Page 32 of Desperate Creed

“You must want something big,” he said as he snapped off the lid and took a sip. “Oh, that is some kind of wonderful. Go ahead, ask and you share receive.”

Although Alonzo was considered a data wizard he defied the computer nerd stereotype. A fashion trendsetter in a building of drab navy, black or brown suits, Alonzo wore a bright orange button-down shirt that complimented his brown skin. His tie and the frames of his eyeglasses always seemed to match. Today, they were an indigo blue. He wore khakis and high-polished, brown leather shoes. He also, smelled good. Not ordinary aftershave. Something citrus with a hint of coconut.

“There were two homicides in Chicago this morning,” she told him as she popped open a can of Diet Pepsi. “Two young men, middle twenties. Deacon Kaye was shot—execution style—in what looked like a home invasion. The other man, Tyler Gates, was shot on the street. Actually, just a few streets away. A possible botched robbery except they left the wallet. Took the cell phone. Both shootings took place in about the timeframe of an hour.”

Alonzo sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee, listening, taking it all in. She knew he wouldn’t interrupt her until she was finished.

“The men were friends. Kaye was a mid-level computer analyst for a chemical laboratory. Gates was a junior account rep for an advertising agency. They hacked into a company’s computer email last week.”

She paused and waited, letting him mull it over. He sat forward with his first question. “A military contractor?”

Maggie shook her head. “A cereal company.”

“Cereal? As in Fruit Loops and Cheerios?”

“Not those two in particular, but yes, cereal and breakfast bars. It’s a food company called Carson Foods.”

“How do you know they hacked into the company’s computer?”

“A woman named Francine Russo worked at the advertising agency with Tyler Gates. They’re the account reps putting together an advertising campaign for the company’s latest organic breakfast bars. Gates didn’t like that the products were suspected of having glyphosate in them.”

“Glyphosate? That’s some sort of herbicide to kill weeds?”

“Or regulate plant growth. Sometimes it’s used as a drying agent.”

“But it’s toxic?” Alonzo asked.

“It’s been registered as a pesticide since 1974. The EPA says there are no risks to public health when glyphosate is used in accordance with its current label and that glyphosate is not a carcinogen. I’m quoting.”

“I see.” He put down his coffee and steepled his fingers.

“But the World Health Organization and some recent studies have labeled it a carcinogen that increases the risk of cancer.”

“Ah, I get it,” Alonzo said. “And Mr. Tyler’s computer buddy at the chemical lab tested the breakfast bars, and indeed, found disturbing levels of this pesky pesticide.”

“Yes. Russo was on the phone video-chatting with him about it when he was shot.”

Alonzo whistled and tapped his fingers together. “I don’t like where this is going. What do you need from me?”

In the past, Antonio Alonzo had been able to provide the unthinkable from satellite photos of a killer’s gravesites to security camera feeds of a WalMart parking lot in the Midwest. He could track down the smallest piece of evidence, run it through databases and somehow find its relevance. He had been Maggie’s right-hand man on several cases, accessing vital information in a remarkably short amount of time. On one occasion he provided life or death information. And he didn’t just depend on computers and databases. The man was an encyclopedia of facts and trivia.

Maggie gave him the names of the three people involved: Francine Russo, Tyler Gates and Deacon Kaye along with any details Hannah had been able to share as well as the information from Detective Jacks.

“Anything you can find about Carson Foods and their CEO might also be helpful,” Maggie added.

“I seem to remember a lawsuit regarding glyphosate. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a food company though.”

“Maybe there’s a connection. You think this could be about warding off possible lawsuits?”

He shrugged. “We both know people have killed for less.” He was already making notes on a yellow legal pad. “Makes more sense than it being about cereal.”

“Breakfast bars,” she corrected him.

He looked up and smiled at her. “Right. That makes a big difference.” He tapped his pen against the notepad. “You said the killer took Tyler Gates’ cell phone?”

“It wasn’t at the scene or on him,” Maggie said. “Is that significant?”

“There’s a whole bunch of information stored on a person’s phone.”