Best Laid Plans(94)

Sean formulated a plan. By the time he was done with her, Mona Hill would do anything he wanted her to.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE



Barry was waiting for Lucy as soon as she walked into FBI headquarters. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t even have time to go to her desk. She followed Barry to one of the pool cars. “What happened?” she asked as they pulled out.

“Your idea about the bus route panned out. I had a couple analysts making calls to drivers and we found the stop our Gary used more often than all the others. I was about to send a couple agents out in the field to canvass, see if they could get a positive ID on the guy before we go out there, when Zach found him based on our description and neighborhood.”

“Zach is the best.”

“Gary is Gary Ackerman. He’s dead. Shot to death Sunday night in his studio apartment. I got it cleared by SAPD and we’re going there now.” Barry tapped a file that was on the seat between them. “That’s the report.”

Lucy opened it. Gary Ackerman was fifty-five, the same age as Harper Worthington. He had been born and raised in San Antonio. He’d been in the military for twelve years, retiring after serving two tours during Desert Storm. Returned, had trouble finding steady work, until he landed a job as a long-haul truck driver. His career was cut short when—while walking across the street—he was hit by a car. The driver was never found, and Gary woke up with brain damage and blindness in one eye. He lived on disability and a small military pension, had no credit cards, paid cash for everything, and the only thing he used his bank account for was to receive his disability checks—which he promptly withdrew the day they were deposited, never going into the same branch twice in a row.

He was shot twice in the chest Sunday night. Motive unknown, possibly theft. A small laptop that his neighbor said he was never without was missing, but nothing else.

“This isn’t a coincidence,” Lucy said.

“No, it’s not. Did you get to the last page?”

She flipped to the back and read a note Zach had written.



Gary Ackerman graduated high school with both Harper Worthington and former congressman Roy Travertine. Worthington and Travertine went on to college and Ackerman joined the air force. He has a pseudonymous Web site, The Truth Files, which is all about conspiracies, mostly government and military related. Before Travertine’s death, Ackerman was a regular volunteer on his campaign and served in a nonpaying role as the head of a group called Veterans for Travertine. It’s the only political activity Ackerman has on record. His accident was five years ago, he was lucky to survive. Most of his rants on his Web site appear to be harmless. But some of his insights were proven accurate over the years by subsequent events. For example, three years ago he wrote about a governor in another state and claimed that he had embezzled money out of a fund he created, based on one line in an obscure newspaper article. Last year, the governor was indicted for embezzling—not from that specific fund, but from the prison system, conspiring with his brother-in-law who worked for the bureau of prisons.



But the big thing? Adeline Reyes-Worthington got a restraining order against him seven years ago, during her first election campaign. Don’t have the details—it was filed in D.C.



“Gary Ackerman must be the guy Harper met with,” Lucy said. “It explains the note about Travertine on the tablet. Maybe that’s how Ackerman got in to see him.”

“What it doesn’t explain is what they talked about or why Ackerman set him up at the motel.”

“If Ackerman set him up.”

“What other logical explanation is there? There was a restraining order against him—”

“To stay away from Adeline.”

“Still. Would her husband trust him?”

“It seems that way.”

“Or Ackerman came up with a way to punish Adeline by killing her husband.” Even as Barry said it, his tone suggested he didn’t believe it.

“He doesn’t have the resources, and he’s a paranoid conspiracy theorist,” Lucy said. “Someone could have known that Harper was meeting with Ackerman.”

“It’s more likely that Ackerman was hired to set Harper up—or possibly threatened to set him up—and then killed to keep him quiet.”

Certainly possible, Lucy thought.

Barry didn’t speak for the rest of the short drive. He was preoccupied and more serious than usual.

They showed their badges to the apartment manager, who let them into Ackerman’s studio.

The one-room facility was clean but cluttered. The twin bed was made military neat; the kitchenette was in perfect order with no dishes in the sink. But there was little space to move around. Each wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. They were packed with books, binders, and file folders. On a desk, under the lone window which looked out onto the street, was a power cord. It went with a Toshiba laptop that was no longer on the desk. While the desk was completely clear, there were stacks of files under the desk, all labeled.

“Other than the laptop, we can’t possibly know if anything was taken,” Lucy said.

“Don’t be so sure of that,” Barry said. “I’ve known guys like Ackerman. Once we figure out his logic, we’ll know if anything is missing.”