A/N: New chapter and the chase for the bad guy begins! We'd love to hear from readers!
A Return to Vegas
Chapter 9
Another hour passed before everyone arrived, talked a lot, and found a place at the table; ended up with nine retired officers sitting around the conference table because a couple of men knew how to get in contact with others. Finally, Maxine got them quiet and everyone looking in her direction.
She was quick to introduce everyone—Sara was impressed because none of the men had worked with Maxine yet she knew their names, rank and retirement dates. She'd brought Joe and Susan back in case there were questions. She started with the bodies found at Lake Mead and the bullets matched the ballistics of a gun used by Jim Brass.
One of the older men waved his hand.
"Yes, Jake."
"We've heard about this part—what have you learned since then? It's some kind of computer hack, right?"
"Oh!" Maxine was surprised and asked, "Have you all talked to each other?"
Heads nodded with one saying, "We talk to each other—or one talks to another who tells another. We're old—we actually talk."
There were several quiet chuckles.
"Okay," Maxine said with a smile. "Tell me where to start."
For a few minutes, everyone talked until they settled on a general point. One said, "We don't know much about computer hacking and how this isn't real guns."
Maxine gave a nod to Joe who took over. He said, "A malicious virus has gotten into ballistic files. Not all, but a high number are corrupted to bring up a computer generated ballistic fingerprint that is traced back to a weapon fired by a law enforcement officer—that's you guys. All retired.
"Quickly, we realized this was a virus and it is self-generating. That means once it was placed in the files, it keeps on doing what it does."
When he paused, Maxine said, "We are trying to find this hacker—and called Sara and Gil in to help." She paused for a moment before saying, "We want to solve this in-house and if you can help us—we think there has to be a connection other than all of you were active during the same time because all of your names have come up. Maybe a habitual criminal most of you arrested at some point—something that would point us in a direction to find this guy."
Allie interjected, "Or girl—woman—a hacker isn't always male."
There was a murmuring around the table as the men talked; several mentioned specific individuals that brought comments of "He died two years ago," or "I never worked that case," or "He found Jesus and came around apologizing for what he'd done."
Finally, Brass pointed out, "None of us have worked for five-six years and all these old guys—like us—I can't see any of them being smart enough to hack into a pawn shop much less do some kind of fancy computer hacking."
With an audible sign, Grissom said, "This is jumping into the ocean—what about families? Could it be a child of one of these criminals? One who would know most of you? Or be familiar with your names?"
Another chorus of mutters and murmurs rounded the table as the men thought of other possibilities.
Someone brought in coffee pots and a tray of sweet treats which interrupted the discussions for a few minutes. There was much teasing as the former cops complained there were no donuts, only cookies and small cakes and a few healthy looking nut bars.
Ray Davidson, who had brought in his old gun earlier in the day, held up one of the cookies, laughing, and said, "My housekeeper makes the best cookies—some kind of oatmeal healthy recipe—Jim, does she bring you cookies?"
"Oh, yeah!" Jim laughed, saying, "She says she wants us to live a long time because we pay her so well."
Across the room, another man said, "Brenda always brings cookies to me!"
Sara picked up on the shared housekeeper. She said, "Who else does Brenda work for?"
Jim answered, "She works part-time now—only four days a week." Thoughtfully, he looked around the room, tapped on the table to get everyone's attention, and asked, "Who else has Brenda worked for—the housekeeper? She's been coming to my house for—for twenty years." Dawning on him where this was going, he turned to Sara and said, "Brenda doesn't have kids and isn't on social media doing stuff—I'd bet my pension she's not involved."
With that comment, the others agreed and went back to talking, settled back around the table and returned to discussing criminals and cases they might have in common. An hour passed before the conversations dwindled to confusion and puzzlement, going nowhere.
Maxine thanked everyone for coming, pointing to a stack of notes she had taken, saying she knew there was a clue in the information they had provided. "It's not obvious right now," she said, trying to make order out of all of the chaos.
As the men made for the exit, Dave Spencer held back and beckoned Sara. In a whisper, he said, "I've been thinking about Brenda—the housekeeper. Brass is right—she doesn't have kids but her sister—Wanda—works for us. She has for years—and she has a son. Like Brenda, she's a good person but I don't know much about him. She thinks he's whip smart—works at one of the casinos—she has worked as a housekeeper for years and for several of these guys. Still does from what I know." He paused a moment, adding, "It probably wouldn't hurt to look at her son—on the quiet—just to check him out."
He told Sara his name and the casino where he worked.
A few minutes later, Sara relayed her conversation with Dave Spencer to the others. She suggested, "Maybe we could put some eyes on him—I'd like to check him out." Looking at Grissom, she said, "Just to look!"
Another discussion ensued around the likelihood of a housekeeper's son holding a grudge. Maxine was skeptical until Grissom mentioned a previous case. Quietly, he said, "Natalie Davis was never on our radar."
A quick check of records found nothing but a few traffic citations on the guy named Alan Caldwell. Maxine gave a nod, approving a physical check of the man.
"Just look," she cautioned.
Grissom and Allie decided to spend time going over what had been said during the meeting and wait at the lab for their return. He said, "Two of you going in quietly should not cause any concern—and don't do anything without backup." He looked at Sara.
She gave him a broad smile and said, "We're just doing a walk by—he won't know we're around." A few minutes later she and Chris were driving toward the Golden Nugget.
Chris said, "His boss says he's clocked in—part of his job is watching out for the showgirls when they do 'street walk'—what does that mean?"
"Casinos use the showgirls to attract customers—put them near the front doors wearing all those decorative outfits—and I think the Nugget has them walk Fremont Street several times a day."
Traffic was heavy and parking a nightmare; Chris finally pulled the vehicle into a parking garage where the attendant waved them to a 'no parking' area after Chris showed his ID. It was a hike to the casino floor where the manager met them with a puzzle.
He said, "Alan clocked in at noon. His usual time—he's around but we can't seem to find him."
Chris went with the manager to the camera room; Sara decided she'd walk the street still amazed at the brilliance and lights of the overhead display and the crowd—and it was hours before the street show started. Showgirls dressed in feathery headdresses and glittery outfits waved and welcomed people into casinos.
Sara smiled, shaking her head, as she thought that some things never change—just got more flashy and gaudy as time passed. She was almost to the end of the street when her phone chirped with a message from Chris.
Alan Caldwell could not be found on any of the cameras. She texted she'd meet him at the car; the guy would show up eventually.
As she turned to retrace her steps, her phone buzzed again with a message from Grissom.
She read: "Dave and Lena Spencer have been shot in their house. Jim calling."
Stopping to reply, Sara sent a message: "We'll be back at the lab in a few."
She headed toward the parking garage. Several minutes later, her phone rang—Maxine—and pressing the phone to her ear, she listened for a minute and then she began to run.
A/N: More to come! Now, take a minute to leave a message-are you getting chapter notices from Fanfiction? Thanks!