committee’s hearing tomorrow. He made me dig up a Subject Matter Expert and drag the poor man down here to help me develop a list of questions. This is Captain Kelley, by the way.”
The guard was thorough … and slow. But eventually, the badge with a big red V on it was handed over. Jim clipped it to his collar.
Playing his part, Jim said, “All right, Miss Mendez. Let’s get to work. We don’t have long if this hearing starts at nine.”
She nodded and led him through the metal detectors to an elevator bank. They stepped inside and the door closed behind them. She stared fixedly at the doors as if she was uncomfortable being in a confined space with him.
“What’s going on, Al? I can’t remember the last time I saw you so wired.”
The door opened. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
She followed him down a long hallway to a walnut door with a brass panel on it announcing this to be the office of Chester V. Chandler, the junior senator from Nebraska. She swiped her badge and then keyed a number on the pad below the card reader. A green light beeped and she pushed open the door.
They stepped into a darkened room. She reached past him to turn on the lights. With a quick gasp to announce it, she managed to get her feet tangled up and he had to grab her fast to keep her from falling over. Typical Mendez. He bit back a grin at the sight of her cheeks reddening.
“Lock that door behind you,” she mumbled.
He did so and turned around. Alex had already disappeared into the next room. He followed her in time to see her sit down behind a big mahogany desk and open a laptop computer sitting on it. Interested to see what had her so freaked out, he moved around behind her to look over her shoulder.
It booted up and she rapidly typed in a long password comprised of random letters and numbers.
“Impressive,” he commented. “How long did it take you to hack that?”
“Chet gave me the password months ago.”
“Seriously?” That surprised him. If the guy had secrets to keep, why would he hand out his password to some junior aide?
“Whenever he has computer problems, I’m his go-to girl.” She added dryly, “Turns out I have a bit of a knack with electronics.”
“You’re kidding,” he retorted, matching her sarcasm. By the time she’d hit her teens, it had been clear she’d inherited her dad’s gift for gadgets. He’d never seen a mechanical device of any kind that could best either one of them. Of course, the army had spent years further training her natural talent until she was downright frightening.
“Here it is,” she announced as she clicked on a file icon. As it loaded, she stood up. “Sit down and take a look at this.”
He replaced her in the leather desk chair. An email message popped up on the screen.
The package has been taken. ETA final destination 6:00 a.m. local. Will report when contents have been secured and delivery confirmation sent.
“Mendez, have you lost it? Why do I care about some damned package?”
“Look at the date of the message,” she replied.
“The twentieth of August. Big deal.”
“Wasn’t that the day your sister was kidnapped?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Check out this note.” She leaned over his shoulder to click on another email stored in the same file, and he was startled to register that she smelled good. Like fresh-cut hay, sweet and warm.
Another note popped up.
Delivery confirmation received. Recipient has not responded, however. Request further instructions.
And then a third note.
We need you to lean on HK. Make him understand what will happen if he doesn’t play ball.
Disquiet started to rumble in Jim’s gut. His father, Hank Kelley, had initially kept Lana’s kidnapping secret from the rest of the family. Hank had refused to pay a ransom and had told the kidnappers he would never bend to blackmail. Still, these vague notes didn’t come close to constituting proof that Chet Chandler knew about his sister’s kidnapping.
But then Alex opened one last message. This one contained a video clip and took several seconds to load. A room came into view from the perspective of a camera mounted high in the corner looking down on the space. A woman sat in a chair in the middle of the room. Her ankles and wrists bore metal cuffs secured to the chair. And she was blindfolded. But Jim didn’t have to see her entire face to know it was Lana.
He leaped to his feet. “Sonofa—” he exclaimed. Senator Chet Chandler was involved in his sister’s kidnapping? He’d kill the guy. Or worse, expose him. He’d ruin the bastard. Nobody messed with his little sister and got away with it.
“Copy these files for me,” Jim ground out. “I’ll have them in front of a grand jury first thing in the morning.”
“You can’t,” Alex replied. “We don’t have a warrant to search this computer.”
“Then get one!”
“By the time we get a judge to sign off on one, Chandler would hear about it and erase these before we ever get here.”
“Make me a copy of the damned things anyway,” Jim growled. “Illegally obtained or not, I want the evidence on the slime ball. I will find a way to take him down.”
Without comment, Alex reached into her pocket for a flash drive. She plugged it into the side of the senator’s computer and reached over Jim’s shoulder to strike several keys. “Done.”
“What else has Chandler got on this system?” Jim demanded.
“I don’t—” She broke off as the outer office door beeped. “Get over on the couch,” she whispered. “Write something down on this, fast.” She threw him a yellow legal pad, slammed the screen on the laptop shut, and raced for the outer office door.
He heard her say pleasantly from the other room, “Hey, Parker. Mike said you’d stop by. How’s Marly?”
Impressed, Jim listened to her and the guard chat about the guy’s apparently about-to-have-a-baby wife. Man. Alex really was cool under pressure. The guard poked his head into the senator’s office and Jim looked up from his legal pad casually. He nodded at the guard, who nodded back.
In a few moments, the fellow left and Alex came back into the office. She picked up where they’d left off. “Here’s the thing,” she explained. “If I copy the entire contents of the senator’s hard drive, it’ll only give us a snapshot of what’s on the system this very minute. I’d rather have a way to track what he’s doing from day-to-day.”
“Can you do that?” Jim asked.
“I don’t have the gear with me to do it tonight, but I can get the stuff and plant a transmitter on his motherboard. But I’ll need to set up another computer
