Daniel forced himself to put her out of his head. He wouldn’t make any more attempts to access the database tonight, but he still had legitimate work he could be doing right now, both for Trendsetters and for FinCEN. The final specs for the Leyland Group’s new customer management system were due within the next week. And, back at FinCEN, Preston had asked for help on a case that was tied to one Daniel had worked on last year.
He forwarded the old emails and voicemails to Preston, then returned to working on the back-end architecture for the Leyland Group’s WLAN design. Their team had been told just this morning that Leyland’s upper management decided to go with this configuration, which, coincidentally, was the same one Hughes Hospitality had used for their wireless local area network. Suddenly, being placed on this team worked in his favor. He now had access to information that had been previously out of his reach.
As he read over the details of the initial design, a name on the original team popped out at him.
“What the—?”
Daniel switched between screens, his heart suddenly thumping with enough bass to rival every track on Dr. Dre’sThe Chronicalbum.
“No way,” he whispered.
He looked over each shoulder to make sure he was alone, then pulled out his tablet and clicked on the folder that contained the dossiers he’d been briefed with before starting at Trendsetters. He scanned the file names and, once he found the one he was looking for, tapped to open it. The work history section went back only two and a half years. FinCEN had gathered as much information on Trendsetters’ employees as possible, but he’d been told before leaving Virginia that some files were incomplete.
“I’ll be a son of a bitch,” Daniel whispered. Why hadn’t he made this connection?
He shut down his computer, quickly packed up his gear, and left the office, all thoughts of avoiding Quentin forgotten. If the man still wanted to rail at him over his relationship with Samiah, he could do it once he and Daniel talked through this newest revelation.
When he opened the door to the apartment, he found Quentin in his usual spot, on the sofa surrounded by files and reports.
“Well, well, well,” Quentin sang, his eyes still on his case files. “Look who decided to make an appearance.”
“Mike Epsen worked on the Hughes Hospitality account when it first came to Trendsetters.”
Quentin set the file folder on the sofa and turned. “Isn’t that the guy who got hit while riding his bicycle? The one whose place you took on that new project?”
Daniel nodded as he walked over to him and handed him the iPad with Mike’s dossier.
“Hughes Hospitality had been on FinCEN’s radar for months, but it was an anonymous tip that drew our attention to the Trendsetters connection. Dwyer said the tipster kept in regular contact, never revealing himself or a name, just making sure they knew the laundering was still going on. About two weeks ago the tips stopped coming. Just went completely dark.”
“Around the same time Mike Epsen’s bicycle had an unfortunate meeting with the front fender of that bus,” Quentin said. “But, seriously, do you think a city bus driver is somehow connected to this?”
“No, the bus driver wasn’t at fault.” Daniel shook his head. “Didn’t I tell you? I got the whole story a couple of days after the accident. A car encroached on the bike lane, which caused Mike to swerve into the bus. But the driver of the car never stopped. Everyone has been going on the assumption that the person driving the car was texting or distracted in some way and just didn’t see what happened. But now?”
“My old boss had a saying, coincidences are just connections that haven’t been made yet,” Quentin said. “I think this is a piece of that connection.”
“That accident was no accident. It was meant to scare him into silence.”
“Mission accomplished.” Quentin looked up at him. “Do you think your girlfriend can shed some light on it?”
Daniel dropped his head back. Staring up at the kidney-shaped water stain on the ceiling, he released a deep sigh. “You couldn’t wait to go there, could you?”
“I’m just saying.” Quentin held his hands up. “If you’re going to violate rules, at least make it work in your favor. Find a way to bring Mike’s name up in conversation. Ask her how his department is handling his absence, if coworkers have had to step in for Mike in the past. Maybe she can give you some clues that can help you figure out if he’s your tipster.”
“Or maybe I can go and see Mike for myself,” Daniel said.
“I’d clear it with FinCEN before taking that step.” He gestured at Daniel’s iPad. “Let them know about that ASAP. It may be all the evidence you need to convince Dwyer that you need to take this investigation to the next level. Who knows, you may be on your way back to Virginia sooner rather than later.”
Daniel nodded, but the sudden onset of nausea in his belly was telling.
He was here for one reason only, to uncover who had been using Hughes Hospitality as a front to launder money. He should be euphoric at the thought of catching a break in this case. That Vegas job—the prize—was waiting for him, like a golden ticket sitting behind protective glass, just out of his reach. This possible connection between Mike Epsen’s accident and the money laundering could be the key to unlocking that glass box.
So why did the thought of bringing this case to a close leave such a horrible taste in his mouth?
Chapter Twenty
Squinting, Samiah leaned forward until the laptop was only a few inches from her face. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head, yelling at her not to put her eyes too close to the screen or else she’d burn her eyeballs. Too late. Between her phone, laptop, tablet, and two computer monitors at work, she spent at least 80 percent of her day staring at a retina screen. The damage was already done.
An anxious flutter rolled through her stomach as she examined the API she’d spent much of the past few weeks building and tweaking, then tweaking and rebuilding. This was it. The deciding factor when it came to making the deadline for the Future in Innovation Tech Conference. She’d already accepted that if she wasn’t able to validate the JSON API schema, she wouldn’t bother signing up for one of the coveted spots at FITC when it came to Austin in the spring.
