“You’re not getting into that hospital room armed,” he said.
“The last time I saw Mr. Sherwood, I was armed, and I put myself between him and the creature that was trying to eat him.”
“We’re aware of your role, Ms. Baylor. House Sherwood is grateful for your assistance.”
It was time to pull out the big guns. “Before I arrived to the incident that resulted in this situation, my associate called to House Sherwood and informed your head of security that we believed Rynda Sherwood was in danger. We were told to mind our own business.”
The guard’s ice-cold composure cracked a little. “That person is no longer employed by House Sherwood.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. It’s very disheartening when you try to offer important information only to be brushed off. Please ask Edward if he would see us anyway. It’s important and urgent.”
The man stared at me. A switch clicked in his head. That’s right, the last time your people blew me off, your Prime was hurt and your chief of security was fired.
“Please wait here.” He turned around and walked down the hallway, leaving us in the waiting room under the watchful eyes of a man and a woman in House Sherwood uniforms.
Leon winked at them. They remained stoic.
My phone chimed. Cornelius. I answered the call. “Yes?”
“We’ve gone through Brian’s receipts,” Cornelius said. “On December 21st, he stopped at Millennium Coffee House. Brian doesn’t drink coffee or tea. Millennium Coffee House is located near the intersection of Gulf and the 610. He drove fifteen miles. There are sixteen coffee shops that are closer to BioCore.”
It made no sense for him to drive fifteen miles in Houston traffic for a coffee he doesn’t drink.
“Was he alone?”
“No. The barista remembered him because he ordered a fruit tea and then made a fuss because she wrote Bryan with a Y instead of Brian with an I on his cup. He met a man there. They sat outside and spoke for about forty-five minutes. She could see through the window. We showed her some pictures, and she picked Sturm out.”
And the pieces had fallen into place. “Thank you.”
“Does that help?”
“It’s exactly what we needed.”
“Fantastic. Here is Bernard.”
“Nevada?” my cousin said into the phone.
“Yes?”
“Bug and I tracked Brian’s logins. Someone used his credentials to log into his home network on December 21st. According to their emails and Rynda’s Facebook, they spent the evening with her mother-in-law and Edward.”
“Is there any way to trace what was accessed? Did they copy anything?”
“No. To a computer system, opening a file and copying it is pretty much the same thing. It doesn’t record the difference. All I can tell you is someone who wasn’t Brian Sherwood had complete access to his network.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re going home.”
“Be careful.”
“We will.”
I hung up.
The head of security emerged from the hallway. “He’ll see you now.”
Edward lay in a hospital bed, his skin only a couple of shades darker than the stark white of the sheets. Sunlight streamed through the open drapes, falling on a beautiful bonsai tree on the table next to him. A compact woman, her hair pulled back into a severe ponytail, waited discreetly in the corner, watching me and Leon like a hawk. She carried a Beretta. Leon parked himself next to her, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. She gave him a once-over and dismissed him.
The head of security stood guard by the door and showed no signs of moving.
I pulled up a chair. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a man who dodged a bullet,” he said quietly. He touched the controls on the armrest of the bed, and it slowly moved to bring him into a semi-sitting position. “Have you found Brian?”
“No.”
“How’s Rynda?”
“She’s holding up.”
“She came to see me last night.” He reached out and touched the leaves of the bonsai.
“Did she bring the tree?”
“Yes. Satsuki Azalea, seventy-two years old. Flowers from May to June. The blossoms are beautiful pink and white. They have a really diverse range of flowering patterns, even on the same tree. I’ve wanted one for a while, but I’ve been so busy lately. She remembered.” He smiled, then caught himself. “Thank you for saving her and the children. And me. Us.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Anyone in my place would’ve done the same.”
“I doubt it.”
There was no easy way to say it. “How much do you trust your security people?”
I had to give it to him; even on his sickbed Edward managed a glare. “I trust them.”
“What I’m about to say can’t go past this room.”
“Say whatever it is.”
I kept my voice low. “Alexander Sturm is involved in the kidnapping of your brother.”
A heavy silence descended. Every time Sturm’s name was mentioned, people paused.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. We can’t prove it yet, but we’re certain.”
“But why?”
“Alexander Sturm and Vincent Harcourt are part of a conspiracy that involved Olivia Charles. They belong to an organization of Primes that’s trying to destabilize Houston so they can put their leader in power. They call him Caesar. Adam Pierce was also part of this conspiracy.”
Edward gaped at me.
“Sturm is under the impression that Olivia hid something in Brian and Rynda’s house. Something vital. He wants it back, but he refuses to state clearly what he’s looking for. He wasn’t happy with our failure to find the ransom, so he sent a severed human ear to Rynda to try to convince us to expedite our efforts.”
“Dear God.” Edward tried to rise.
“Please don’t get up,” the head of security said. “Please, sir. We need you to get well.”
Edward lowered himself back onto the bed.
“On December 21st, your brother visited Millennium Coffee House about fifteen miles from BioCore. He met Sturm there.”
I let it sink in.
Edward frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. We found an eyewitness who picked Sturm out of a photo lineup.”
“The last time I saw Mr. Sherwood, I was armed, and I put myself between him and the creature that was trying to eat him.”
“We’re aware of your role, Ms. Baylor. House Sherwood is grateful for your assistance.”
It was time to pull out the big guns. “Before I arrived to the incident that resulted in this situation, my associate called to House Sherwood and informed your head of security that we believed Rynda Sherwood was in danger. We were told to mind our own business.”
The guard’s ice-cold composure cracked a little. “That person is no longer employed by House Sherwood.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. It’s very disheartening when you try to offer important information only to be brushed off. Please ask Edward if he would see us anyway. It’s important and urgent.”
The man stared at me. A switch clicked in his head. That’s right, the last time your people blew me off, your Prime was hurt and your chief of security was fired.
“Please wait here.” He turned around and walked down the hallway, leaving us in the waiting room under the watchful eyes of a man and a woman in House Sherwood uniforms.
Leon winked at them. They remained stoic.
My phone chimed. Cornelius. I answered the call. “Yes?”
“We’ve gone through Brian’s receipts,” Cornelius said. “On December 21st, he stopped at Millennium Coffee House. Brian doesn’t drink coffee or tea. Millennium Coffee House is located near the intersection of Gulf and the 610. He drove fifteen miles. There are sixteen coffee shops that are closer to BioCore.”
It made no sense for him to drive fifteen miles in Houston traffic for a coffee he doesn’t drink.
“Was he alone?”
“No. The barista remembered him because he ordered a fruit tea and then made a fuss because she wrote Bryan with a Y instead of Brian with an I on his cup. He met a man there. They sat outside and spoke for about forty-five minutes. She could see through the window. We showed her some pictures, and she picked Sturm out.”
And the pieces had fallen into place. “Thank you.”
“Does that help?”
“It’s exactly what we needed.”
“Fantastic. Here is Bernard.”
“Nevada?” my cousin said into the phone.
“Yes?”
“Bug and I tracked Brian’s logins. Someone used his credentials to log into his home network on December 21st. According to their emails and Rynda’s Facebook, they spent the evening with her mother-in-law and Edward.”
“Is there any way to trace what was accessed? Did they copy anything?”
“No. To a computer system, opening a file and copying it is pretty much the same thing. It doesn’t record the difference. All I can tell you is someone who wasn’t Brian Sherwood had complete access to his network.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re going home.”
“Be careful.”
“We will.”
I hung up.
The head of security emerged from the hallway. “He’ll see you now.”
Edward lay in a hospital bed, his skin only a couple of shades darker than the stark white of the sheets. Sunlight streamed through the open drapes, falling on a beautiful bonsai tree on the table next to him. A compact woman, her hair pulled back into a severe ponytail, waited discreetly in the corner, watching me and Leon like a hawk. She carried a Beretta. Leon parked himself next to her, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. She gave him a once-over and dismissed him.
The head of security stood guard by the door and showed no signs of moving.
I pulled up a chair. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a man who dodged a bullet,” he said quietly. He touched the controls on the armrest of the bed, and it slowly moved to bring him into a semi-sitting position. “Have you found Brian?”
“No.”
“How’s Rynda?”
“She’s holding up.”
“She came to see me last night.” He reached out and touched the leaves of the bonsai.
“Did she bring the tree?”
“Yes. Satsuki Azalea, seventy-two years old. Flowers from May to June. The blossoms are beautiful pink and white. They have a really diverse range of flowering patterns, even on the same tree. I’ve wanted one for a while, but I’ve been so busy lately. She remembered.” He smiled, then caught himself. “Thank you for saving her and the children. And me. Us.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Anyone in my place would’ve done the same.”
“I doubt it.”
There was no easy way to say it. “How much do you trust your security people?”
I had to give it to him; even on his sickbed Edward managed a glare. “I trust them.”
“What I’m about to say can’t go past this room.”
“Say whatever it is.”
I kept my voice low. “Alexander Sturm is involved in the kidnapping of your brother.”
A heavy silence descended. Every time Sturm’s name was mentioned, people paused.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. We can’t prove it yet, but we’re certain.”
“But why?”
“Alexander Sturm and Vincent Harcourt are part of a conspiracy that involved Olivia Charles. They belong to an organization of Primes that’s trying to destabilize Houston so they can put their leader in power. They call him Caesar. Adam Pierce was also part of this conspiracy.”
Edward gaped at me.
“Sturm is under the impression that Olivia hid something in Brian and Rynda’s house. Something vital. He wants it back, but he refuses to state clearly what he’s looking for. He wasn’t happy with our failure to find the ransom, so he sent a severed human ear to Rynda to try to convince us to expedite our efforts.”
“Dear God.” Edward tried to rise.
“Please don’t get up,” the head of security said. “Please, sir. We need you to get well.”
Edward lowered himself back onto the bed.
“On December 21st, your brother visited Millennium Coffee House about fifteen miles from BioCore. He met Sturm there.”
I let it sink in.
Edward frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. We found an eyewitness who picked Sturm out of a photo lineup.”
