His Garden of Bones (Skye Cree Book 4) (26 page)

T
he moment Josh walked into Dandelion Eatery he could tell John Stockman was in the middle of preparing for a hectic Friday night dinner crowd. But getting the brushoff from the busy manager wasn’t in the cards. Not tonight anyway.

After several obvious dodges to avoid him, Josh had to corner Stockman behind the serving counter to get his attention.

“I need that list we talked about,” Josh demanded.

“Can’t you see I’m swamped here? It’s the dinner rush for chrissakes. My line chef got here twenty minutes late and we’re already behind.”

“That’s too bad. You’ve had time enough to come up with those names we need. Surely you could take thirty minutes and tell me who was on your guest list, maybe who’s rented the place during the last year.” Getting a blank stare from Stockman, Josh added, “Do I need to remind you the man who broke into your home is violent and dangerous? If we hadn’t thwarted his efforts who knows what might’ve happened to the baby and mother.”

“Okay, fine. I did work up a first attempt. It isn’t complete but…”

“A first draft is a start. I need it now.”

Stockman began to head to the rear of the eatery. “It’s in the office. Something told me you’d be back.”

Josh followed him to a small room off the hallway near the restrooms. He picked up on an underlying current. “What is it that you’re holding back?”

“I don’t want to get sued or anything.”

“What? Why?” Josh held up both hands. “Look, I’m not expecting you to break a confidence but something tells me you hold the key to why that guy was there that night.”

Stockman let out a deep sigh, ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. I get it. There’s only so much guilt you can lay on me.” He opened a desk drawer, brought out a piece of paper with the computer-generated index of names. “All right, this is what I came up with. As I began compiling the names my memory snapped back to one particular incident that happened last spring. That weekend I’d invited a bunch of people on the boat from the restaurant biz, people I come in contact with on a weekly basis. Anyone who had anything to do with the restaurant got an invite.”

“You mean, like your vendors, your suppliers, food and liquor distributors?”

“Exactly. I decided on having this big buffet outside on the deck under the stars to take advantage of the beautiful evening. I grilled salmon and tilapia, served fresh asparagus tips, prepared all kinds of salads, and fixed a double chocolate mousse for dessert. It was going pretty well, too. Everyone seemed to be having a great time.”

“But…”

“That’s when one of my beer distributors tapped me on the shoulder and told me about Theron King. Theron was making everyone around him feel uncomfortable.”

“Who’s Theron King?”

“King’s an organic grower. He’s the owner of Tiffany Produce.”

“Catchy name.”

Stockman bobbed his head in agreement. “Oh, it is, for a reason. His products were the cream of the crop. Still are for that matter. At one time I was one of his best customers.”

“But not anymore?”

“No, I had to let him go. And it was a shame, too, because Theron supplied the finest bagged lettuce in Washington State. Man, that guy grew the best tasting Bibb, kale, arugula, red endive and baby spinach that I ever served on a plate. In fact, the night of the gathering I’d used Theron’s whole line of produce to make my lemon basil shrimp salad and the spinach and strawberry salad that were the centerpieces on the table.”

“That’s a glowing recommendation for a bunch of greens. So what was this Theron King doing that made the beer distributor so nervous?”

“It was the damnedest thing. King was standing at the rail looking out over the lake, having a conversation with himself. It looked like some sort of meltdown or schizophrenic episode. I once had an uncle who used to act the same way. That’s what freaked me out. I recognized the indicators of a personality disorder. When I started thinking back to other times Theron had behaved in a weird kind of way, I put two and two together. But that night it was such a disturbing scene that I decided then and there to end my business association I’d had with him for good.”

“How’d he take it?”

“There were no repercussions, if that’s what you mean, maybe because I waited a couple of weeks before sending Theron an email laying it all out. But I never heard a word back from him in rebuttal.”

“You didn’t think it strange that he didn’t try to get you to change your mind and get your business back?”

“I was a little afraid of him but there was no retaliation of any kind. That I know of anyway.”

“Hmm, interesting. Which means King might’ve had a reason to get back at you the only way he thought best and that was to drag you into this whole mess now.”

“Yeah, I considered that when I started thinking back to the parties. There are lots of people on this list but Theron King I put at the top.”

Josh took the paper, perused the names. “I noticed that. We’ll keep him at the top until he’s eliminated as a suspect.”

As he headed back to the car, he didn’t wait to do a background check on Theron King. He used his phone to pull up the grower’s Washington State driver’s license. The picture ID showed a man with a thin face, deep-set eyes, and olive-colored skin. Even though King’s records came back clean, Josh got a strong vibe from the photo. The vibe lodged in his gut, mainly because of the blank look that stared back at him from King’s dark sunken eyes.

By the time Josh walked back into the foundation, Skye was still sitting at her laptop—online and chatting her way into gaining the trust of the other users at a website touted as a place to unite buyer and seller.

She looked up and spotted Josh. “I’ve caught the attention of a seller called King Oreias.”

“King? I doubt that’s a coincidence,” Josh announced from the doorway. “Stockman gave me a name. Theron King.”

“You’re kidding? Could it be?” Skye looked back down at the screen. “Damn it. King Oreias went offline.”

“That’s okay. We’ll find him. King owns a produce company and lives up on the hill near Lake Union. I even did a background check on the way over here and got his home address.” Josh went into a replay of everything Stockman had told him. He tapped the screen on his phone. “This is our guy. I’m certain of it.”

Catching the last bit of the conversation, Travis hung up the call he’d been on to a father in Pershing, Oregon. As Josh finished up his narration Travis butted in, “Did I hear you say something about Theron King?”

Skye eyed her father from behind her laptop before getting to her feet. “That’s our suspect’s name and the owner of Tiffany Produce. You know this King guy?” Skye rocked back on her heels. “Of course you do, you own a restaurant
and
a diner. Your paths would’ve crossed many times.”

“I’ve done business with Theron for probably seven years. He’s one of the best local distributors that I’ve ever bought produce from, specializes in growing greenhouse organics, best tasting kale of all the growers around for miles. You can’t beat the man’s prices either, most reasonable in the state. Theron knows what he’s doing. That’s why he provides most of the edible greens to some of Seattle’s finest food establishments. Although he’s sometimes…”

“A strange guy?” Josh finished. “Stockman thought so too.”

Travis rubbed his chin. “Theron’s always been a bit of an odd duck.”

“How so?” Skye prompted.

“I once caught him talking to himself. I’d stopped by his company one day to straighten out a billing problem. His admin sent me back to his office. I walked in, and there he was, sitting at his desk, having a conversation with the air. I stood there at the doorway and watched as he had his hand up in the air like he was stroking an animal. You know, like you might a dog.” Travis gave a demo of what he meant by waving his hand along the air. “I have to tell you that at the time, the entire scene gave me the willies.”

Josh handed Travis his cell phone with the picture of King’s driver’s license he’d pulled. “Look familiar?”

“That’s him. Thin, gangly, about six feet.”

“Any chance you noticed if Theron King exhibited any feminine traits? Did you ever see him in a social setting, similar to the party Stockman described to Josh?”

Travis furrowed his brow in thought. “I never took the guy out to dinner if that’s what you mean. Feminine traits? Like what? That’s a new one. You mean like a cross-dresser, wearing women’s clothing?”

“To tell you the truth, I have no idea,” Skye replied, looking at Emmett for help.

Emmett had parked himself in front of a desktop computer typing up his notes on the Idaho disappearances.

Skye rolled on, “But that would certainly be something a female personality might do, correct? He would dress the part, right? It might explain the woman Ashley saw that night who grabbed her.”

Emmett sat back in his chair, intrigued. “It’s fascinating to think a serial starts out as a man and then fractures into the opposite gender. But it could explain how he manages to gain access to the victims, especially at night. By putting them at ease dressed as a female, he wouldn’t encounter a struggle until it was on his terms.”

“And in the dark, the girls might not be able to distinguish him from the real thing,” Skye noted. “I mean who really pays attention to that kind of detail when you least expect it?”

From across the room Winston had been listening. The hacker walked over to where Travis stood holding Josh’s cell and stared at the official photo ID.

Skye took in the look on Winston’s face. “If you have something to add, now would be an excellent time to do it.”

Winston adjusted his glasses. “Well, I was thinking. According to the description of the delivery van from the night Josh was hit, I’d say this guy’s vehicle is a fairly late model.”

Skye grunted assent. “Yeah, more like a 2014. Why?”

Before going into his monologue Winston drew in a deep breath. “What a lot people don’t understand is that automakers these days build cars with all kinds of wireless technology. Any newer, late model car has several dozen electronic control units on board, efficient little mini computers.”

Skye looked at Josh with a puzzled look hoping she’d get a sign as to where Winston was going with this.

A realization hit Josh. Caught up in Winston’s thought process, Josh slapped him on the back. “That’s brilliant.”

“If it’s so brilliant maybe you two would like to share with the rest of us peons what you’re talking about.”

“Standard operating procedure from car manufacturers uses third parties to create these mini computer chips. What Winston is pointing out is that any chip can be back-doored or hacked, correct?”

A bit nervous, Winston adjusted his horn rims again. “Absolutely. With this guy’s name we could easily take advantage of all the bells and whistles the carmakers have added—keyless entry, remote start up, wireless technology, Internet access, navigational systems, anti-theft devices and cellular-telematics—it’s little wonder the automakers haven’t been able to come up with a way to protect consumers from hackers like me.”

Josh all but wrapped up the guy in his arms. “You’ve given this some thought. All those features are right there, right there for the hacking. A simple computer chip away from cracking into the system.”

Skye stared at Winston. “Are you saying there’s a real possibility you could ‘interfere’ with one of these ‘features’ to the point of hacking into a Theron King’s…”

Winston sent her a wide grin and didn’t let her finish. “Late model vehicle? You bet. Stealing personal data would be a snap. Better than that though, to suit our purposes, I could hack into the controls and cause the vehicle to do any number of things the driver didn’t want it to do.”

Riveted at the idea of that, Skye asked, “Like what?”

“Like accelerate, or stop or turn when the driver least expects it. I could even cause the headlights to blink off and on in a crazy, Stephen King
Christine
, devil car, kind of way. I could modify the speed, or change the gas-gauge readings to make it look like the driver needs to pull over for gas because he believes he’s run out of fuel.”

Skye’s mouth dropped open. “You could do all that? I mean, you could make his vehicle come to a dead stop at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere? You guys better not be punking me.”

“It’s a fact,” Josh stated. “And another tool we use to catch this guy because anything in the control panel is fair game.”

Winston agreed. “As long as I know the vehicle type and manufacturer, if the feature’s main function is to act like a mini computer, I hack the chip. That includes almost any of the security firewalls, or I should say the lack of firewalls. If you think this Theron King is our guy, then someone should do a vehicle search to see if he owns a van like the one that hit you.”

“Do it,” Josh ordered. “I have his address from the motor vehicle report. But I suspect he has an alternate property somewhere he takes his victims. He wouldn’t want the neighbors to see him bringing in girls he’s kidnapped.”

While one programmer went to work, Josh whirled on the other. To Reggie, he suggested, “Skye started an online chat. See if you can keep the dialogue going. Run through the website’s stats scouring their database for any IP addresses that link back to Theron King. Look for any beyond his primary residence, look for any other property he owns. Think outside the box. I want any property connected to his business.”