What Have You Done(70)

53

The pounding on the door resonated through the tiny apartment. He could hear footsteps approaching. “I’m coming!” a voice shouted from inside. “Damn, man, hang on a sec.” The deadbolt turned, the chain lock unfastened, and the door opened. “Oh, hey,” Rocco said, his voice catching in his throat just a bit. “What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Dude, it’s late.”

“It’s important.”

“Okay.”

“Can I come in?”

“I guess so. But you gotta make it quick. I’m bingeing on American Horror Story. Been watching nonstop since yesterday. Completely addicted.”

Sean stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He’d been in Rocco’s apartment several times before. Rocco flopped down in the chair by his desk. His computers were still running. It was only a question of what they were running, and Sean really didn’t care.

“How can I help you?”

“Don and I are working on a case, and I know he dropped off something for you to take a look at. You get that done for him?”

Rocco spun around in his chair so his back was to Sean. He was quiet for a moment. “Sorry to inform you, but Detective Carpenter didn’t come by here.”

“He did. It’s okay. I know he did. He told me. Said he needed you to take a look at something for us, but he forgot to tell me exactly what it was that needed your expertise. I was in the neighborhood, so I figured I’d stop by to see what you found. We’re working the case together.”

“I’m telling you, he wasn’t here.”

Sean leaned over and turned the chair back around. “Rocco, I’m not screwing around. I need whatever he gave you, and I need to know what you found.”

Rocco swallowed once, his eyes locked on Sean’s. “I’m not screwing with you,” he said slowly, carefully, as if each word needed to be formed before it could come out of his mouth. “Detective Carpenter didn’t come by here. I don’t have a drive.”

“Ah, so it was a drive.”

In a flash of movement, Sean grabbed his gun and pressed it against Rocco’s head. He pulled the hammer back and leaned in. Rocco was about to scream, but before he could, Sean pushed his hand against his mouth so all that came out was a muffled sound, too low for the neighbors to hear.

“No more lies,” Sean said. He was panting and shaking as his adrenaline kicked in. “I get it that you want to keep a secret my partner asked you to keep, but this is bigger than you, and I need answers.”

Rocco nodded over and over.

“I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth. You scream, and I end you.”

Again, Rocco nodded emphatically.

Sean let go of his mouth, and Rocco immediately fell forward in panic, tears streaming down his face.

“Tell me what he gave you.”

“I don’t have anything! Don came here and asked me to decrypt a file. I already gave it back to him. I swear I don’t have it. I swear!”

“Did you see what was on it?”

Rocco took a deep breath. “Come on, man! Don’t make me do this.”

Sean pressed the gun harder against Rocco’s temple. “Did you see what was on it?!”

“Pictures! Pictures of you and some chick. I don’t know her. Never seen her before.”

“Did you make a copy?”

“No!”

“What else?”

“GPS coordinates taken from a boat. It showed the route some boat took to like five or six destinations.”

“Whose boat?”

“I don’t know. It didn’t say.”

“Whose boat?”

“I swear, I don’t know whose boat it was. You gotta believe me. Penn’s Landing Marina. That’s all I know. Detective Carpenter has the flash drive. That’s all I know!”

Sean finally took the gun away and straightened up. “I believe you,” he said. “But I can’t have any loose ends. This has already gotten way too out of control.”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“I need to set things straight.”

“No! No! I won’t say anything. I won’t!”

Sean shook his head as he grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk. “I’m sorry.”





54

As the sun rose over the horizon, Liam stood by the locked gate that closed off visitors from the amusement rides. From this vantage point, he could see everyone who came onto the boardwalk, and should the police close in, he had a route that would help him escape unseen through the small alleyway that led back out to the streets. The boardwalk at Point Pleasant was deserted. It was still early, and the air coming off the Atlantic was cold. A mist hid most of the beach, but he could still hear the waves crashing onto the sand, one after the other.

Don approached slowly, his head on a swivel. His hands were in the pockets of his trench coat, the oversized collar turned up to protect him from the wind. He walked up the ramp that led from the road and stopped.

Liam waited a few minutes to ensure he was alone and then stepped out so Don could see him. “Over here.”

Don made his way toward him, and they walked into a dark alley. The sounds of the ocean were muted here, the wind only a simple breeze.