Sean had an awful night, and he didn’t expect the day to get any better.
He woke up in Jesse’s room just before nine, his neck stiff and his back sore. He woke Jesse like the doctor had told him to. Jesse said, “I’m fine,” and closed his eyes again.
Sean didn’t think he’d been asleep. Jesse just didn’t want to talk to him.
Sean took a short shower and walked downstairs. He didn’t like coffee, but he poured himself a cup, sipped, and grimaced. He needed the jolt but he didn’t understand how Lucy could drink this stuff like water.
Kane was on the phone, and by the conversation it was clear he was talking to Rick Stockton. When he hung up, he said, “Rick knows what happened. He’s talking to Dean now, and will be alerting the marshals.”
“What does he think is going on?”
“If this is a threat to Jesse, their threat assessment is shit.” Kane paused. “You need to be prepared that they may have to go back into WITSEC. The marshals are generally very good, but they could have missed something—especially if Spade wasn’t forthcoming.”
Sean’s stomach twisted painfully. He’d been thinking about this exact situation all night. That now that he’d found Jesse, he would lose him again.
“If Spade didn’t tell the truth, if he hid something about his activities or associates from the court, he won’t be allowed back into the program. That’s part of his agreement,” Sean said.
“But they would put his wife and son back in.”
“Stepson! Jesse is my son.”
“Sean.”
Kane didn’t have to say it. Sean couldn’t protect Jesse and Madison if someone wanted to get to Carson through them.
“I don’t want to lose him, Kane,” Sean said quietly.
Kane clapped a hand on Sean’s back. “We’re going to get through this, no matter what happens. He’s safe here for now, Jack’s on his way, and I’m going to do some recon on this Bart Vasquez. Did you learn anything about Jesse’s phone last night?”
“I left a program running overnight.”
They walked down the hall to Sean’s office and he slipped behind his desk. At least here he had complete control. Here, he knew what he was doing and how to find answers.
He scanned the raw data of the app that told Jesse’s mother where he was. These apps were supposed to be hackproof, but Sean knew nothing was foolproof. Yet Sean had found no evidence that someone outside had accessed the app. Now he had just the raw code and data. Everything meant something, but what he wanted was a list of IP addresses that had logged into the program to look at the tracking. One came up almost daily—but Sean had already determined it was Madison.
This was going to take time. Raw data was a bitch to pore through, even when you knew what to look for.
Kane said, “Work on that, call if you learn anything. Jack will be here early afternoon. We’re going to find out exactly what’s going on.” He paused. “I told Rick Lucy’s theory.”
“What?” Had Sean missed something?
“That being run off the road was a threat, not a planned assassination.”
“She doesn’t know that.”
“She’s not only trained, but she has above-average instincts. It was a hit-and-run, on purpose, but they had time to finish the job if they wanted Lucy or Jesse dead.”
Sean hated hearing those words.
“Rick’s going to relay that information to the marshals and hope that they’ll delay any relocation until we get answers.”
“And what if she’s wrong?”
“Do you think she is?”
“I won’t take that risk with Jesse’s life.”
It was clear by his expression that Kane didn’t agree with him, but Jesse wasn’t his kid. Jesse was Sean’s son, and Sean would do anything to keep him safe.
“I’m going to recon Vasquez. Did you run him last night?”
“Basics. Owns a million-dollar house in the Dominion. Has a yacht moored in Galveston and a condo on the beach. More property in Dallas, a few rentals locally, and a giant ranch in Tucson. And that’s just the property in his or his wife’s name.”
“He’s married?”
“Anita Vasquez. Maiden name Garcia. Going back twenty-some years. One grown daughter attends LSU.”
“Is she home?”
“I found her working in New Orleans for the summer. What are you thinking?”
“Do you know how he got his money?”
“No. I would have to cross over to the gray area. I’ll do it if you think it’s important.” Sean didn’t like breaking the law—even if it was a gray area—unless it was life or death. Not now, when he was married to a fed and it might ruin Lucy’s life. “I couldn’t find any way that he could have legitimately gotten that money, but there could be an inheritance—him or his wife. There was no major case where he won a settlement in a federal court or in Texas in the last decade. Not all court cases are online, so it would take some legwork—especially if it was out of state. I only looked in Texas because he’s never lived anywhere else. I was going to check Arizona next, because of that ranch he owns.”
“No known source of income and he was suspected of being a dirty cop. Now he’s a PI hiring thugs.”
“Sums it up.”
“I may or may not make contact, but Jack will call when he lands. You find out how Jesse was tracked, then dig back into Vasquez for criminal connections.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Sean snapped. He rubbed his eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Kane squeezed his shoulder. “You’re not in this alone, brother.”
Kane walked out and Sean went back to work, running a deeper background on Bart Vasquez and his wife, letting the computer program do the work for him, while he refocused on analyzing the raw data from Jesse’s phone.
Because he was preoccupied and tired, he didn’t see the problem the first time he looked through. His head hurt, but he needed to find it. He knew something was there.
So he went back again. And again.
Then he saw it.
He had been focusing on ISPs, when he should be focusing on the time stamps. Because the program was supposed to be the safest out there, it only sent data when authorized users pinged the phone. They had to proactively log in and collect the data. Sean had already considered that Madison’s phone may be compromised, but convincing her of that would be difficult. If he didn’t find anything in the raw data on Jesse’s phone, he would call Rick Stockton and go through proper channels to get access to Madison’s phone—or walk the FBI cyber team through what to do.
Then he went back through all the data and saw the breach.
Every time Madison logged in to see where Jesse was, the data was sent to a blind account. The individual couldn’t get into Jesse’s program, but the breach was on Madison’s end. And she had checked Jesse’s location while they were at the Rib House on Wednesday, and again Friday night, an hour before Lucy was run off the road with Jesse in the car. At that point, they had still been at St. Catherine’s. Someone had followed them from there and taken the opportunity to scare them.
Why would she compromise her son like that?
Carson Spade.
Spade could easily gain access to Madison’s phone. If Madison wasn’t checking Jesse’s location, Carson could easily do it. Madison might not even know what he was up to.
He dialed Madison’s cell phone number. It went immediately to voice mail.
“This is Sean. We need to talk. Call me.”
He downloaded all the data and sent it to Rick. This was proof, as far as Sean was concerned, that Carson Spade had lied to the FBI and his handlers and that he should be put behind bars. Screw the plea deal. He was putting his son at risk and for what? Why would he do it? To get back into WITSEC? To get that clean slate? To keep Jesse away from Sean?
Of course, someone else could have set up the blind account, but it had to be someone with physical access to Madison’s phone. Who else except her no-good husband?
Jesse walked by the den door, but didn’t come in or even look at Sean. Bandit followed on Jesse’s heels.
Sean got up and went to the kitchen. “Do you want me to make you something?” he asked.
Jesse shook his head and stared into the refrigerator.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
He closed the refrigerator without getting anything.
Sean wanted to tell him what he’d found, but he didn’t want to put any more stress on Jesse. He didn’t know why he was so quiet, why he wouldn’t even look at him.
“You remember Jack, right? Lucy’s brother? He’ll be here this afternoon.”
Again, nothing. Sean tried to remember when his life came crashing down on him after his parents died. Duke tried to talk to him, and Sean had the same reaction. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He wanted Duke to leave him alone, to let him figure things out on his own. But Duke wouldn’t leave him alone, and that had made Sean even angrier.
At fourteen, he had no idea what to do with his rage, so he got in trouble. A lot of it. He didn’t want Jesse to go down the same path. Sure, Sean had cleaned up his act, he’d learned to channel his anger and develop healthier ways to relieve frustration, but there were times when he nearly got himself killed because of his rash actions. He’d been wild. He didn’t get into drugs and drinking, but he’d raced cars—before he was legally able to drive. He risked life and limb to get a rush, to feel alive, when everything inside him felt dead and buried along with his parents.
Would Jesse go down a similar path? Would he rebel to the point of putting himself in mortal danger? How could Sean stop it? Lay down the law? Give him space? Talk to him? He didn’t know. He didn’t damn know what he was supposed to do. He was a father now, but he had no real examples. His own dad had been interesting and brilliant, but he’d never disciplined Sean. He was absentminded and more interested in work—that’s why Sean had become interested in electronics and computers in the first place, because that was how he earned his father’s time and attention. Sean’s brother Duke was the opposite. He was strict and dictatorial. He knew Sean was going down a dangerous path after their parents were killed, and Duke’s way of trying to prevent it was to go to the opposite extreme.
What was Sean supposed to do now? He had no real authority over Jesse. He had only what Madison granted him. He wanted more—he wanted it all—but he’d never have it. Jesse didn’t have to listen to him. Hell, if Sean was in his shoes he’d say go to hell, leave me alone. The pushing and prodding that Duke tried in order to force Sean to talk had made Sean clam up or lie.
Jesse wasn’t Sean, and Sean wasn’t Duke—or his own father. But that didn’t mean Sean had any answers. Hell, he had no answers. He was far out of his comfort zone and areas of expertise.
“Lucy likes my chocolate chip pancakes,” Sean said. “Of course, Lucy likes anything with chocolate.”
“Where is Lucy?”
“She had to work.”
Jesse grabbed a banana and said, “I’m not really hungry. I’m going to play video games.”
“Want a partner?” Video games. That was something Sean could do. A connection he could make.
“No. Don’t you have things to do?”
Jesse walked away. Bandit looked at Sean and tilted his head, as if he knew there was a strain between them. Sean scratched him behind the ears, then said, “Go with Jesse.” Bandit didn’t need to be told twice. He bounded out of the kitchen. Sean watched as his son and dog disappeared at the end of the hall into the game room.
He sat down at the island. He’d played the whole thing wrong.
But he didn’t know how to fix it.