Page 99 of Preying Heart
It’s our version of the witness protection plan—heh, heh, heh, mainly they’re protected from being witnesses against their overlords.
See how charitable I am?
ChapterThirty-Seven
Heath
“Great. That about wraps it up.” Justin hands me the memory key where he accessed OgleNet’s database of images and videos. “We have the exact coordinates of where this garden shed is located. Isn’t technology awesome?”
“It’s scary how much they know.” To say I’m stunned is an understatement. Here I was, all these years doing the cloak and dagger. No wonder Claudia’s dad knew exactly where to contact me and was always ahead of me on Remi’s location. “I wonder if OgleNet is connected to traffic cameras and facial recognition.”
“Oh, I bet they are,” Justin says heartily. This is right up his alley. “Every phone image is automatically geotagged with the GPS coordinates unless the user turns off the location setting and blocks the photo app from capturing GPS data.”
“How about the snapshot with the wallpaper background? This looks like it was taken by a Polaroid instant camera.”
“OgleNet has an artificial intelligence engine that can go through stored images looking for similarities. We found an exact match, and using facial recognition, we’re almost certain this woman is Remi’s mother.”
“Incredible.”
“Not only that, but the artificial intelligence engine was able to correlate all pictures showing Remi’s mother that had other people in it and then trace those people’s associations.” Justin hits the print button on the computer. “And look at this.”
“Horace Steele’s on the list.” Chills ring the back of my neck at the man I tracked through the strip clubs and massage parlors. “Who are the other people in the picture?”
“Gavin’s father, Stan Greasley, Remi’s mother in the bunny hostess outfit, and Claudia looking bored. Taken at a fundraiser more than ten years ago. Posted by Claudia with a caption complaining about boring Boomers.”
“Look at that porn-stache on Stan Greasley.”
“No doubt.” Justin chuckles. “I’d say we’ve got them. All we have to do is get Gavin on the wire instructing Remi and Slade on the hit on Claudia, have them meet Officer Owens, and turn themselves in. Then once they’re secured under protective custody, we hit the Farm and check on Remi’s mother. She may not actually be a hostage—just someone Gavin knows is living there as a resident.”
“Right.” I glance at my watch. “Let me text Lucy and see how Remi’s doing. If we didn’t have to do this murder sting, I’d just as soon take her away from here. I don’t see how Gavin thinks he’s going to get away with having Slade kill his wife.”
“He doesn’t know you called me in,” Justin says. “Claudia says she’s keeping mum. I’m sure she’s interested in knowing whether Gavin’s really trying to kill her.”
“This entire thing feels too staged.” I shrug, unable to shake the niggling feeling that something isn’t quite right. “I feel like we’re missing something.”
“What you’re missing is sleep.” Justin claps me on the back. “Why don’t you and Glock come home with me? I’ve already got officers keeping an eye on Remi’s place as well as on Gavin’s mansion.”
“What I don’t get is why Gavin would want to kill Claudia in such a clumsy manner? Does he really think he can get away with it?”
“It’s actually quite brilliant,” Justin says. “An accident by a guy who Claudia pressed charges against.”
“Something’s still not right. Why didn’t he just instruct Slade to do it? Why involve Remi?”
“Kill two birds with one stone? I don’t know.” Justin shuts down his computer and picks up his briefcase and jacket. “Let’s call it a night. You haven’t met my wife. She’s an awesome cook, and the guest room is all set up for you.”
“I’m sure she’s fantastic, but I’ll take a rain check. I’d feel better staked outside of Remi’s place. I need to be there when Gavin picks her up to take her to the hit job. Hopefully he’ll say something incriminating.”
“Okay then, I’ll drop you off.”
Walking past the desks of my former colleagues is like walking the gauntlet as the weird kid in high school. Everyone wants to ask me how I’ve been. Some stare, and others whisper. According to the department’s official records, I took stress disability because I arrested the wrong guy—mistook a philanthropist for a trafficker.
I still don’t think I’m wrong. Horace Steele has to be the mastermind behind all of this but he hides behind OgleNet, which I’m starting to see is used by law enforcement. This automatically makes him one of the “good guys,” at least on the surface.
Once we’re outside, I text Lucy.
Got the location of where they’re keeping Slade. How’s Remi holding up? How about you?
I didn’t expect her to reply right away, but as I get into Justin’s car and he takes the short drive back to the Belltown district, I decide to ring her phone.
