“Let me guess.” Lucas settled back in his chair. “It didn’t come from the doctor who signed off on those so-called records?”
Blake grinned. “It didn’t come from a doctor’s office, at all.”
“What do you mean?” Janie frowned, looking Emmett’s way before turning back to Blake. “If those records aren’t real, then where did they come from?”
“That’s what I’ve spent the last few days trying to figure out.” Blake went to the screen and began to explain with more detail what he found. “See these lines?” He pointed to the various zigzags crossing the map. “Those are all the different signals my system picked up when trying to trace the emailed file’s origin.”
“Signal jammer?” Draven guessed.
Their teammate at the front of the room gave a nod. “A very sophisticated one, too,” he confirmed. “That’s why it’s taken me days rather than hours. Whoever sent that file was determined to keep their location a secret.”
“But you cracked it, right?” Ryker stepped closer to the long table, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’m assuming that’s what this is about?”
“Oh, yeah.” Blake’s excitement returned ten-fold. “I cracked it, all right. The file was created on a computer using a server inside this building.”
He tapped the screen, causing the map to instantlyvanish. In its place was a picture. One of a three-story, art-deco style building with several barred windows and a non-descript door.
“What’s that?”
“On paper?” The man currently in charge of the room gave a shrug. “It presents itself as a medical facility that offers out-patient psychiatric care.”
“And in reality?” Gwen’s long hair slid from one shoulder with a tilt of her head.
Blake turned his attention to the team’s demolitions expert. “In reality, it’s nothing more than a front.”
“A front for what?” Emmett was next to speak up.
When the team’s resident genius turned his way, the look he gave Emmett turned his blood to ice.
“That’s just it.” Blake gave a solemn shrug. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Ryker’s tone left little wonder to the man’s disbelief. “Why call us in here if you don’t have anything helpful?”
Rather than let Ryker’s brusque tone throw him off his game, Blake motioned toward the table’s empty seats with a smile.
“If you’ll indulge me for just a moment, I promise it’ll all start to make more sense.”
Ryker looked to Emmett, who shot him a look before heading to the table and taking a seat next to Draven. He would’ve much rather been sitting beside Janie, but since that wasn’t an option, he’d have to settle for being a few feet away.
“Dr. Michael Turner, the psychiatrist who signed off on Amy’s so-called medical records is, in fact, very real,”Blake shared. “If you look into him at all, you’d find the same thing I did, which is that he runs a legit private practice from an office downtown. But what youwouldn’tsee, and what took me entirely too long to find, is the good doctor is also connected to an offshore account in the Caymans.”
“Lots of people have accounts like that,” Lucas was quick to point out. “Doesn’t mean the guy is dirty.”
“It does when the name publicly listed on that same account matches the fake psychiatry group supposedly working out of that building.” Blake pointed to the image still filling the screen.
“Wait.” Janie forced the room into a moment of clarification. “So your saying this account and the pseudo medical office are both proof that Amy’s history of mental illness was faked?”
“It’s as close as we’re gonna get.” Blake nodded. “For now.”
Gwen looked down the table to Emmett. “I say we go talk to the crooked doctor. I’m sure we could get the guy to talk.”
“Maybe.” Lucas joined back in. “Depends on who’s behind the money.”
Draven scoffed. “Isn’t it always about following the money?”
“Nine times out of ten,” Ryker answered with a nod. To Blake, he asked, “Were you able to trace the deposit’s origin?”
“As a matter of fact . . .” The brilliant man tapped the screen on his tablet once more.
