Page 97 of Wild Fever
Once the clubs were out, I tipped the bag over and shook out a USB drive that fell to the ground. I snatched it up and brandished it. “This.”
“What is that?”
I slipped it into my pocket. “We’re about to find out.”
We put the clubs back in the bag, then returned it to the trunk. The valet hopped into the car and drove it back into the garage.
“You have a laptop handy?” I asked.
Vanessa nodded.
We marched into the lobby and hurried to the elevators. I pressed the call button, and we stepped aboard a moment later.
“STT-X security officers visited Preston Stewart’s home the day of his death. I think they were looking for this,” I said, displaying the USB drive. “I think he was about to blow the whistle on something.”
“Why is it in my father’s golf bag?”
“I think Preston was being followed, and he needed to get rid of it.”
“And you think STT-X had my father killed because of what’s on that drive.”
I nodded. “Cleaning up loose ends.”
Vanessa’s jaw tightened, and rage flushed her cheeks.
The doors slid open, and we hurried down the hallway to her unit. Once inside, she grabbed her laptop, cleared the security screen, then handed it to me. I inserted the USB drive and opened it.
Thankfully, the data wasn’t encrypted.
I started sifting through the files.
It was a goldmine of damning evidence—internal memos, emails, spreadsheets, financial statements, bank statements, wire transfers, etc. It took a while to sift through everything, but a clear picture emerged. STT-X was overcharging the government for fighter jets and missile defense systems—to the tune of a billion dollars. This was more than just padding costs. They were bribing foreign officials to purchase weapons and funneling illegal payments to politicians on the appropriations committee. If they got caught, penalties and fines would be exorbitant. Preston Stewart wasn’t selling secrets to Erica Lang. She was hired to find out how much he knew, and what he planned to do with the information.
“So, my father was killed for nothing,” Vanessa said, her eyes misting.
“It looks that way,” I said. “He never even knew he had the data. I’m sorry.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Turn this over to the DOJ. It’s a federal matter.”
“My father’s murder is still your jurisdiction, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “I will pursue that to a conclusion, rest assured.”
I copied the contents of the drive to her computer so there would be a backup somewhere, then ejected the USB drive.
I told her I’d be in touch, then left the unit and hustled down to the lobby. I hopped on my bike and headed back toward Diver Down.
I hadn’t been on the road long when another sportbike pulled up behind me. I craned my neck over my shoulder to get a better look at the matte black bike. Dressed in black leather and a black helmet, the rider’s identity was obscured. I had a bad feeling about this, even though he offered a friendly wave.
I kept going and increased my speed.
The biker rode my tail.
I throttled up again just as he pulled a gun from his jacket.
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