Angel's Breath (Fallen Angels - Book 2) (7 page)

“One of the guys I knew from the street, Larry, said his parents usually went out of town on weekends. So, we crashed at his place for the night. Turns out his folks had some kind of nanny cam set up—Larry had broken in a few times before. They got videotape of me inside the house. A nosy neighbor called the cops, and they caught Larry and me when we tried to run.”

I pressed my lips together, remembering the look the judge had given me while listening to the prosecutor’s opening statement.

“Larry’s folks bailed him out, lawyered up, and made Larry say I forced him to do it. I was in court for all of twenty minutes before they gave me two years.”

Chuck made a series of faces. “Sorry, man. Sucks. But, what you’re telling me is that you were, essentially, just a squatter who got caught.”

“That’s right.” I nodded, but kept eye contact with him.

He let out a humorless laugh. “No offense, my friend, but that doesn’t make you a die-hard criminal. It just makes you either unlucky or careless. You have to understand I have doubts.”

“Whether I’m unlucky or not,” I said, hoping my face wasn’t flushing red at Chuck’s observation, “I’ve got something you need.”

“What’s that?”

I pulled out my mother’s electronic security pass and raised it in front of me. “Access. I have my mother’s key card.”

Chuck looked at the card with obvious hunger. I slipped it back in my pocket. “But there’s a catch or two,” I said.

“Oh?”

“We have to do it this morning, between six and seven.”

Eyes widening, Chuck glanced at the time on his computer, “That’s only a few hours away. There’s no way we can get everything set up by then. Why the rush?”

I said, “Three reasons. The regular staff and workers start showing up after seven, so we need to be out of there before then.” I held a second finger up. “My mother regularly shows up between six-thirty and seven, so it won’t raise any flags when we use the card early. No one reviews the security cameras, unless they have a reason to.”

“You said three reasons,” Chuck prompted, looking concerned.

“I’m expecting my parole officer to call me in the morning. At which point I’ll be directed to turn myself over to the authorities for parole violations: namely, I got fired.” I looked Chuck square in the eye. “I can’t go back to jail, and without the card and pass code, it’s going to be impossible for you to get inside the admin building, let alone the VP’s office.”

He blinked at me, and his mouth opened, but no words came out.

I said, “I can get in and get out, fast as that. If we do this right, they’ll never have any reason to suspect anything, and by the time they figure it out, your investor will have made his deal, and we’ll all be long gone.”

Chuck opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then closed it again.

I said, “Oh, and you’re coming with me. Or no deal.”

He blinked at that, but then nodded. “All right.”

Spinning in his chair, he grabbed the energy drink can beside his monitor and guzzled it down. Finishing it, he tossed the empty can into an already overflowing recycle bin beside his desk.

“I’ll get the client to put the fee into my escrow service, and then I’ll get dressed.”

Chapter Eight

At a quarter
to six, we jumped into my car and headed for Kingsway Airfield. Before we got within sight of the main gate, I pulled over and got out of the car.

“You drive the rest of the way,” I said to Chuck.

“Me?” he asked, looking at me with a puzzled expression.

“Yeah. Just trust me.”

He shrugged and got out of the car to trade places with me. After adjusting the seat—he was quite a bit shorter than I was—he put the vehicle into gear.

“All right,” I said as we neared. “Pull up to the main gate. Let me do the talking.”

“Whatever you say. It’s your show.”

He did as I asked, and stopped the car in front of the gate.

Jorge Menendez, the night guard employed by Kingsway Airfield rather than any individual company, stepped out of the gate house and approached the car.

Chuck rolled down the window. I leaned over and smiled.

“Good morning, Mr. Riley,” Jorge said.

I nodded. “Morning, Jorge. How’s Maria?”

“Big as a house,” he said. “And as hungry as a lion.”

“Should be any day, now, right?”

He nodded and laughed. “Due date is next Tuesday.”

“Hope you’re taking some time off.”

“You know it,” he said. Then he gave me an apologetic look. “I’m afraid I can’t let you in, Mr. Riley. They gave me very explicit orders.”

“Oh, I know,” I said. “I was just hoping you could call someone from the shop and get them to bring me my wallet. I left it in my locker yesterday.”

“No one is here, yet,” he said. “Carl usually shows up around seven or seven-fifteen. You want to come back then?”

I let my face show disappointment. “I can’t. I have to be at my PO’s office by seven-thirty. He’s on the other side of the city. I can’t drive without my license.” I pointed to Chuck. “And he’s already going to be late for work.”

Chuck, picking up on my plan, turned to me. “I can still call my sister. I’m sure she’d give you lift.”

“No.” I made a face. “By the time we went back there, it’d be too late anyway,” I said, and looked around as if I could spot another solution by doing so.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jorge was weighing his decision.

“Say, Jorge,” I said. “If I gave you my key card, maybe you could lock the gate for a few minutes and go get my wallet—it’s in the admin building. Like you said, no one will show up for an hour. We’ll stay here in case anyone does come, let them know you’ll be right back. You have no idea how much I would appreciate that.”

Jorge looked at the Worldwind Avionics administration building, which seemed a lot smaller than it was from this distance. I narrowed my eyes, but didn’t see any cars in the parking lot.

“I can’t leave my post,” he said, drawing out his words. He sighed, as if resolving himself to his decision. “You promise you’ll be quick?”

“Ten minutes, tops,” I said, smiling. “In and out before anyone knows better.”

Jorge reached inside the guard shack and pressed the gate release. It slowly opened with a mechanical whirl.

“Thanks, Jorge,” I said as Chuck put the car in drive. “You just saved my bacon.”

With a nod, he waved us through.

After we were out of hearing range, Chuck made a gasping sound. “Ten minutes!”

“I thought you were some kind of hacker or something.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I wave a magic wand and we’re in.”

I made a face. “Sorry. I guess I’ve seen too many movies. How long do you need?”

“There’s no way to tell. If he has a login password, I have a program to remove it on this flash drive. We should be able to access his email and data folders, but finding what we need could take a while.”

I frowned. “Won’t he notice he doesn’t have a password anymore?”

“Only if he’s one of those people who restarts their computer often. With any luck, he won’t notice until after the press release.”

It was only as we parked in front of the admin doors that I felt the first nagging doubt about this hit-and-run plan of mine. I wished I’d had more time to think it over.

Of course, it wasn’t as if I had any other choices at this point.

* * *

This early in the morning, we were the only car there, and I prayed no one would arrive before we had a chance to finish our job.

I drew my mother’s card out of my pants pocket, and paused before getting out of the car.

“What’s the matter?” Chuck asked.

“Are you sure the information we need is in there?” I asked.

“What, are you getting cold feet?”

Yes, I was, in fact. But I shot Chuck a look of annoyance. “Just give me the stick,” I said.

Chuck handed the flash drive to me, along with a cell phone. I didn’t own one, but Chuck had an older prepaid phone which he had reactivated a few hours ago.

I took a deep breath. “I’ll call you when I’m in his office,” I said, and stepped out of the car.

The main entrance to the admin building had two full pane glass doors. To one side was a black electronic lock with a slot to swipe a magnetic key card.

Using my mother’s card, I ran it through the lock, and the small red light on top of the device turned green. I opened the door and walked inside as if I had every right to be there.

As I had hoped, no one was in the main reception area. I didn’t expect to encounter anyone while I made my way down the hall to the stairs. The night cleaning staff were usually gone by midnight or shortly thereafter.

The admin building was two stories. David Matheson’s office was on the northwest corner, facing the hangars.

I reached the top of the stairs and a second set of doors, which also required me to swipe the key card. I hesitated before doing so, feeling an abrupt pang of guilt.

In all the time I had worked for Worldwind, David Matheson had never shown me anything other than kindness. Perhaps it was just an extension of his working relationship with my mother, and he was simply being polite and professional.

Here I was breaking into his office to steal information that would give an unfair advantage to another company, who was obviously unscrupulous. My actions could—and probably would—do harm to David. My anger was because of his father, and his summary decision to fire me. My revenge, however, would affect everyone else in the company. My mother was already having troubles with the other workers because of me, but did their actions justify what I was going to do?

It was my emotional reaction to yesterday, coupled with a noted lack of sleep, that had brought me to this point, but now that I was here, I was losing my resolve.

I hadn’t even thought about how my mother would react when she found out what I did. How would I explain it to her? How would I explain it to Stacy?

I still faced a desperate situation. I wasn’t about to turn myself in to my parole officer; that much was certain. But if I didn’t go through with this plan to steal the information, my only other choice was to run, but that would leave the people I cared about in my wake to clean up the mess.

No matter what I did, people were going to get hurt.

When it came down to it, I knew I couldn’t go through with the theft. I wasn’t a criminal. I was just an unlucky loser.

I didn’t turn around and leave, however. I stood rooted to the spot. I still had a problem. I wouldn’t go back to jail, and I couldn’t run and abandon my mother or my new relationship with Stacy. I had too much to lose.

There was one possibility. If I could speak with David Matheson, tell him the accident wasn’t my fault, maybe he would extend me the benefit of the doubt; if not for me, then for my mother. Yesterday morning I saw that, though he and his father might not see eye to eye, he didn’t have any reservations standing up to him.

It was a long shot, but I needed to take it.

I remembered Chuck. He wouldn’t sit outside in the car for long without getting anxious, and Jorge would get suspicious if we didn’t return to the gate before everyone else started to arrive for work. If I left now, though, I knew I would never be able to get back into the building.

I pulled out the cell phone and hit the speed dial for Chuck’s number.

It rang once, and Chuck came on. “You inside?”

“No,” I said. “Not yet. I’m on the second floor, down the hall from his office.”

“What’s the hold up?”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

I tried to keep my voice as even as possible. “I want you to head back to the gate. Tell Jorge I can’t get into my locker, and I’m going to wait for Carl, my supervisor, to show up. Then you leave.”

“I knew it!” Chuck said, his voice cracking. “You’re chickening out.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just can’t—” The phone went dead when Chuck hung up.

I sighed and slipped the phone back in my pocket. Chuck wouldn’t say anything to Stacy; she didn’t know about what he did for a living, and I got the sense that he didn’t want her to know.

Somehow, I would make things right with him later … if I managed to keep myself out of jail.

David Matheson usually didn’t show up for work until eight o’clock or so. I had an hour and a half to kill, and I couldn’t just stand in the middle of the stairs. My best bet was to wait in his office.

I swiped the card and stepped onto the second floor, then walked to the end of the hall, all the while feeling the depressing weight of my situation pressing down on me. I didn’t want to get back to that place in my life where I felt sorry for myself. I
had
to take ownership of my decisions and my life, and make better choices.

At the vice-president’s office door, I pulled my mother’s key card out again and swiped it in the lock. A click sounded as the door unlocked, and I turned the knob.

The moment I stepped inside, I knew something was terribly wrong:

David Matheson sat behind his desk, staring directly at me.

Chapter Nine

My first impression
was that he was expecting me. Then his eyes widened in surprise when he recognized who I was. He was expecting someone, but not me.

“Richard?” It was more a demand than a question.

It was then that I realized that I was holding my breath. I had to force myself to inhale and exhale.

“Uh,” I said, my mind racing to make up an excuse why I had broken into his office.

“What’s he doing here?” asked another voice. I jerked my head to the right and saw Terence Matheson and Al.

David’s father was sitting in an overstuffed leather chair, his driver standing behind him dutifully. Both men had dark frowns.

“Is this why you had me come in so early this morning?” Terence asked his son. “I told you, I fired him for good reason, and I stand by that. I won’t have my decisions second-guessed. I seriously think you have your priorities mixed up, David.”

He stood and adjusted his suit jacket; a clear sign that he had made his point and the meeting was concluded.

“I was waiting for someone,” David said, his eyes scouring me for an answer to an unspoken question. “But not you. What are you doing here, Richard?”