“No, not Jon.” Jonathan Tweed was proficient enough that he could probably figure this stuff out. But Sean wanted to keep him out of this since he was on the vetting team for the senator. Not to mention, Tweed would think that Sean and Em had lost their shit.
“Then who?” Emily asked. She kept her eyes fixed on Mole Face, who disappeared into the bar.
Sean put the phone to his ear.
“Hey, Dad,” Ryan answered. “What’s up? Do you know where Mom is? She’s not home and we’re getting hungry and—”
“Mom’s with me. We’re running late. How about you order a pizza? You can take money from the jar in the kitchen.”
“Okay,” his son said. He heard Ryan tell Jack about the pizza, which was followed by a “Yes!”
“We hoped you could help us with something,” Sean said.
“Sure.”
“We need you to do some research for us on the Internet.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. “On the computer, by myself?”
“Yes, can you do that?”
“Sure,” Ryan replied, with pride in his voice. “What do you need?”
Sean explained. Try to find who owned the Range Rover and who lived at two addresses. He gave Ryan the information.
“No problem,” Ryan said. “But Dad…”
“Yeah?”
“I need the password. My iPod needs Wi-Fi, and I’m locked out of the computers…”
“Sorry, of course. Our password is T-R-U-S-T, trust,” he said.
“Aw, come on!” Ryan said, a playful lilt in his voice. Sean felt a warmth fall over him. He hadn’t heard Ryan sound like himself since his son’s encounter with the detective running the Billy Brice murder investigation.
“Thanks for your help, buddy. You and Jack eat, and we’ll be home soon.” Sean clicked off.
“So what now?” Sean said to Emily. “We just wait until he comes out of the bar?”
“Actually,” Emily said, “I had another idea.”
CHAPTER 65
They lingered in the softly lit hallway of the condo building. It hadn’t been hard to get in—no doorman, so they just waited for a tenant to exit the lobby doors. The man leaving even held the door for the well-dressed woman with a beautiful smile.
The line of mailboxes at the entrance were labeled. S. FINKLE was in unit 1015. Next thing, Sean found himself outside Mole Face’s door. He watched, speechless, as Emily pulled a thin sheath of metal from her purse. She stuck one end in the door’s lock, wiggled it around, and the door clicked open. She looked at Sean, seeming surprised herself that the apparatus worked.
“Internet,” she explained.
How long had she been planning this? She’d spent the past few days secretly following this man, and, given that she’d acquired burglar tools, she’d obviously planned on breaking in. They were in felony territory. What the hell were they doing?
“This is crazy,” he whispered. His eyes darted about the hallway. It was late in the day and people would be coming home from work soon. He then scanned the ceiling, looking for security cameras but saw none.
“The file on Ryan is in there, Sean. We need to do this.”
“We don’t need to do anything. We have a deal with Mason James—we just need to stay out of his business, and he’ll stay out of ours.” A deal with the Devil.
“You made that deal, not me,” she said. And Sean understood there would be no stopping her. She wanted the file on their son. She’d gone from immobilized over Abby’s death to irrationally fixated on protecting Ryan and getting to the truth about Mason James. But who was Sean to judge? He’d acted pretty irrationally himself. And his actions had led to Billy Brice’s death. But he couldn’t let Emily go into the condo. Their kids needed at least one parent who wasn’t at risk for prosecution.
“Fine,” Sean said, “but you’re not going in—I am. You go out front and keep watch. Call my phone now, and we’ll keep an open line. You can warn me if Finkle leaves the bar.” The situation had become far too serious to use a ridiculous nickname.
Emily looked hard at Sean but didn’t argue. She dug into her handbag for her phone, dialed Sean’s number, and confirmed he could hear her on his end. The elevator down the hall dinged.
“Go,” Sean said, in a loud whisper. “Keep the line open and you tell me if you see him.” Sean slipped into the condo, praying that the person leaving the elevator wasn’t Sebastian Finkle.
CHAPTER 66
Sean ducked into a coat closet near the door, his phone pressed hard to his ear. No beeping alarm system, which was a relief, but he heard voices in the hallway.
Emily’s voice whispered in his ear. “Coast clear. It wasn’t him on the elevator.”
Sean let out an audible breath. “Okay, keep an eye on the front and tell me if you see him.”