The Last Hedge (27 page)

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Authors: Carey Green

BOOK: The Last Hedge
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“I’ll help you with the sofa,” she said. She followed him into the living room. The couch itself was too small to sleep on, but it folded out into a larger bed. Vanessa helped him move the pillows, and work the swing-out mechanism. When they had unfolded the bed, Dylan placed the pillows and blankets that she had given him on top of the bed.

“Looks comfortable,” Dylan said, as he sat down on it. The bed then gave way in a heaving of metal, and Dylan found himself seated on the floor. The frame had collapsed sending Dylan sprawling.

“Oops,” Vanessa said. “Time for a new frame.”

“I apologize.”

“For what? You didn’t do anything. The sofa’s a piece of crap. I needed a new one anyway.”

“I’ll take care of it for you. Besides, I can sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t do that. I have a king-size bed. You take one side. I’ll take the other.”

Dylan raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.

He helped Vanessa fold her couch back into place and gathered the crumpled bedding. He followed her into her bedroom and placed the blanket and pillow onto a chair. They both sat down on the bed at the same time, and Vanessa turned off the lights.

After several minutes of silence, Vanessa rolled over in his direction.

“You asleep?” she asked.

“Not yet. I guess I’m too wired to sleep. After everything that’s happened.”

“I can understand that.”

“And I think of everything that has happened, this day, in my life, my friend Binky, it makes no sense. None at all.”

Dylan could see Vanessa’s face, smiling at him in the moonlight. She drew herself closer to him. He took her face in his hands and they kissed. He could feel her hard, taut body moving closer to him, and he did not resist. Soon, they were in a passionate embrace that neither of them wanted to end.

In seconds their clothes were off. Dylan pulled Vanessa closer to him. Her breasts were larger than he imagined, as they pressed against his chest. With his index finger he began to play with her nipples. Her mouth opened voraciously as they began to kiss.

Soon, she was in his arms. With one hand, he began to roll her hair into a ball; the other hand slid down to the moistness between her legs. Vanessa’s breath became heavy and deep. Soon, she was on top of him, undulating her hips while Dylan held her supple breasts in his hands. Occasionally, they would stop to kiss, then resume again with a passion that surprised them both. Vanessa eventually collapsed on top of him, burying her head in his shoulder in place of a scream. Afterwards, she curled into his arms.

“Wow,” Vanessa said. “Where did that come from?”

“That’s a good question,” Dylan said. “I did not expect this.”

“I wanted to attack you the first minute you walked into the office,” she said.

“I thought you were cute too.”

“Ouch!” Vanessa screamed.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know, but I hope the cat doesn’t have the condom.”

Dylan laughed. “I never thought I’d get to have sex with an FBI agent.”

“With or without a gun to your head?”

“Either works. I thought banker sex would be boring. Like you’d keep your suit on or something. I don’t wear suits.”

“The way you fuck, you don’t need one.”

Their lovemaking had left him spent and tired, like a vessel that needed to be refueled. He was sound asleep when he felt a nudge at his chest. Vanessa was already sitting upright on the bed when he looked at the clock. It was 3:15.

“You awake?” Dylan asked.

“Barely.”

“What is it?” he asked, groggy with sleep.

“I think someone is out there.”

“Where?”

“On my terrace.”

“What?”

“Little Kitty ran towards the window. Then I heard a noise.” The cat was frozen with its nose glued to the side of the glass door. The left side of Vanessa’s bed was directly parallel to a large outdoor area on the top of the building. The terrace door started about two feet past the length of her bed and continued for about eight feet to the adjacent bedroom wall.

“Are you sure?”

“Shh …”

Dylan listened. He heard a slight rustling sound that was coming from outside.

“What do you think it is?”

“Shh…Did you use your cell phone to call me?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Get down on the floor.”

“What?”

“I said, get down.”

Vanessa literally pushed him off the bed, while she scrambled to the ground on her side of the bed. She reached into her nightstand to retrieve her .38 revolver. She checked it. A round was loaded. As she waited on the floor with her gun cocked, a shadow began to form near her terrace door.

His adrenaline was racing now. She had not fired the gun in nearly three years, though her scores on the gun range had improved dramatically.
She was ready.
She could hear Dylan breathing on the other side of the bed.

“Stay down!” she whispered.

Vanessa saw the shadow get closer to the window. She made a hissing sound towards the cat. Vanessa could see the cat’s green eyes silhouetted in the moonlight by the terrace door. Vanessa made another slight hissing sound, and the cat came towards her. Once the cat was within reach, Vanessa grabbed the animal, and slid her under the bed towards Dylan. The cat reacted with an angry snarl.

“Rarrghhh!”

“Shhh1”, Vanessa whispered towered Dylan, who had assumed control of the cat. Vanessa pointed the gun

at the full-size dark shadow who was immediately outside the door. She put her finger on the trigger and began to shout.

“Who is out there!”

The shadow froze, suspended in the night’s light.
A second’s pause.
Vanessa steadied her gun as she began to speak.

“Freeze now, or I’ll shoot!”

The terrace door opened suddenly and Vanessa fired several rounds. The figure at the door dropped to his knees and rolled to his left. Someone shot several rounds back into the apartment, forcing Vanessa to scramble from her spot on the floor, directly parallel to the door. Dylan stayed beneath the bed, his heart pounding through his shirt. From under the bed, he could see Vanessa standing against a wall, her gun still peeled at the terrace door. No one entered. After what seemed like a lifetime, she began to move forward towards the terrace door. When she got there, she fell to one knee and aimed the gun out the glass door that now had a gaping hole in it. She looked through the hole in the glass that was left and breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever who had been out there, was now long gone.

Chapter 40

 

Dylan’s heart was still racing as he got up from under the bed and joined Vanessa on her terrace. She had called Conroy, but he had not picked up. Vanessa was examining her terrace for clues or information. Dylan stood besides her as she examined the broken glass.

“How did they know I was here?”

“When you called me, did you use your cell phone?”

“Why?”

“That could be how.”

“You can tap a cell phone?”

“Not only that. They can track down your location at any given time. The right people know how to do it.”

“So what now?”

“I don’t know. There was information encoded on the disk of the iPod; some type of hash table that contained encryption keys. Do you know what it was for?”

“Josh asked me about this. Whatever it was, Binky figured it out. Now all I have to do is do the same thing.”

“How?”

“There may be a way. Do you have a car?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s parked in an outdoor garage near the West Side Highway.”

“May I borrow it?”

“Where are you going?”

“Upstate, I think.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Vanessa, I don’t want you to risk your career because of me.”

“It’s too late now, ” she said. “I’m already in.” They kissed.

“I’m glad,” Dylan said. “Really glad.”

Chapter 41

 

They picked up Vanessa’s Civic from the outdoor garage near the West Side Highway and began the trip upstate. Afraid to use their phones, they stopped at a deli with an Internet kiosk, and downloaded a map of New York State with directions on how to get to Troy. Dylan hoped to complete the trip in less than three hours.

“What makes you think there is something upstate?”

“Where else should we go? Adam said Luke found something. The last people who saw him alive were his parents. Maybe he told them something. Who knows?” Silently, Vanessa watched the road and passing cars.

Despite being bone tired, the feel of being behind a wheel exhilarated Dylan. He drove as the sun rose in the east. They stopped at a rest area around six o’clock in the morning, and had a cup of coffee. With a little luck, they would arrive in Troy at around 8 a.m.

They arrived in the small Hamlet of Troy without a problem. The downloaded directions had been flawless, and Dylan found Luke’s parents’ house without a hitch. The home was a pretty cape at the end of a small
cul-de-sac
. Dylan parked the car, and they approached the door. He knocked. An older gentleman opened the door.

“Hello,” Dylan said. “My name is Dylan Cash. I am … I was a friend of Luke’s. This is my friend, Vanessa.” Vanessa extended her hand. She also reached into her purse and retrieved her badge.

“I’m also an FBI agent.”

The man looked at them with a look that was frozen between uncertainty and sadness. He then extended his hand towards Dylan. “My name is Thomas. Any friend of Luke’s is a friend of ours,” he said, shaking Vanessa’s hand..” Come on in.” They followed him into the house and closed the door.

The house was small and pretty, and Thomas guided them into the living room. A woman was seated on the couch. She smiled as they took a seat on the couch besides her. Vanessa said “hello”, but the woman did not respond, except for a nod.

“I don’t know if Luke told you, but his mother had a stroke.”

“No, I am sorry. I didn’t know,” Dylan said.

“Oh, don’t apologize. Nobody’s fault, I suppose. She’s doing better. Besides, it could be worse: At least she’s still with us.”

“Yes. That’s true.” Both men shared an awkward silence. Vanessa smiled. Thomas rubbed his hands for a moment. He leaned towards Dylan. Then, he began to speak.

“Did you know Luke well? We don’t really know too many of his city friends.”

“To be honest with you, Thomas, I did not know Luke at all.”

“Oh?” Thomas said. Dylan could tell that he was suddenly confused, like a man wandering alone on a deserted street.

“I worked for the company that Luke worked for, but I got there after his accident.”

“So, you didn’t even know him?”

“No, I didn’t. This is hard for me to explain, but I think that Luke found out something about the owner of his company. I think they tried to kill me, because I found out the same things. Thomas, I think that Luke was murdered.”

“Why would you say that?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. You see, I discovered some things and went to the FBI. Someone is trying to kill me, and my friend is missing. Something makes me feel there is some connection with my situation and what happened to Luke.”

“Do the police know?”

“As far as I know, they figured Luke was dead because of an accident.”

Thomas leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment before he spoke.

“It always struck me as kind of strange, the way he died on that bike. He had been riding ever since he was twelve years old. It made me wonder, but I kind of figured no one would listen to an old guy like me.”

“Thomas, I was wondering if I could maybe look through some of Luke’s stuff. Do you know where it ended up?”

The man looked down at his hands, then at Dylan. “Follow me.” Dylan and Vanessa followed Thomas as he walked towards a staircase.

Soon, they were in the attic. Boxes were scattered all around.

“This is where we put all of his stuff.”

“All of it?”

“We think it is, but we wouldn’t know. We’d never seen his place in Manhattan. We’re not really city folks, you know what I mean? But this is what we packed out of his apartment. Everything.”

“Thomas, what I want to know is …. Did Luke have some type of computer?”

“Yes, he did. But the computer wasn’t usually in the apartment. He left it here the weekend he died.”

“You still have it?”

“Of course we do. It’s over here.” Dylan followed Thomas over to a corner where a large trunk was. He opened the chest and removed the laptop computer.

“No use for me to have it. There’s a place over there to plug it in.”

Dylan took the laptop to a small desk near a corner of the attic. He and Vanessa found chairs and sat. Thomas watched them with an alien and skeptical detachment. They waited for the computer to start up, and then Dylan began to type on the keyboard.

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know,” Dylan said. “Let’s see what Luke was working on last.”

Dylan used the finder program on the Macintosh to sort which programs had been modified last. When the hourglass was finished, the files were sorted by date and time.

Dylan double-clicked on the folder marked trades and found a mix of spreadsheets and documents. Some of the documents were cash transfer balances; other spreadsheets had names and numbers. He found a group of files dated “_01” and “_02”, much like the files he had discovered in his apartment. Dylan opened one of the files. Unlike the ones that he had seen earlier, they were not encrypted. detailing both the names and amounts. Dylan began to scroll through the list, looking for a familiar name.

None of the information made sense. Without an explanation, it was as cryptic as ever. Dylan went back to the finder and looked at the list of items. Luke had been working on a Word document the day he had died. Dylan loaded the document and began to read it. Vanessa peered over his shoulder and read along.

Mr. Highland:

I work for Ray Corbin in the hedge fund of Corbin and Corbin. I have grave concerns about one of our clients, a gentleman by the name of Yosef Fazziz. Ray Corbin referred me to you as someone I could trust.

Time is of the essence. I will be calling you soon in the hopes of speaking to you at your earliest convenience.

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