CHAPTER 22
Sean was already late for work, but he had a stop to make, and it couldn’t wait.
It had only taken one phone call for Sean to learn that Matt Jorgensen belonged to a local gym popular with cops and firefighters. Pulling into the parking lot now, Sean immediately spotted the black F-250. He slid into a nearby space, checked his watch, and got out to wait.
Sean no longer believed Jorgensen might be responsible for the drive-by shooting. Not only did his vehicle not match, but Sean’s contact in the Burr County sheriff’s department had told him Jorgensen had been on duty that night. It wasn’t an airtight alibi, but combined with what Brooke had said and what Sean had dug up on his own, it made him believe Jorgensen wasn’t a fit for the crime. Sean had done some subtle poking around, and the picture he was getting of Brooke’s ex was more consistent with that of a hotheaded asshole than a cold-blooded killer.
Jorgensen emerged from the gym. Right on time. It was exactly one hour since the desk clerk inside had called to give Sean the heads-up. Jorgensen was distracted with his phone, and Sean took the time to look him over. The man was bigger than he had expected and pumped up from his workout, and Sean began to second-guess his decision to do this alone. He’d thought about bringing Ric or Jasper, but this move was strategic. It wasn’t about muscle.
Even so, Sean knew there was a chance he was about to get his nose broken.
Jorgensen glanced up and noticed Sean watching him. His gaze went to Sean’s badge and gun, but there was no recognition or even suspicion—which was good news because that meant he hadn’t been following Brooke’s every move.
Sean pushed off his truck and walked over. “Matt Jorgensen?”
Suspicion kicked in. “Yeah?”
Sean stopped in front of him, blocking the path to his truck. The man had three inches and at least fifty pounds on him, but Sean’s detective shield counted for a lot in cop circles.
“Sean Byrne, SMPD. You and I need to talk.”
Jorgensen looked mildly annoyed. “What about?”
“Brooke Porter.”
The light came on as Jorgensen realized this wasn’t something work related. He crossed his arms, and Sean noted the scars Brooke had told him about.
“What about her?”
“Brooke’s a friend of mine. Which means I’m watching out for her.”
Jorgensen’s gaze narrowed.
“And when I’m not around, my friends are watching out for her. And when they’re not around, their friends are watching out for her. You need to leave her alone.”
Jorgensen stared down at him. Sean didn’t blink. Several seconds ticked by, and finally Jorgensen looked away.
“Look, you can tell Brooke I don’t give a shit what she does anymore.”
Sean studied him, trying to get a read. To his surprise, the man seemed genuine. Maybe he had come to terms with the situation and decided to cut his losses. Or maybe not. Only time would tell.
Jorgensen nodded at the door. “Do you mind?”
Sean stepped back. Jorgensen slid into his truck, started it up, and drove away.
• • •
“You’re late,” Callie hissed as Sean dropped into the seat beside her.
He glanced at the clock on the wall, then at the faces around the conference table. The whole team was here, with the notable exception of Christine, who’d pulled the overnight shift at the judge’s house, and Jasper, who was on surveillance right now.
“It’s always better if you have the devices,” Alex Lovell was saying. The cybercrimes expert sat at the head of the table with a laptop open in front of her. “But since those haven’t been recovered, I used data from the phone company to get an overview.”
Sean glanced at Callie, who was watching him closely. He’d gone by his house to shower and change, but something told him he hadn’t managed to erase the evidence that he’d been up most of the night.
“Anything interesting in the phone records?” Ric asked Alex.
“A lot. The records show that these victims were in contact with each other several weeks before they were murdered. I found phone calls on November first, third, and tenth.”
“Any record of them texting?” Sean asked.
“No.”
“What about any calls to Eric Mahoney, our prime suspect?” Callie asked.
“No, but I found some other communications you might be interested in.”
Around the table everyone perked up.
Alex tapped some keys on her computer. “Okay, so it doesn’t appear that Jasmine Jones owned a computer.”
“We didn’t find one,” Ric said. “She was renting a room in a girlfriend’s apartment, and her possessions were minimal. She’d sold her car after losing her job a few months ago, and it looks like she was pretty close to broke.”
Alex nodded. “But I was provided with a laptop belonging to Samantha Bonner. She had an email account through the university, where I understand she was a part-time student.”
“That’s right,” Ric said. “But I thought we checked those emails. You’re saying we missed something?”
“That edu email wasn’t her only account. A detailed search of her browsing history turned up a Gmail account that she used infrequently.”
“How infrequently?” Sean asked.
“The in-box is mostly ads and spam. So I’m guessing it’s a secondary email address she gave out to stores and companies that she didn’t want cluttering up her primary account. The in-box is full of junk and the out-box is empty, however”—Alex tapped her computer and an email message flashed onto the large display screen on the wall—“the drafts folder contained this unfinished message, dated October thirtieth.”
Sean’s pulse quickened as he read the words:
Time’s ticking. You know what you have to do. We have the—
“It cuts off in midsentence,” Callie noted.
“Like I said, it appears to be a draft she never sent.”
“Who’s johnjohn9987?” Sean asked, reading the recipient address in the header.
“I don’t know.”
“It says ‘we,’ ” Ric pointed out. “You think she’s talking about herself and Jasmine?”
“Could be, although I found no email communication between the two of them, only phone calls.”
Ric turned to Sean. “Sounds like some kind of extortion plan.”
That had been Sean’s first impression, too. “We need more on this johnjohn person. Clearly, it’s a guy.”
“You can’t necessarily assume that. But after running down this account, I’d say it’s a good bet.”
“What do you mean ‘running down this account’?” Callie asked. “You hacked into it?”
Alex smiled. “Let’s just say I accessed the account through creative means.” She tapped her computer, and another screenshot came up behind her. This one showed an in-box filled with unopened messages. “As you can see from the subject lines, whoever has this johnjohn9987 account is getting bombarded with ads for erectile pills, sex toys, online dating sites.”
“I get some of that stuff, too,” Callie said. “That doesn’t make the account holder a guy.”
“True. But as far as the username, the one attached to this account is a John Green.”
“Sounds phony,” Sean said.
Alex nodded. “I agree. So, we’re basically left scouring the account itself for clues. Thing is, there’s no record of an email from Samantha Bonner’s Gmail address in here. So, if she ever sent a message like the one in her drafts folder, it looks like johnjohn9987 deleted it. However—”
Sean was beginning to like how Alex said that word, and he watched with interest as she clicked into another screen.
“I found this interesting message in johnjohn’s junk folder. Looks like it got caught in the spam filter, so johnjohn might never have seen it.”
Sean leaned forward as he read the message:
Clock’s ticking. You know what you have to do. We have the proof so don’t make us go public.
“Now that definitely sounds like extortion,” Ric said.
Sean read the sender name, JMJFlowergirl. “Those are Jasmine’s initials. Jasmine Michelle Jones.”
“And her name is a type of flower.” Callie looked at Sean. “The second victim sent this. And it’s almost identical to a message in the first victim’s drafts folder.”
“And look at the timing, November second,” Sean said. “That’s right after the draft message. Samantha and Jasmine were working together to extort this guy. Wonder what this ‘proof’ is they’re threatening to make public. Maybe pictures or video or something?”
“But where’s the money demand?” Callie asked.
“Maybe a separate email that got deleted. If this message ended up in the Junk folder, maybe they emailed him again sometime later.” Sean looked at Alex. “Is that possible?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, but who are they trying to shake down?” Ric asked. “We have no link to our prime suspect, Eric Mahoney. Or am I missing something?”
All eyes turned to Alex, and Sean liked the satisfied look on her face.
“I traced the IP to find out where these johnjohn emails are being pulled. Only two locations came up. One is a location in Marshall County, about a hundred miles south of here. The second location is in Burrville. The specific network is maintained by the county justice complex.”
“That’s the courthouse,” Sean said. “That’s our warrant right there.”
“Hell yeah, it’s our warrant.” Ric pushed back his chair. “I’m going to go call Rachel, give her the update, see how fast she can move on this. Alex, will you talk through all this with the DA?”
“Of course. But are you sure you’re ready to bring her in? I mean, yes, the courthouse is on this network, and that would include Eric Mahoney’s office. But I can’t trace this to him specifically. At least not yet. I know you guys are in a hurry, but I’ve got some more work to do here.”
“Keep working.” Ric got to his feet. “But in the meantime I’m going to see what we can do with what we have.”
He left the room, and Alex watched him go with a look of concern.
“Don’t worry,” Sean told her. “Rachel makes a habit of dotting all the i’s and crossing all the t’s.” He turned to Callie, who was staring at the screen on the wall. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m still not convinced.”
“How can you not be convinced? Alex just linked both victims to our prime suspect with an extortion scheme.”
“Walk me through it,” Callie said. “I want to play devil’s advocate.”
Sean summoned all his patience, when what he wanted to do was race over to the courthouse and drag the judge off in handcuffs. “Okay, so we know these victims knew Judge Mahoney when they were teenagers. And Mahoney associates with crooked cops who have been known to hook up with underage prostitutes.”
Alex looked startled. “He does?”
“Allegedly,” Callie said. “But fine, keep going.”
“So, say he somehow manipulated these girls while he had control over their cases. It’s a classic abuse of power. These girls are isolated and vulnerable, they’re in trouble with the law and have zero credibility. So he demands sex from them.”
“Where?”
“Could have been a lot of places. I’ve seen some sick stuff over the years when it comes to abuse. The point is, these were troubled teens, and that’s why he picked them. A lot of kids like that end up on the streets or on drugs, in jail, you name it. They slip through the cracks, which is why they appeal to predators like Mahoney.”
Callie shuddered. “That’s twisted.”
“I see it all the time with internet predators,” Alex said. “They have a knack for finding victims who are trapped in bad circumstances, and they manipulate them into keeping quiet. You wouldn’t believe how often it happens.”
“But then these two girls crossed paths at some point,” Sean said. “Maybe they compared notes along the way, maybe through AA, and realized they’d been abused by the same man, who’s still sitting in his position of power, probably still doing it. So, they decided to confront him and shake him down for money. We know Jasmine was nearly broke. Maybe she convinced Samantha to help her, and together they confronted Mahoney. When threatened with exposure, the man snapped and killed them. First Samantha. And then Jasmine.”
“What about the drugs in Samantha’s car?”
“Like we said at the beginning, that could be a plant to throw off investigators.”
“I think you have a long way to go to prove all that,” Alex said.
“We’ll get there,” Sean said. “Wait until we get a warrant for the judge’s phone and computer, and we can start connecting all these dots. I’ll bet he has a pair of shoes with a herringbone tread pattern and an empty sheath from that hunting knife we recovered. We need to search his home, his car, his office.”
Alex didn’t look convinced as she packed up her laptop. “I’ve got to get back to Delphi. I’ll let you know when I dig up more, but I figured you guys would want to know about this.”
Sean got to his feet. “Thanks for coming in.”
“I’ll be in touch.” She walked out.
Sean turned to Callie. “I knew this was going to happen today. I fucking knew it when I got up this morning.”
“Sean.”
“What?”
“Nothing’s happened yet. And this isn’t enough for a warrant.”
“Are you kidding? I bet we have something by lunchtime.”
Callie stood and put her hands on her hips. “Sean, think. We still don’t have conclusive evidence that Eric Mahoney is our guy.”
“Did you listen to a word Alex said?”
“Yes, I did, as a matter of fact. She said those emails were pulled from two locations, and one of them happens to be the courthouse.”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, and who else has a reason to be in and out of the courthouse? Bradley Mahoney. The lawyer. Who practices law in Burr County, among other places, and also happens to be the judge’s nephew. Who’s to say that guy didn’t sit down at some clerk’s computer to check his email? Or duck into his uncle’s office to use his computer? Or, for that matter, it could be anybody. Right now we have no way of knowing exactly who was actually sitting at that computer terminal logging on to the Gmail account that’s receiving extortion messages from JMJFlowergirl.”
“I can’t believe you’re dragging your feet on this. Don’t you want to arrest this scumbag? He’s probably still operating this whole scheme.”
“Yes, but I want to do it by the book.”
“We are.”
Callie crossed her arms. “Is it or is it not possible that some other person besides the judge could have logged on to an email account from a computer at the courthouse?”
“Sure, it’s possible.”
“So, until we know for sure that Eric Mahoney is our killer, I don’t think this is enough. And I think we need to tell that to Rachel. She’s not even aware that one of the suspects we’ve looked at is an attorney who is in and out of that same courthouse.”
Sean stared at Callie. He couldn’t believe she was putting up this much resistance.
“At the very least,” she said, “we need to get corroboration from another source, such as the DNA on that drinking glass that Brooke is testing.”
“Brooke is not testing anything. Her lab is. And I don’t want her involved in this.”
“She’s already involved. And we’d be a lot better off if we have those results back so we know for certain we’re right before we rush out and execute a warrant in the office of a sitting judge. This is a sensitive case, Sean. It could be a career wrecker if we botch this up. Why do you think Brooke went to all that trouble to get us that drinking glass?”
Sean ran his hand through his hair. “God damn it.”
“I don’t care if you think I’m being a pain in the ass. You’re going to thank me if it turns out that DNA doesn’t match and we’re targeting the wrong guy.”
Ric poked his head into the conference room. “Rachel’s all over it. She said she’ll have something for use within two hours.”
He left, and Sean looked at Callie and said, “Go to Delphi and track down those DNA results.”
“And where are you going?”
“To the courthouse to sit on this judge.”
Sean swung by his desk to grab his jacket and was rushing out the door when Marjorie flagged him down.
“Sean, don’t go anywhere.”
He glanced at his watch.
“There’s someone here to see you,” the receptionist said. “Farrah Saunders? She says it’s urgent.”
Sean switched directions and headed for the lobby. “Where is she?”
“I put them in conference room A.”
“Them?”
“She’s got someone with her.”
Sean crossed the bull pen to the conference room, where Farrah stood outside the door. She wore a black pantsuit and had her hair in a messy bun, and Sean could tell by the look on her face that she was in crisis.
“What’s going on?”
“I have a question for you.” She gazed at him and swallowed nervously. “Is Eric Mahoney the target of your investigation?”
Sean glanced at the closed door. “I can’t discuss an ongoing—”
“Sean, please. I need you to be straight with me here. Is the judge a suspect?”
Sean paused for a moment. “Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Farrah, whatever you’ve got for me, I need it now. I’m on my way to execute a search warrant.”
She nodded. “I’ve got someone you need to talk to.”
“Who is it?”
“Let me introduce you, and you can hear what she has to say.”