“What?” he bellowed when she was connected to his room.
She grinned. “Just checking in.”
“I’m leaving today, but they won’t let me leave until the fuckin’ doctor signs my form, and he’s in surgery.” Bernie coughed several times. “But I’m good. I’ll be back to work next week.”
Somebody, probably his wife, protested loudly in the background.
“Or maybe the week after,” Bernie amended.
“Awesome.” God, she missed him. “I’ll pop by later tonight once you’re home.” She had to see for herself that he was all right.
“Bring beer,” he whispered.
She laughed. “I’ll sneak some in.” She clicked off.
Her phone rang, and she answered. “Monzelle.”
“Hey Lex.” Sylvia popped gum loudly. “I took a look at your video, and I think it’s in pretty good shape. If I run up at lunch, will you give me the USB or DVD? It’d be easier to take a look at the original, especially since I had to turn over my copy.”
Lex kicked back and stretched her neck. “We don’t have the original. It was e-mailed to Bundt.”
Sylvia popped again. “Nope, couldn’t have been. We’ve been working on the external and larger servers all week, remember? I sent out a notice last Friday?”
Lex shrugged. She rarely paid attention to computer stuff. “I’m sure it was e-mailed.”
“Nope. Not a chance. Our e-mail accounts wouldn’t have accepted a video the size of that one. Somebody must have had the original in order to deposit it on the internal server like that.” More gum crackled. “Drop me a line when you get the scoop.” She hung up.
Lex frowned and shoved away from her desk. Her mind clicked facts into gear. Somebody knew Spike had been talking to the cops. Was there a cop involved? She thought about her dad’s letter, about his friend, the warrior on the outside who took letters from Jennie. A warrior? Maybe a cop? All those times Mom had dropped by to go to coffee or lunch, had she also been meeting with somebody?
Before her disease had taken a bad turn and she’d stopped visiting?
Bundt strode in from the break room, a cup of coffee in his hand. “This stuff is shit,” he muttered.
Lex forced a smile. “Hey, I’ve been thinking about the video of the Dunne men burying poor Spike. Did the feds confiscate it?”
“Yep.” Bundt blew on his coffee and sat, his broad shoulders blocking his computer screen. “Fuckers.”
“Definitely.” She stretched her neck and tried to look casual. “Maybe there’s a chance we could trace the e-mail account where it came from?”
He shrugged. “We already asked the techs to take a look at it, but they haven’t had any luck.”
Bullshit. She nodded. “Oh well.” All the times her mother had visited ran through her head. Several times Jennie had brought cookies for the gang, and she usually made an extra batch for Bundt and Masterson. Jesus. Had Bundt been part of Masterson being shot? She stood. “It might be shit coffee, but it’s all we’ve got.” Acting as if she had all the time in the world, she loped into the break room, where Masterson sat on an orange chair, scarfing down a jelly donut.
Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and lines of pain fanned out by his mouth. “Hey.”
She frowned. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just had physical therapy, but I can’t take pain pills and do the job, so I’m sucking it up.” He shoveled in pastry. “What’s up?”
She poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’ve been thinking about the e-mail with the video of the Dunnes. Any clue where it came from?”
“Dunno,” Masterson said. “Ask Bundt. It came to his address.”
Yeah, she’d figured.
“I think we might have a problem.” She sat and pulled out her cell phone, quickly dialing her mother.
“Hello, sweetie,” her mom said.
Lex lowered her voice, while Masterson looked on, his eyebrows up. “Mom? Right now, I need you to tell me the truth. Who’s Dad’s warrior on the outside—the one helping him be a warrior on the inside?”
“Oh my,” Jennie said, her voice loud enough Masterson could probably hear it. “Oh my.”
“Now, Mom.”
“Lexi, you have to understand. Your dad saw the error of his ways, and he tried to do good. He has been helping a policeman on the outside to get rid of the drug trade on the inside of the prison. He’s a hero.” A honk sounded in the background.
Lex frowned. “Mom? Where are you?”
“On an errand in a cab. Please don’t be mad at your friend,” her mom implored.
Heat flushed down Lex to slam into her stomach. “I won’t,” she lied.
Bundt walked into the break room and headed straight for more coffee. Lex eyed the gun strapped to his hip. He was fast, and he was good. Masterson lifted an eyebrow.
She shook her head. First, she needed confirmation. “Mom? Tell me.”
Bundt whistled, poured a gallon of sugar into his coffee, smacked his partner on the shoulder, and sauntered out.