Chapter 22
Ryan’s jaw dropped. A long moment of silence followed Caitlin’s reveal.
When he spoke, his tone was incredulous. “You?” he managed.
Caitlin nodded. “Yes. My employer, not Shane’s.
I stumbled into hell, and I couldn’t escape.
Shane was investigating for me. For our family.
Because the danger spread to all of us. He was trying to protect us.
And it got him killed.” This time, she fought back her tears, knowing that the only way to help Ryan was to provide him with as many facts as she had—and she had plenty.
Ryan was still recovering from the shock, and his mind was racing.
Caitlin was an intelligence analyst at Scott Security, Inc.
Ryan didn’t know a lot about the company or its CEO, Charles Scott.
He knew that they were an international company based in White Plains, New York, and that the clients they safeguarded were high-profile—the rich, famous, and powerful, from Hollywood celebrities to business moguls.
Their motto was: We protect our clients and what’s important to them.
The company operated under the radar, but as far as Ryan knew, there’d never been any lawsuits associated with it.
Just a stellar reputation and quiet, privileged clients.
He wasn’t na?ve; he was sure payoffs and confidentiality agreements were the tools Scott Security deployed with a vengeance to make bad situations disappear without a trace.
But no scandals involving their clients had made their way into the media.
Ryan did vaguely remember that, at one time, Emma’s recording idol, Rebecca Merland, had been followed and threatened by a stalker, and law enforcement had come up empty.
Scott Security had stepped in, ferreted out the offender, and made sure the guy was found guilty and had to endure a disproportionately punitive jail sentence.
Scott Security had resources and connections at their beck and call.
Were they slimy? Most likely. Companies like Scott didn’t keep their hands squeaky clean.
But slimy and illegal were two different things.
How well Ryan knew that after his years working for FI.
And like FI, Scott Security’s success rate was sky-high and they were in high demand.
But in Scott Security’s case—had they crossed the line for criminal reasons?
Ryan was about to find out.
“Talk to me about the company,” he instructed Caitlin.
“I remember the Rebecca Merland stalker. Oh, and that supermodel, Alison Madding, whose über-valuable blue-ribbon-winning Brussels Griffon was kidnapped while she was walking him on Rodeo Drive. Scott Security recovered the dog when the Beverley Hills Police Department came up empty-handed. That rescue was splashed all over the news.”
Caitlin gave a shaky nod. “The rescue was public but the investigation was not. Scott was careful to always keep those under wraps.”
“That’s not a surprise. Did you have a role in that investigation?”
“Yes, just as I did in many other projects. My job was to analyze all aspects of Alison’s life, video appearances, video surveillance, alarm system data, GPS car tracking, social media accounts, press releases, public media—every potential vulnerability in her life.
That was typical of what my role at Scott Security entailed. ”
Ryan was, once again, reminded of the breadth of Caitlin’s abilities. “And in doing your job, you tripped on something you weren’t supposed to find?”
“Not then. But recently, yes.”
“How?”
Caitlin sucked in her breath. “On my own time, I developed a new security operations screening process—an untried approach to penetration testing. It’s good, really good.
So I decided to test it out on Scott itself, to see if the company systems were vulnerable.
Obviously, I used an external network to probe the security systems.”
“That makes sense. Just like a real hacker would.”
“Exactly. So I went to my local Starbucks with my personal laptop, connected to their Wi-Fi, and did my thing. To say I got more than I bargained for would be the understatement of all time. I accidentally found the existence of”—Caitlin paused, using her fingers to make air quotes—“an ‘off-book’ division of Scott that only a tight group of people were privy to and a part of.”
“How high up did this go?”
“To the top. The division is headed up by Charles Scott himself, and it’s far-reaching.
I saw evidence of clandestine activities all over the world.
Criminal activities that included horrific things like killings.
I saw cryptic email exchanges, reports, even evidence that Scott himself had hired a contractor to terminate someone who was a threat to one of their clients.
And when I say far-reaching—he also has contacts in various government organizations.
” Again Caitlin paused, this time to suck in a breath.
“I panicked. I was way out of my league, unsure of what to do, and scared to death.”
“So you went to Shane.”
“Yes. I wish to God I hadn’t. Because he started his own investigation, which, for all I know, made him a mark, as well. I have no way of knowing what they knew or how they found out I had discovered their secret division.”
Caitlin’s supposition triggered a realization in Ryan’s mind. “How many times did you probe your company from that same Starbucks?”
“Three. I didn’t find the ‘off-book’ division until that last time. And I quit right then.”
“Not soon enough,” Ryan replied. “Your poking around must have raised a red flag to the IT security team, and whoever got the report went directly to Scott himself. Scott then ordered one of his trusted operatives to eliminate the problem. They conducted an investigation and zeroed in on the IP address of the New Rochelle Starbucks.”
Caitlin’s eyes widened. “After which, they must have sent someone to surveil that Starbucks. I go there every day, including the mornings I go into the office. They must have connected the network infiltration to me and that’s when they decided to eliminate me.”
“Did they know your husband was an FBI agent?”
Caitlin gave a shaky shrug. “At first? I don’t know.
They knew I was married. Shane is the beneficiary of the group life insurance I receive as a company benefit.
When they targeted me, they must have dug up that information.
After that, they have enough resources, not only to know all about Shane, but to figure out he was poking around.
And Kennedy…” Caitlin’s voice broke. “She’s old enough for them to suspect she might have overheard something.
And they’re ruthless enough to kill an innocent child.
If I doubted that before, I no longer do.
The fire and the phone call I heard your mother describing was, at the very least, a warning, and at worst, attempted murder.
It’s my fault.” Caitlin covered her face and began to weep.
“Everything that’s happening. It’s all on me. ”
“No.” Ryan gave an adamant shake of his head, his tone decisive. “Caity, stop. You’re as much a victim as Shane and Kennedy.”
He waited until she’d calmed down, lowered her hands, and had gotten herself under control.
Then, he continued. “Blaming yourself is not only wrong, it’s counterproductive.
Let’s put our heads together and get at some basics we can work with.
For example, did you see Shane’s killer?
Did he see you? Clearly, you were on the scene at some point.
Your blood was found on the floor, along with Shane’s.
How did it get there? Are you injured? And if you did see the killer, can you describe him to me? ”
Caitlin digested all Ryan’s questions, unsurprised by any of them.
“For starters, I’m fine. I cut myself on an edge of Shane’s shattered cell phone.
No big deal. And, yeah, I saw the killer, although he was covered in black from head to toe.
Plus, I didn’t see him up close. He didn’t see me.
I hid under the staircase near the hallway.
I guess that makes me a coward.” Caitlin’s voice cracked again, and fresh tears began to flow.
“It doesn’t make you a coward, it makes you smart,” Ryan replied. “Sweetie, there was nothing you could do to stop what happened. And it would have destroyed Shane if you got hurt or killed. Not to mention what it would do to Kennedy.”
Caitlin gave a shaky nod. “It was over in seconds, but it felt like slow motion playing out. I heard the shot even before I ducked under the staircase. After the SOB ran, I checked Shane’s vitals a half dozen times. It was too late. I operated on autopilot. I’m sure you know the rest.”
“Tell me what you remember about him.”
“He was tall. Lean and light on his feet.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “That’s all I remember. I’ve thought about it nonstop, but nothing else is coming.”
“You were in shock.” Ryan pursed his lips.
“Listen, Caity, let me talk to the rest of my team. This investigation just made a one-eighty. We need to figure out a strategy. Our key goals will be to expose Scott and his people, get them thrown in jail without a key, and, most important of all, to bring you home.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Give me time, just a little. Now get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Offices of Forensic Instincts
Second Floor
Tribeca, Manhattan, New York
Saturday, March 18, Midnight
Casey began the Zoom meeting on time, with the entire team ready to get started. Most of them were Zooming either from home or a hotel room, other than Ryan and Claire, who were at FI, along with Casey. Casey was alone in the conference room, and Claire and Ryan were in Ryan’s lair.
All eyes were on Casey.