Page 40 of Investigation of a Quest

“Nope,” Olivia said. “We only found this cell and a laptop.”

“Maybe his office had a landline that he used instead of a company phone.” Bel shrugged.

“A landline for a man who’s never home during the week and who was always traveling?” Her partner frowned at her, and Bel instantly felt stupid for the suggestion. She’d forgotten how scatterbrained the lack of sleep made her.

“Scratch that comment from the record.” She sank to her desk and woke up her computer. A man without a company phone whose job required weekly travel? There was so much wrong with that picture that she didn’t know where to start, so she typed Diggs’ company web address into the search bar. “Or…” she dragged out the word as the realization struck her. “Maybe he didn’t have a work phone because his job didn’t exist.”

“What are you talking about?” Olivia leaned over to look at her screen. “That’s the website his wife gave us.”

“It is,” Bel confirmed. “And it seems legitimate until you dig. See. Some links are clickable, but some are fake buttons. They’re just embedded images to mimic a navigation menu.” She used her mouse to illustrate her point. “The links that curious viewers would click work, but everything else? The site is practically two-dimensional, and there’s no contact information. No physical address, no phone number, no email, or newsletter signup. Hold on…” Bel pulled up the maps tab and searched the company name, but nothing came up. “There are reasons a business’ address might not be publicly listed, but this website looks like a front. His wife said he was gone a lot. I wonder if he’s undercover, or if his job is classified.”

“That could very well be the case,” Griffin said as he approached their desks. “Oscar Diggs is an alias. There is no such person.”

“If he’s undercover or working for a classified government operation, it would make sense why his death was different,” Bel said. “Maybe his job got him killed, and his murderer mimicked the first two deaths to hide his involvement. We’d link it to the professor and the doctor, and the real killer would leave town unnoticed. It would also explain why Diggs never called work from his cell. He probably used a burner for that, or there’s a second phone somewhere.”

“Emerson, call Agent Barry and see if the FBI has an agent operating as an Oscar Diggs,” Griffin said. “I’ll contact the other agencies.”

“Sure thing,” Bel said, as a nagging thought begged for attention. “But why would an undercover agent have such an expensive house?”

“A corporate investigation?” Griffin shrugged. “He had to fit the CEO bill.”

“But what about the family?” Bel asked. “His kids aren’t babies. Has he really been undercover for over a decade? Seems unlikely. What if we’re looking at the wrong side of the law? What if this fake website and name are to hide his criminal activities from his wife? She thinks he has a boring office job, and he pays for their house with, I don’t know, drug money? You heard her.” She gestured at Olivia. “Mrs. Diggs told us they never have financial problems.”

“That’s also a possibility,” Griffin said. “We ran his prints, though, and nothing, which is an argument for both. If he’s undercover, his agency wouldn’t keep them on record, and if he’s a criminal, that kind of wealth proves he’s good at staying under the radar.”

“Until now,” Olivia said. “But the wealth might come in handy. A lot of expensive cars have built-in GPS navigators. His phone might not tell us anything, but maybe his car has his recent trips in its memory.”

“It’s worth checking out,” Griffin said.

“So, if Oscar Diggs isn’t real, then there’s no marriage certificate, is there?” Olivia asked.

“Nope,” Griffin said. “Mrs. Diggs either knows their marriage is a cover, at least on paper, or she’s being lied to. Depends on who her husband really is.”

“She wasn’t faking her shock last night,” Bel said. “Both undercover and criminal work are riddled with risks. Anyone aware of what their spouse was involved in would also understand that death was a possible outcome. Unless she’s the world’s greatest actor, she had no idea who he really was.”

“Their kids?” Olivia asked. “Is there documentation for them?”

“There are birth certificates for the children, yes,” Griffin answered.

“Those poor kids.” Olivia shook her head. “And for it all to happen in their house. I hate that we have to bother this family again.”

“I know, but we need to determine if Diggs’ death is related to our case, or if there’s a second killer. So let me know if you find anything,” Griffin said. “I’ll make some calls and see if he’s working for anyone.”

The detectives left the station, and Bel called Agent Jameson Barry while they drove. She’d met the FBI agent during the Darling kidnapping case, and they’d formed an excellent working relationship. Unfortunately, he’d never heard of an Oscar Diggs. If their dead wizard was a government operative, he either didn’t belong to the FBI or his mission was above Barry’s clearance.

“What do you want now?” the neighbor from the night before asked when she answered the door and found the officers disgracing the front porch.

“We need to ask Mrs. Diggs a few more questions,” Olivia said, taking control again to shield Bel from this family’s hostility.

“I think you’ve bothered her enough,” the neighbor said.

“I don’t blame you for feeling that way.” Bel stepped forward, shamelessly angling her head so that her scars were front and center for this conversation, and the woman fell for the bait, her eyes dipping to the pink deformities carving apart Bel’s throat. “But there’s something worse than talking to us, and that’s not knowing. That’s going to bed knowing the attacker is still out there. That he took something you can never get back, and because he’s free, you’ll never trust your safety. You’ll lie awake at night wondering if he’ll return to finish the job, so let us help make sure he can’t.”

The door opened, and Mrs. Diggs appeared from her hiding spot behind her friend, her eyes lingering on Bel’s throat for longer than was polite. Bel felt bad about using her marks as leverage, but if witches were about to wage war in Bajka, they couldn’t afford to let a grieving wife block their investigation, no matter how her anguish broke their hearts.

“What do you need?” Mrs. Diggs asked.

“Can we search your husband’s car?” Bel asked. She didn’t wish to tell the widow about Oscar’s false identity until they knew who they were dealing with. If he was undercover, they didn’t want to blow a mission, and if he was a criminal, they didn’t want his associates coming after the family.