Best Laid Plans(53)

But even Sean had to admit Barry had a good track record. Sean had called Kate Donovan, Lucy’s sister-in-law, earlier that day just to get her two cents on Lucy’s temporary partner. Kate, who taught at Quantico, had been an agent for eighteen years and knew Bureau business better than most anyone. Kate said there were no blemishes on Crawford’s record; he’d asked to transfer to San Antonio to be closer to his family when his father became ill. Crawford’s family lived half an hour outside of town.

Barry wasn’t a chatty cop, either, which was fine with Sean. Sean motioned for him to sit in the chair across from Worthington’s desk. When he had booted up Worthington’s computer and made sure everything was how it should be, he sent the FBI techs in the van outside a text message asking if they were ready. As soon as the bug detected a live call, it would start transmitting. They would then use software Sean had designed to track it. Sean planned on keeping the call going as long as it took to nail down the location.

A few seconds later the techs confirmed they were in position. “Show time,” he said to Barry.

He picked up Worthington’s phone and dialed Lucy on the house phone. Two rings later Lucy answered. “Hey, princess, you’re home.”

“Just walked in a few minutes ago. Where are you?”

“Still at HWI.” Sean monitored the transmitting bug from his tablet, which showed that the bug was still active. Good. The techs outside should be able to pinpoint the location of the receiver quickly.

“I thought you’d be done by now. I picked up barbecue from your favorite place.”

“The Rib House? You’re killing me. I’m starving.”

“I’ll keep it warm.”

“Give me another hour or so.”

“Find something odd?”

“Their systems are in good shape, but Harper seemed to be obsessed with these files that came over from the BLM a few weeks ago. I’m trying to figure out his arcane note system. Why can’t everyone use computers?”

“Not everyone is as good as you.”

“No one is as good as me,” Sean teased. “You sound tired. Tough day?”

“Long day.”

“Everyone’s asking me about how he died. His employees all seemed to like him. I haven’t heard one negative comment.”

“The coroner hasn’t issued a report yet. It’s still ruled suspicious. They’re running an expanded tox screen since the initial screen came back negative.”

“They must have seen something.”

“His liver was slightly enlarged. Remember the nurse in San Diego?”

“You mean the nurse who was killing her cancer patients? Who almost killed you?”

“Almost is an overstatement, sweetheart,” Lucy said. “She used a neuromuscular blocker on her victims. Almost impossible to detect unless you’re looking for it. That’s why she got away with so many murders.”

He got a text message that the FBI techs had a location for the receiver. It wasn’t in the phone box outside the building, but it wasn’t far. He responded that he’d wrap up the conversation.

“Thanks to you, she’s locked up for life. You think the same type of drug was used to kill Harper? So you really think it was a homicide?”

“What I think and what I can prove are two different things. But yeah, I think he was poisoned. We won’t know for a couple of days.”

Sean heard the doorbell ring in the background. He leaned forward, tense. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Who’s there?” he asked her.

“Just a sec.”

He refrained from telling her to be careful, especially in front of Barry Crawford, who was hanging on every word while pretending to be disinterested.

“It’s Brad Donnelly,” she said. “Hold on, I’m going to let him in.”

The phone was muffled for a second, then he heard Lucy greet Brad.

“Sean?” she said into the phone.

“What’s Donnelly doing there?” He realized he probably shouldn’t have said that, considering the phone was tapped.

Lucy, fortunately, covered. “Just stopping by to say hi.”

“I’ll get home as soon as I can,” Sean said. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Sean hung up.

Barry said, “Donnelly from the DEA?”

Sean didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up his cell phone and dialed the lead tech. “Where is it?” he asked.

“The routing station, about a mile down the road.”

“Can you get to it tonight?”

“We don’t have a warrant. Casilla said if we can talk our way in to grab it, but if we can’t, we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning.”

Typical. Sean could get in and out without being detected, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t completely trust Barry Crawford, and since he was now semiofficially involved in this FBI op, there could be issues if this ever came to trial and he had skirted the law to obtain evidence.

“Thanks,” he said. “You can leave my equipment with Lucy tomorrow.”

“Always fun to work with you, Rogan.”

“Likewise.” Sean hung up. He loved working with tech people. He understood them far better than cops.