Page 87 of Wild Fever
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”
"Someone piggybacked on his network,” I said. “They wanted to set him up. Make it look like he hacked the server. Certainly threw us off the trail for long enough."
"I'm sure you have a few ideas about who might be behind that.”
"I do." I thanked him for the information and ended the call.
All the pieces were starting to come together. I figured somebody pulled up to the curb in front of Elias's mansion, hacked into his network, then hacked the cryogenics lab—just like when Piper and I connected to the Wi-Fi at the coffee shop to hack Zonatrex.
Somebody wanted us to trace it back to Elias.
They made it just difficult enough, but not impossible. Unfortunately for them, they overlooked the discrepancies in the MAC addresses. Maybe they thought we were stupid.
I found JD and filled him in. We headed back to Stingray Bay. Jack parked at the curb, and we hopped out and hustled up the walkway. I banged on the door to Elias’s mansion.
His wife moved down the foyer a moment later and pulled open the door. Her angry eyes flicked between the two of us. "What do you want?”
"I think I might be able to prove your husband is not guilty of murder," I said.
She lifted a surprised brow.
I didn't think we’d have a problem obtaining a new warrant, but that wouldn’t be necessary after I explained the situation to Mrs. Thorne. It didn't take too much convincing to get her to agreeto export the footage from the video doorbell the night of the murder.
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The night in question, a black sedan with tinted windows pulled to the curb in front of Elias’s house. The familiar blue glow of a computer screen lit up the passenger. The vehicle stayed in front of the house for the next few minutes. Without movement, the clip ended, but picked up again when the vehicle left. In total, it was there for about 20 minutes, according to the timestamp. Enough time to accomplish the dirty deed.
When it pulled away, the camera captured the license plate. At night, the footage was blocky and grainy. But with some enhancements, we might be able to identify the vehicle. I sent the clip to Isabella. She had better resources than the department, and she’d do it faster.
In 15 minutes, I had an answer.
The sedan was registered to a 75-year-old woman named Rose Bennett who lived on the island. It had been reported stolen. I didn’t think Rose was behind the hack. She didn’t fit the profile,but JD and I set out to find her. She lived in a cute little coral-colored cottage on Fern Glen Street.
The black sedan was parked at the curb when we arrived. JD pulled behind it.
We hopped out, pushed through the gate at the white picket fence, and followed the walkway between two large palms to the porch.
I rang the doorbell—no video.
Rose came to the door a moment later and called through it. "Who is it?"
I flashed my badge to the privacy glass and said, "Deputies Wild and Donovan with Coconut County."
Rose unlatched the deadbolt and pulled open the door. "Did you find the son-of-a-bitch who stole my car?"
Rose didn't mince words. She had short, dyed auburn hair, brown eyes, and didn't look anywhere near 75.
I couldn't help but chuckle. "No. But it seems you got your car back," I said, motioning to the vehicle behind me.
"It’s the damnedest thing. I parked it on the street. When I went out the next morning, I could have sworn the car had moved. I always park close to the curb. I don't want to get a ticket.” She muttered aside in an annoyed voice, “Every now and then, parking enforcement comes through trying to do a revenue grab. I think it's ridiculous. They gave me a ticket last year for parking more than a foot away from the curb!” Rose was still angry and offended. “I went out there and measured it myself. It was 12.5 inches. I think there ought to be a little leeway, don't you?”
"I agree.”
"Anyway, I got into the car, and the seat was all the way back. Look at me. I'm 5’2”. Do I look like I need the seat all the way back?”
"No.”
“The radio was tuned to a different station. And that god-awful cologne.” Her face twisted with disgust, and she groaned. “Cheap.”
