“Lay it on me, sister.”
“A few days ago, Ethan Montclair asked me if passwords could be changed remotely.”
“I remember. Of course they can.”
“Could someone from outside be watching their cyber tracks?”
“With all the malware the Montclairs have on their computers, the Russians could be spying on them. But, Holly, it’s been pretty clear all along Montclair was the one spying on his wife.”
“What if it wasn’t him? Is it possible to mimic the IP address so it looks like it came from his computer?”
“Again, sure. But you don’t think Montclair is innocent of all this now, do you?”
“I don’t know what to think. But tell me this. If someone wanted to really screw with a person, make it look like they’ve been harassing someone, it’s doable, right?”
Jim started to look excited, all notes of exhaustion gone from his voice. “Are you saying there’s a third party involved?”
“Exactly what I’m saying.”
“Montclair’s been claiming this Colin Wilde person has been harassing him and his wife for months now.”
“And everything we have says Colin Wilde is a sock puppet created by Montclair to terrorize his wife, to cut her down, ruin her career. That Montclair himself was responsible for all of it. But what if we’re wrong? What if Colin Wilde is real?”
“I’ll bite. Who is he?”
“If Sutton Montclair is to be believed, he’s probably a man named Trent Duggan. And he’s working with Ivy Brookes.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Come again? Where are you getting all of this? Brookes is your most reliable witness.”
“She has been, yes. But Sutton Montclair is sitting in a Paris jail cell, and claims Brookes helped her plan a getaway, and she left her rings in her possession. If that’s true, then Ivy Brookes is our murderer.”
“You found Sutton Montclair?”
“Sure did. Just got a call from the French police. They’ve got her for murder. A double murder, actually. She’s denying it, of course, and the Paris inspector on the case seems to feel Sutton is innocent. And I’ll tell you, Jim, Montclair never felt right to me for all of this. It didn’t jibe. Why systematically try to ruin your wife? Why not just divorce, or leave? He may not be Captain America, but he doesn’t strike me as the malicious type.”
“You’ve always been starry-eyed for him.”
“I’m going to ignore that statement, and when it turns out I’m right, you can apologize over a steak dinner.”
Jim’s eyes lit up. “Deal. So what do you want me to do?”
“If Brookes is behind this, there will be a trace, right? There’s no way to do it completely clean.”
“Yes, that’s true. And there is a phantom IP address that came through with all the others, one from here in Franklin that I haven’t been able to track down. It went through about fifty routers, bounced all over the world. It doesn’t seem to be registered anywhere, though. It’s a loose thread.”
“You find it for me, Jim. Stop looking inside, and look at it from the outside. As if someone is purposefully misleading us. Knowing it could be coming from outside after all, and not from the Montclairs, you trace it down, and make sure it’s airtight.”
“I don’t know, Holly. All the fingers point to Montclair.”
“I know they do. All of them. How often do you see a case that lines up so perfectly? How often have you ever seen a case that was so clear? Everything points at him. Everything is so neatly assembled that perhaps, perhaps, someone wanted it to look like that. And if this someone has connections to people who can forge documents, and helped Sutton Montclair get out of town... Trust me here, Jim. My gut is screaming at me. Reset your thinking on all of this, and find me some proof so I can have a nice, long chat with Ivy Brookes.”
“You really believe it’s a setup?”
“And a good one. We totally fell for it. We got all excited and arrested him, and it turned out the chick in the field wasn’t his wife and we have no actual proof of wrongdoing on his part. And his wife’s arrested in Paris for a murder, too? I don’t buy it. I think they’re being targeted. I may be wrong, but that’s where the steak comes in.”
“You better call Moreno.”
“I’m doing it right now. Right after I call Ethan. Because if we’re right, he could be in danger. We already have one dead body on our hands.”
“This is nuts, you know that.”
“I do.” She dialed Montclair’s mobile number. After six rings, it went to voice mail. She tried the house. There was no answer there, either. Her screaming gut started to hurt.
“I’m going to take a run by. I’ll call Moreno from the car.”
“Holly?”
She stopped in the door frame, hand on the knob. “Yeah?”
“Be careful. I’m looking forward to that dinner.”
She grinned at him. “Me, too.”
*
Holly was on her way to Montclair’s when the call came. She didn’t recognize the number on her screen but answered, anyway. A polite male voice, accented, said, “Is this Detective Graham?”
“It is. Who are you?”
“Would it be possible for me not to leave a name? I saw the drawing. I have a tip about the body in the field.”
She pulled to the side of the road, the car’s tires slipping in the scree as she skidded to a stop. She grabbed her notebook, put it on her knee.
“Go ahead.”
“I think her name might be Marita Gonzales. She has been missing for a week now.”
“How do you know this woman?”
“We’ve been cleaning houses together. There was an ad, in the paper, for a cleaning lady. She answered it. It was a full weekend job. She was supposed to do it last week. She did not come to our work last Monday and I have been very worried. She is a responsible woman.”
“Where does she live? Family, friends?”
A pause. “She lives with a few families in a house off Nolensville Road.”
The dime dropped for Holly. “Ah. Is she here illegally? It’s okay, I have no interest in jacking up her or her family. All I’m concerned with is identifying the victim we found and finding who might have hurt her.”
“The ad was in the paper,” he repeated. “Marita Gonzales.” And he hung up.
She called Jim as she pulled back onto the road, told him the story. “Can you find this ad, and call Forensic Medical and tell them we have a possible ID to work with?”
“I can. Also...” Silence for a moment, then the booming voice of Moreno.
“Graham. You’re turning into quite the detective. Update me.”
She did, and he said, “We’ll track down the name and the ad. Good work. I have information for you, too. The FBI caught the accomplice. They sweated him, finally offered him a deal. According to him, Brookes put him up to it all. We got a new address, too, think it might be where she’s staged this whole mess from. Jim matched it to the phantom IP. I’m sending people there now. Good thinking there, Graham.”
“Thanks. She’s slippery. We’re going to need all the help we can get to take her down.”