Stolen. Part 23

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Stolen.



Stolen. Part 23




"Between Sean and Noah, I think I have the big picture. I want to help. Tell me what you need me to do."

"I pulled in Suzanne Madeaux to partner with Noah. You're still at the Academy."

That didn't come out right, Lucy realized. She backtracked a bit. "I already got permission from my cla.s.s supervisor for time off. I can't concentrate knowing that Sean is in danger. And if I can help-"

"How?"

"Anything. Background. Research. Sean said Agent Brighton lied in her statement and-"

"Hold it. That shooting is under investigation. You can't go anywhere near it, considering your relationship with Sean."

"You're right. I'm sorry. But background checks, reverifying information, tracking e-mails, phone records, grunt work. I need to do something." Rick stared at her for a minute. She sat straight, prayed she didn't look as desperate as she sounded. "I understand I should be at the Academy right now, that if I take time off I could jeopardize my slot. I'm willing to take the risk."

"We just identified a new player in the mix, and we don't know where he fits in. He's a financial advisor who worked for a company that was under investigation for mortgage fraud when the owner committed suicide. Now he's a private consultant. No red flags, not a lot in his background. My a.s.sistant is verifying his information; you can help her. Your psychology background will be an a.s.set."

"I'll get on it." She stood, then turned to face him. "I need to ask you something."

"I'll answer if I can."

"When you and Noah asked Sean to go undercover, he admitted he'd committed a felony. Is he taking this risk so he doesn't go to prison?"

"Sit down."

She sat, clasping her fingers to resist fidgeting.

"This is between us, Lucy."

She nodded.

"Sean's crime could have landed him ten to twenty years in prison. He would have opted for a jury trial, I'm sure, and he may have gotten off because his crime is one of those gray areas."

"Because he hacked into the bank and returned the funds to the retired investors the Martin Holdings company stole from."

Rick almost smiled. "Yes."

"If Sean didn't tell you what he'd done, you would never have known."

"Someone knew."

"Jonathan Paxton."

"Yes."

"And that's why Sean's doing this." Sean was the most loyal person Lucy had ever met; it had to be killing him to investigate his friends. "So Sean played Robin Hood nearly ten years ago, and no one ever pursued him? The FBI didn't suspect anything?"

"No crime was reported, and if it had been, there wasn't any evidence."

"What about the other people in the company?"

"Sean doesn't think that anyone with Martin Holdings knew he did it, and suspected that Robert Martin was the sole person responsible. I looked into the company and they disbanded days after Sean dealt with them."

"And the princ.i.p.als?"

"That's tricky-Sean didn't know who they were; there were no names attached, and the Martin Holdings company was held by another company, and so on. I don't think he cared to follow the path-the answers would have been there-but now, they're gone. I've had some of my best people looking at it for the last two months, since Sean told me about it, but it's nearly ten years old and data is stored differently now."

"But someone knew, and told the senator."

"We don't know how the senator found out. But Paxton blackmailed Sean." He paused, then said, "If Sean hadn't agreed to go undercover, I never would have investigated his crime. I promised him that on the condition of him coming clean. It was ultimately his decision."

"He didn't want it hanging over his head. Paxton could have used it again and again-"

"He didn't want it hanging over you, either."

Lucy knew that was true, but hearing Rick tell her that Sean's primary reason for risking his life and his reputation was to protect her career twisted her with guilt. Sean should have known she'd love him no matter what he'd done in his past. Her career meant nothing to her without Sean to share her life with. He should have told her from the beginning, when Paxton first blackmailed him. She was angry with both him and herself that he hadn't, but maybe she hadn't made it clear to him that he could trust her explicitly.

Why do you love me?

Sean was one of the smartest, most confident people Lucy had ever met, but he had an irrational fear that he didn't deserve her. That fear led him to take these risks, as if by being bold he could earn her love, when he'd already won her heart many times over.

"I'm glad Noah is watching his back," Lucy finally said, uncomfortable with the scrutiny that Rick placed on her. "Sean does a good job taking care of himself, but we all need backup."

"I'll move heaven and earth to protect him, Lucy."

She nodded and mustered up a half-smile. "Direct me to my temporary desk. I'm ready to get to work."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

Deanna had no intention of returning to FBI headquarters, not this morning. Everyone was running around like she was at fault when all she'd done was her job.

Why did everyone think Sean Rogan was innocent? He was guilty of something. He always had been. That saying, that tigers can't change their stripes? That was Rogan. He was a hacker twelve years ago; he was a hacker now. He destroyed lives and didn't care who he hurt.

What really bothered her more than Rogan's brazen disregard for the law or that he'd run from her after being caught red-handed at a murder scene was that everyone in her office had accepted an outsider's word over hers. She didn't care that Agent Noah Armstrong worked in the D.C. office, or that he was some rising star, or that he was vouching for Rogan.

The whole thing felt wrong. Something was going on and she was being kept out of the loop.

She jogged to work out her anger but didn't feel any better. After showering, she pulled out her files on Sean Rogan. She needed to think two steps ahead. Where was he going to turn up next?

If she only knew where he lived, she could wait for him. Or, better, search his apartment for a clue about where he was hiding out. If she could just get him in interrogation she'd get him to slip up.

She rubbed her head and took a sip of coffee. Her cell phone rang. It was Steve Gannon.

"What?" she answered. Even Steve was treating her like some sort of pariah. And he'd been the most supportive of her quest for justice. In fact, he'd been the one who told her that Sean Rogan was in New York in the first place, and yet now Steve was acting like she had some sort of obsession. What if the roles were reversed? He'd be doing the same thing she was if some b.a.s.t.a.r.d like Rogan had irrevocably damaged his career.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm working from home today. Torres told me not to come in."

"I know; I'm just worried about you."

"I'm fine." She paused. "What's going on at the office? Is Agent Armstrong still pulling the wool over Torres's eyes?"

"Well, they haven't put the APB back on Rogan, but he hasn't come in. He gave a statement about the shooting. I'm not supposed to give it to you, but-" He stopped. "Okay, I just e-mailed it. Just-it was dark in the stairwell; there was a lot of stuff going on. Maybe you remembered things differently-"

Deanna's chest tightened. "Are you doubting me, too?"

"No, I just-"

"You don't believe me. It's his word against mine, and no one believes me! I'm the federal agent; he's a known criminal!"

"Deanna, you're a great agent. Don't let this jerk take you down."

"I don't plan on it. Thanks for the heads-up." She hung up her phone, not wanting to hear the pity in Steve's voice.

She clicked on the video link. Rogan was sitting at a desk; there was a diploma that was out of focus on the wall behind him, but she squinted and figured out it was his, from MIT.

He began, "My name is Sean Tyler Rogan. It is Wednesday, October 24, at five ten a.m. I'm making this recording as a statement to the events as I know them that occurred on Tuesday, October 23."

Women found Sean Rogan attractive, but not Deanna. She saw the slime beneath his fake charm and dimples. His blue eyes might seem soulful or fun or whatever he wanted someone to see, but she saw dark ice, all the way to his heart. He might have been seventeen when she arrested him, but he had a hefty juvenile record that didn't just end when he turned eighteen, no matter what his brother Duke said.

Sean continued, "I started to run when I heard someone walk into the apartment, unsure who it was. I knew of the back staircase and tunnels from my previous visits to Hunter's house. I heard a female identify herself as FBI, but I continued to run because I didn't know if the person was telling the truth. There had been an FBI agent following me around New York for the last few days without making an attempt to communicate."

Liar! He'd avoided her, slipped away. b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

He claimed he didn't fire his gun but admitted he had a gun in his backpack.

"Smooth," she said. "Real smooth, Rogan."

He explained how he hid down a narrow pa.s.sage, in the dark, while she called out for him.

"I heard two gunshots and the female call out that I was a rat like the ones she was seeing in the tunnels. I feared for my safety, and remained in hiding until I was certain she had gone. I slipped through the maintenance door leading to one of the subway tunnels, and exited.

"I did not kill my friend Hunter Nash. He was dead when I arrived. I didn't touch his body. I did not fire my gun at all on Tuesday, and I did not aim or fire my gun at any person, including the FBI. I'll come to FBI headquarters in a day or two to answer any questions you may have. You can reach me through my attorney."

Attorney? What attorney?

That was it. Three minutes and he was done? No one was allowed to give a statement like this. He needed to be interviewed, asked questions, held accountable for his actions.

And he was getting away with it.

She cried out in despair, her fists clenched in frustration. Her phone rang again and she almost ignored it.

She was glad she didn't. It was her informant.

"Um, Deanna?" the skittish voice said.

"Yes. Do you have something for me?"

"You, um, wanted an address. On that guy, Rogan."

"You have it?"

"Yes." The informant gave her an address in SoHo. It wouldn't take Deanna more than fifteen minutes to get there, even in morning traffic.

"Thank you. Is he there now?"

"Yes."

She smiled. "Thanks." She hung up and grabbed her gun.

This time, Sean Rogan would not get away.

Duke took the red-eye from Sacramento to New York and landed at 9:05 a.m. East Coast time. He hadn't slept well on the plane, which didn't surprise him. He'd left his pregnant wife at home-even though Nora was only five months along, because she was forty, her pregnancy was considered high-risk. He had friends both at RCK and in her office promising to keep an eye on her, but Nora was a workaholic and even on desk duty she would work overtime if he didn't call her at six every night reminding her of the time.

Duke hadn't planned on coming to New York, but Sean had changed his phone number again and was unreachable. Worse, Lucy didn't know anything, but she, too, had been questioned by Agent Brighton. Lucy was just as worried as Duke.

Duke wanted to throttle Sean-how could he put Lucy through this? How could he get involved with Colton Thayer again? Sean was a smart kid, too smart, but with the brains came arrogance and a superiority complex. Duke had thought Sean had really grown this past year, but he was mistaken.

He called Jaye as soon as he landed. "Did you find out where he's living?"

"It's six in the morning here."

"Jaye, please."

"I found him. It wasn't easy-no utilities, no rental agreement, nothing-but I backtraced his laptop based on the anomaly I found in the admin code I told you about Monday, then located the most active center. It's spent a lot of time at an apartment building in SoHo. I'll send you the address. I don't have an apartment number, though."

"You're amazing. I'll find him."

"Maybe he has a good reason-"

"Don't make excuses for him, Jaye," Duke said. He was over and done with Sean's excuses. Everyone thought that because he was "cute" he should be cut some slack. Or that because he lost his parents when he was fourteen, he should be forgiven for his indiscretions. But this was more than an indiscretion-this was a crime-and Duke didn't really care why Sean had fallen back into his old hacktivist group; that he had would put him in prison. Or worse. He was going to lose Lucy, and it would break her heart. Sean's actions would do major damage to RCK across the board. Sean had risked not only his career and Duke's career, but also the careers of everyone they employed.

Selfish. He never thought of how his actions were going to impact anyone else.

Duke took a cab to the apartment building. It was non-descript, with a buzzer door. He walked around to the underground parking and waited until he had an opportunity to slip through the security door when a car left, the driver distracted as she put on lipstick while driving.

Sean's Mustang was in the slot for 402. He was here.

Duke took the elevator to the fourth floor, not knowing exactly how he was going to convince Sean to cut ties with Thayer, but he was willing to do anything. Or he'd call the cops himself.

He stopped outside Sean's door. Would he do that? Call the police on his own brother? He thought of all the times that Sean had risked his life for Duke and their clients. All the times when Sean had figured out the flaws in security that had helped grow RCK into a premier cybersecurity firm. He'd risked his life flying into a forest fire to save Nora. Selfish? No. Sean wasn't selfish.








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