account Manager.” “That explains why she authorized the cashiers’ checks,” Georgia added. “And brought the matter to Pattison,” Ellie said. “Maybe even helped convince him to go along.” Wegman looked from Georgia to Ellie. “What’s the chairman got to do with this?”
Georgia and Ellie exchanged a glance. Georgia shook her head.
“Nothing, Cody,” Ellie said hurriedly. “Forget it.”
“So, Cody,” Georgia jumped in. “If you were looking to find out who the cashiers’ checks went to, how would you do it?”
His features relaxed, as if realizing he was still part of the team. He drained his Frappuccino. “We’re talking about June twenty-fifth, right?”
“No,” Georgia said. “That’s when the account they came out of was closed. The date the checks went out was early June. The first or second.”
“Oh. I thought...” his voice trailed off. Then he sat up, a puzzled look on his face. “That’s weird.”
“What?”
“I think June twenty-fifth was the day the elevator went crazy.” He looked at Georgia.
“Hold on.” He pulled out his wallet, extracted a tiny calendar card, and squinted at it. “Yup. That was the day.”
“What are you talking about?” Georgia asked.
“It was the strangest thing. There was a power failure in our bank of elevators. They just shut down for a few minutes.”
“What do you mean ‘your bank of elevators?’”
“IT is on the fifty-first floor. The elevators go from the lobby straight to fifty and then up to sixty-two. Five people were trapped inside. No lights. No electricity. Nothing. It only lasted about a minute, but one woman still hates to get on the elevator. She walks up most of the way.”
“What happened?” Ellie asked.
“They don’t really know.” He tapped his glass against the table. “It was a hot day. Lots of AC all over the Loop. Best guess is that it was a Com Ed brownout.”
“But it was only your bank of elevators,” Ellie said.
“I know.” He looked meaningfully at Ellie. “Kind of weird, you know?”
Georgia didn’t bother to keep the irritation out of her voice. “Listen to me, Cody. I’m not into long, meaningful looks or half-assed insinuations. If you think there’s a connection between the power failure and what Chris Messenger did, tell me. Otherwise don’t waste my time.”
Ellie pursed her lips. She looked like she wanted to defend Cody, but kept her mouth shut.
“Okay.” Wegman rolled his mug. “Here’s the thing. In the early days of computers, in order to make something permanent, you had to power down. You know, reboot the system.”
“Restart your computer,” Ellie murmured.
“Right. That’s not the case anymore, at least with the kind of systems we have. But if someone didn’t know that—say they were ten years out of date—they might think the only way to make something secure was to shut down the system.”
“Could Chris Messenger have done that?” Georgia asked. “Powered it down?”
“Absolutely. She was head of IT. She could do almost anything online.”
“And if the computers and the elevators were somehow on the same power line, the elevators would shut down, too.”
“That’s right. But, like I said, in the five years I’ve been here, that’s never happened. Or, if it did, it happened late at night when no one was using the elevators.”
“But aren’t there back-up generators,” Ellie asked, “to prevent that from happening?”
“There are, but if someone disabled the back-ups...”
“But why would Chris have powered them down?” Georgia said. “She’s up to date on computers. She’d know it wasn’t necessary.”
“Maybe it was a signal. You know, ‘mission accomplished,’” Ellie said.
“Shut down the elevators for a signal?” Georgia looked at them. “You watch way too much TV. Look, it was a hot day. Com Ed is known for rolling brownouts. Especially in the Loop. Maybe that’s all it was.”
“Or maybe she was forced to.” Ellie pulled out a scrap of paper. “Write down the name of the woman who won’t get on the elevator. If you don’t mind.”
Cody scrawled down a name. Ellie folded the paper and slipped it into her bag.
Georgia shook her head. “I guess you like chasing your tail, too.”
Ellie’s cheeks reddened.
“Sorry. It’s been a bad day.” Georgia held out her hand for the paper. “I’ll do it.”
“Apology accepted.” Ellie fished the paper out of her bag. “You sure?”
“It’s part of the package,” she deadpanned. “Okay. Let’s talk about something more important. I need a look at that log. It shouldn’t be that big a deal. It’s not like hacking into someone’s system. Or,” she smiled wryly, “hijacking elevators. I mean, how much skill does it take to read a few sheets of paper? All I need is access.”
Ellie looked thoughtful. “So, how do we get you that access?”
Georgia flicked her eyes to the barista behind the counter. He was cleaning the expresso machine with a white rag. “Tell me about the door to the teller area. Do they use swipe cards to get in and out?”
Wegman nodded. “All the doors use them. But even if you can get in, the drawer it’s kept in is securely locked.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Georgia had learned how to pick locks years ago. Larry, an elderly locksmith in the neighborhood, had taught her. And sold her a set of picks. “Will your swipe card get me in?”
“No. We’re all keyed to specific areas.”
“So how would you get into the teller department if you needed to?”
“Someone would have to let me in.”
Georgia watched the barista wipe down the drink counter. When he looked up and saw her watching him, he smiled. His earrings—he must have been wearing three or four—sparkled in the light. He finished wiping the counter, folded the rag, and hung it on a hook behind the counter. His shift must be ending, she thought. He was cleaning up for the next. Georgia looked back at Cody and Ellie and smiled.