Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“What do we know?” Emmett asked from the front of Echo’s conference room.
Janie appeared stiff and tense as she sat in a chair not far from where he stood. Her expression was an equal mixture of both anger and grief. His chest grew tight, and he wished like hell there was something he could say or do to take away her pain.
There is something you can do. You can find Amy Weaver’s killer.
“The cops are keeping a tight lid on this one.” Gwen was the first one to speak. “I called around on my way here. Tried reaching the lead detective…his name was Boone, right? Anyway he wasn’t available, and no one else would give me the time of day.”
“Maybe you need to do a better job at turning on the charm,” Draven teased.
The spunky blonde sent their teammate a sugary sweet grin. “You wanna give it a shot? Be my guest.”
When Draven opened his mouth to respond, Blake cut the other man off at the pass.
“Won’t do any good.” The tech analyst used Gwen’s last name. “We’re the new kids in town. The Feds aren’t going to talk to us without some powerful backing.”
Lucas sat back in his chair. “Can’t say I blame them, given the victim was a White House employee.”
“Only she wasn’t.” Janie turned Lucas’ way. “Not according to the updated list, anyway.”
Gwen waved the discrepancy away. “They can easily spin that to fit their narrative,” Gwen pointed out. “They’ll probably say it was a typo or that Amy unexpectedly quit.”
Emmett nodded, bringing his hands to a rest low on his hips.
“She’s right. I mean, we both heard what they said on the news earlier.
They’ve already figured out that Amy was an intern with the press office, so denying it now would only fuel the media’s suspicion.
But if they get out in front of this thing, which it appears they already have, the White House will brush it off as a harmless error on some low-level lacky’s side. ”
“And the public will buy it, of course,” Blake predicted.
“That and the suicide angle. Especially when the press gets ahold of what I just found.” After a pause, he shared with the room, “The autopsy is being conducted as we speak, so we’ll have to wait for those results until later in the day, but someone with the login number four zero eight one two uploaded Amy Weaver’s medical records into the medical examiner’s office mainframe thirty-six minutes ago, using an external file. ”
“External?” Janie’s brows dipped inward. “You mean like it came from her primary doctor’s office or something?”
Blake shook his head. “This one originated from a private server.”
“Private?” Emmett frowned as Gwen chimed back in.
“Can you get through it?” she asked Blake.
“Working on it now.” A few more taps. “Oh, and the security footage from the hotel is a no-go,” he revealed while continuing to type.
“There’s nothing?” Emmett’s stomach churned with dread.
“Nada.” Blake met his troubled gaze. “Same deal as with Amy Weaver’s apartment building.
Janie’s floor goes dark a few minutes before she gets there, and it’s back up and running fine shortly after our guy made his escape.
Only difference this time is there weren’t any cameras in the actual hotel suite. ”
“Not to point out the obvious,” Lucas began, “but if those cameras went down right before Janie got to the hotel, that means—”
“They were most likely watching me.”
All eyes went to Janie, who’d turned her focus back to Emmett.
“You’re safe with us,” he repeated his earlier sentiment.
The air around them became filled with the sounds of Blake returning to the keys as Janie once again looked the other man’s way.
“Going back to what you said about the public buying the suicide narrative,” she prompted Blake. “If the autopsy hasn’t been completed yet, how can you be so sure?”
“Because according to this, Amy Weaver had a long history of mental illness.” The man spoke while he worked. “It’s well-documented, too. Including two previous suicide attempts, which are laid out all nice and neat by a reputable shrink here in the city.”
“Hold up.” Lucas lifted his hand a few inches into the air and turned his focus Emmett’s way. “How would someone with a history like that get the clearance to work in the West Wing in the first place?”
Blake stopped what he was doing and looked at his teammate with a knowing grin. “I wondered the same thing, which is why I’m running a reverse trace on the uploaded files.”
“Reverse trace?” Janie shifted her frowning face the genius’ way. “You mean like figuring out where the file originally came from?”
“Where, when, and with any luck, who.”
The sexy journalist’s frown disappeared. “You think the information in Amy’s records was falsified,” she guessed.
“I think the White House does a damn good job at vetting the people who work there.” Blake kept his focus on the small screen before him.
“You’re in the press world.” Emmett looked to Janie. “What do you think?”
As he waited for her response, he tried his best not to think of the almost-kiss from that morning. If his phone hadn’t rang . . . If Amy Weaver’s body hadn’t been discovered . . .
I would have tasted what I’ve been craving since I met her. And I would have ruined the reputation of this entire office in the process.
Janie’s head moved slowly from side to side, sending some of her long hair over one shoulder. “As far as I know, most places don’t ask for your mental health history when applying for a job. But then again, the White House isn’t most places.”
Gwen huffed with a smirk. “Those guys do a deep dive on every person on their payroll, not to mention, most need top-secret security clearance. No way they’d leave something like that to chance. Not for someone with access to the West Wing.”
“Wouldn’t something like this reflect poorly on the administration, though?
” Draven asked the room. He leaned forward, resting his beefy arms on the table’s smooth surface.
“I mean, if the White House really is behind what happened to Amy, why plant a fake mental history that’s almost guaranteed to bring blow-back on their decision to hire her in the first place? ”
“It depends.” Gwen shrugged. “The way I see it, they could spin this thing in a couple different directions. Either they play the part of an administration that supports those struggling with mental health by giving them an opportunity most people could only dream of, or they take a hit on their lack of due diligence and probably lay the blame on some poor shmuck on the bottom rung. Either way, the story will be dead within two news cycles.” To Janie, she added a hurried, “No pun intended.”
“No, you’re right,” Janie agreed. “It may not even make more than one.”
Emmett crossed his arms at his chest. “Why do you say that?”
Her stunning gaze met his as she explained the cold, hard truth.
“Because as much as they like to think otherwise, the majority of the public doesn’t care about a single, suicidal woman who had no family or friends to miss her.
As for the matter of her employment, there are hundreds of people in this town connected to the White House.
Without a tidbit of a scandal to pursue, one of those hundreds dying, especially by their own hand, will sadly be nothing more than a quick glimpse and a scroll. ”
And after that, they’ll move on to the next juicy story. This is D.C., after all.
“Well I for one think it’s obvious Amy Weaver was involved in something she shouldn’t have been,” Lucas spoke up again.
He turned his blue eyes Janie’s way. “You start asking questions about her around town, and then you’re followed .
. . and a day after that, you’re attacked?
” A quick shake of his dark head. “As far as I’m concerned, all roads lead back to Amy, and whatever she’d been planning to tell you. ”
Several muttered agreements rounded the room before Emmett turned his attention back to Blake. “How long before we have the forensics report from the scene?”
“I’m pulling it up now.” His fingers worked across the keys. A second later, however, they froze as Blake’s face became twisted with what appeared to be confusion. “Well that’s weird.”
“What?” Emmett rumbled.
“The forensic files have been blocked. More than usual, even for the Feds.”
“How bad?” Draven asked.
“We’re talking multiple layers of high-level encryption.” Blake resumed his efforts to access the file.
“So you can’t get to it?” Janie looked his way with a frown.
“I can, but it’s going to take me a couple hours. Maybe three.”
Her gaze swung Emmett’s way. “Do you have any sort of connection with the M.E.’s office? Maybe we can go down there ourselves.” An idea struck. “Amy didn’t have any family, right? Maybe I could be her family.”
“That’s not a bad idea, boss,” Gwen mused from a few seats away. “But why don’t you let me give Talia a call, first?”
Draven’s head tilted to the side. “Why Talia?”
“Back when she was taken, I remember Jagger mentioning something about her friend. The one who lives here. Scarlett Somethingorother.”
“Dr. Scarlett O’Neill,” Blake offered while multitasking. “Apparently the woman’s a forensics specialist extraordinaire. Or that’s how Talia made her sound, anyway.”
Janie’s pretty stare came back to Emmett’s in a rush. “And she’s here? In D.C.?”
To Gwen, Emmett said, “Make the call. See if Talia can convince her friend to get us in with the M.E.”
“What if she can’t?” Janie asked as if she were already preparing for a plan B.
A woman after my own heart.
Emmett cleared his throat. “Then we’ll find someone else who can.”
He wasn’t giving up. Not only because their future with R.I.S.C. depended on it, but because the people responsible for Amy Weaver’s death needed to be brought to justice.
To Blake, Emmett ordered, “Keep trying to break through those encryptions. Let me know when you’ve got something on that front. Gwen, same with Talia. The sooner the better.”
“On it, boss,” the two teammates spoke in unison.