Chapter Four
Back at the old library, Charlie stood behind the chair where Harold sat, his eyes fixated on the screen. The image of a man, woman, and child bound in rope made Charlie shudder. He put his hand on his forehead, soaking it all in. "The only thing I can tell from the picture is that they're in an outdoor shed. We're looking for a place with one, probably in the back yard," Charlie said, averting his eyes.
"There are over a thousand landline phones in the area. And that's just in a five block radius. There are much more in the entire city. Most businesses still use one in every office," Harold told him.
Charlie groaned a sigh. John paced back and forth down the hallway of books. "Can I see the signal encryption?" asked Charlie.
Harold's fingers danced across the keyboard. The numbers and codes filled the screens. Harold stood. "I'll see what I can find while you work on that."
Charlie sat in front of the computer screens, watching them intently. As Harold walked down the hall, he told John, "I'm going to ask Detective Fusco to see if HR knows anything about this. You should call Carter."
"You just read my mind," John whispered.
The mathematician took a loose-leaf paper off the desk and started writing formulas and equations on it. John watched him as he called Detective Carter. "Don't tell me you were involved in the shooting half an hour ago," she answered, "and the one at the convention center."
"Alright, I won't tell you," John replied, a slight grin forming on his lips.
Carter sighed into the phone. "I suppose you want the contents of the cab's trunk back?"
"Yes, please. That belongs to a friend."
"What are you doing with Charles Eppes?" she asked with a hint of frustration in her voice.
"Didn't Louis Harnett tell you?"
"John, Louis Harnett's dead."
"What?" he asked.
"I thought you were the one who shot him. Made it look like a suicide."
"I rearranged his kneecap."
"Then who 'rearranged' his face?" Carter wondered.
"Meet me at the diner and bring Eppes' luggage," John said, hanging up.
John strolled over to Charlie. "Come on, let's get some food," John said.
"But I'm—"
John pulled him out of the chair by the arm.
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Detective Lionel Fusco took a seat beside Harold on the park bench. "What's up?" Fusco queried.
"Have you heard anything about an attempt on Professor Charles Eppes' life?" Harold asked in reply.
"There's a lot of buzz about it. I asked HR. Think it's retaliation for something."
"Retaliation for what?" debated Harold.
"Getting caught maybe," Fusco said. "Word is Harnett was a good choice to pin the murder on. Anyone who knew him said he was obsessively jealous of Eppes. Someone could easily use him to take out the guy and make it look like Harnett killed himself. He's got enough family for collateral."
"That's what happened. Harnett told our mutual friend about his son's family being held hostage. But Charles Eppes is still alive."
"Why would Harnett get killed first?" Fusco fixed his eyes on the distance, absorbed in his thoughts. "This case just keeps getting more complicated."
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"If someone's trying to kill him, why did you bring him here?" Carter asked, looking at the curly, dark brown-haired, brown-eyed mathematician sitting across from her.
"I couldn't leave him alone," John explained.
"I don't think Mr. Finch will be pleased when he finds out you tore me away from the encryption," Charlie said to John.
Carter told Charlie, "Agent Don Eppes has been calling the NYPD. Apparently you haven't been answering his calls."
"It's kind of hard to talk to your brother when you're being shot at repeatedly," Charlie stated, gritting his teeth.
"Whoever's holding Harnett's family must have killed him," John speculated.
"Someone has his family?" Carter asked.
John nodded grimly. "If we find who wants Eppes dead, we'll find them."
Charlie picked up his grilled cheese and debated taking a bite. He set the sandwich back on its plate, concluding his stomach was still too queasy to risk it. "You know the police are looking for you?" Carter asked Charlie.
"It doesn't surprise me," the math genius replied.
The detective studied Charlie's face. "You disappeared from the crime scene, and they want to question you. Are you sure you don't want to come down to the police station, answer some questions?"
Charlie shook his head. "I can't. I have to help them find this guy."
"Alright, well, your stuff's in my car," Carter said, and stood.
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When John and Charlie made it back to the library, Charlie set his things on the floor out of the way. Harold was sitting quietly at his desk. John asked Harold, "Any news?"
"Detective Fusco is going to dig a little deeper. He seems to think someone's trying to kill Mr. Eppes for revenge," he updated them.
"The last case I consulted for the FBI, Don arrested the man. He couldn't have killed or kidnapped anyone, he's in jail," Charlie stated.
"That's irrelevant. It could be anyone you've helped put in jail, or even anyone your brother put in jail without your help," Harold explicated.