Chương 13
“Queens.”
“Where in Queens?”
“I can’t tell you yet.”
Ortiz was already signaling for technical tracing authority.
I shook my head once.
He frowned.
Martin said, “Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“The plane?”
“Passengers are off.”
Another pause.
Then he exhaled.
“Thank God.”
That answer moved something inside me.
Not relief.
Not guilt.
A door opening onto a darker room.
“How did you know the plane might not be safe?”
Silence.
“Martin.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You asked.”
“I knew something was wrong.”
“What?”
“I saw the access.”
“What access?”
“Your travel security record.”
I looked at Daniel.
He stopped typing.
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Using your credential?”
“No.”
“Then why does the system show your credential?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where were you at 4:17?”
“At headquarters.”
Rebecca covered her mouth.
“Alone?”
“No.”
“Who was with you?”
Another silence.
My voice tightened.
“Martin.”
“Neil.”
Every person in the operations vehicle looked at me.
I knew the name.
Neil Carrow.
Executive vice president of Vanguard Risk and Compliance.
One of the six people authorized to view my protected travel profile.
One of the men who had sat beside me at board meetings for fourteen years.
He had attended my husband’s funeral.
He had brought a casserole nobody ate.
“Why were you with Neil at four in the morning?”
“He called me.”
“About what?”
“He said there was an urgent cargo integrity issue and he needed me at headquarters before the flight left.”
“Why you?”
“Because the flagged routes touch infrastructure investments.”
“That doesn’t require your presence at four.”
“I know.”
“Did you log into the security system?”
“No.”
“Did he?”
“I didn’t see.”
“What did you see?”
Martin breathed out.
“He borrowed my workstation.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
“Why?”
I asked.
“He said his credentials were locked after a forced password reset.”
“And you let him use yours?”
“For a document portal.”
“Did you authenticate?”
“Yes.”
The old anger came fast.
Too fast.
“You gave another executive access under your identity.”
“He was standing next to me.”
“That is irrelevant.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
“Mom.”
“You sit on the risk committee.”
“I know.”
“You signed the controls.”
“I know.”
“You approved disciplinary action against employees for less.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
The anger stopped being clean.
I hated that.
Clean anger was easier.
Ortiz wrote Neil’s name on a pad and slid it toward an officer.
The officer began working immediately.
Martin continued.
“Neil opened several systems while I was dealing with the cargo report.”
“Which systems?”
“I don’t know.”
“You left him alone at your workstation?”
“For maybe five minutes.”
“Why?”
“I went to get coffee.”
Rebecca made a tiny sound that might have been disbelief.
Martin heard the silence.
“I know how it sounds.”
“Then tell me what happened next.”
“He said the cargo alert was resolved.”
“What alert?”
“Weight discrepancy on three medical imaging shipments.”
“The same shipments tied to NorthStar?”
“I didn’t know that then.”
“When did you find out?”
“About an hour later.”
“How?”
“I checked the audit queue because something felt off.”
“Something.”
“He was too calm.”
The phrase annoyed me because it sounded imprecise.
It also sounded true.
“What did you find?”
“Someone had accessed your travel profile from my credential.”
“Did you report it?”
“No.”
I closed my eyes.
That answer hurt more than the access.
“Why not?”
“I thought I’d be blamed.”
“You should be blamed for sharing authentication.”
“I know.”
“But that isn’t why you stayed silent.”
He said nothing.
I understood before he answered.
“You wanted to fix it yourself.”
“Yes.”
The resemblance between us was suddenly unbearable.
“What did you do?”
“I went to JFK.”
“In your company car.”
“Yes.”
“What were you trying to find?”
“Neil.”
“Why would he be there?”
“He had a meeting scheduled in the operations building.”
“With whom?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Did you find him?”
“No.”
“What did you find?”
Martin’s breathing changed.
“I found Marcus Vale.”
Ortiz stepped closer.
“Where?”
I asked.
“In the parking garage.”
“Before or after he was attacked?”
“Before.”
Everyone in the vehicle went still.
“What did he tell you?”
“He thought I was Neil.”
“Why?”
“He only saw me from behind at first.”
“What did he say?”
Martin’s voice became quieter.
“He said the seat change was done and asked whether the receiver was still going under row thirty-eight.”
I looked toward the monitor showing the cargo container.
“Receiver.”
“Yes.”
“What receiver?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Then what?”
“I asked him what he meant.”
“He realized you weren’t Neil,” Ortiz said quietly, though Martin could not hear him.
“What did Vale do?”
“He panicked.”
“Did he attack you?”
“No.”
“Did you attack him?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Martin swallowed audibly.
“Neil came out of the stairwell.”
The operations vehicle seemed to contract around us.
“Did you see him hit Marcus?”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
“A collapsible baton.”
Rebecca whispered, “Jesus.”
“Why didn’t you call police?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“Neil had a gun.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Did he point it at you?”
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted my phone.”
“Did you give it to him?”
“No.”
“Then why are you calling me now?”
“Because this is a burner.”
“Where is your real phone?”
“With Neil.”
Daniel muttered, “That explains the shutdown.”
I said, “How did you get away?”
“Security truck came up the ramp.”
“Airport security?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then?”
“Neil moved behind a concrete pillar and told me to walk.”
“He let you go?”
“No.”
Martin’s voice broke.
“I ran.”
I looked at Ortiz.
His face had changed.
This was no longer a family problem with corporate implications.
It was an active fugitive problem.
“Where is Neil now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is Marcus?”
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“Mom.”
“What?”
“He took Marcus’s badge.”
The missing credential.
I looked at Daniel.
“Neil has vendor access.”
Daniel was already moving.
Ortiz grabbed his radio.
May you like
“Lock down cargo-side access points and identify Neil Carrow immediately.”
The vehicle erupted into controlled activity.
