Home of Nancy Winter

Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY

Tuesday, May 20

Cars were parked solidly along the block of Robert Winter's home, on both sides of the street. Alex had to go around the corner to find a space. As they walked back, they studied the neighborhood. Although houses and yards generally looked well-kept, this wasn't a super-expensive, luxury area. The Winters' house could use a fresh coat of paint.

Bobby touched her arm and pointed to the three cars in the driveway. "There's Ron's Lexus," he said. "The minivan ahead of it is probably Frannie's."

"The Taurus must be Mom's and Dad's," Alex added. "Looks old. That shade of maroon was popular in the nineties, wasn't it?"

Bobby nodded. "They live modestly here. What's the profit margin in grocery retail?"

"Small businesses net around twenty-five percent if they're lucky," Alex said. "But Winter had to be pouring money into the new store, with no return yet."

"Ron's living large," Bobby said. They'd reached the driveway, and he stooped to peer into Ron's sedan. "The car's been detailed recently. He's got a GPS system, leather seats, leather-covered steering wheel, wood paneling, satellite radio."

Alex looked, too, bracing herself on Bobby's arm as she leaned in. "What about a pine tree air freshener?"

"Doesn't need one." He turned to smile at her. "It probably still has the new-car smell."

She smiled back, and was disappointed when Bobby blinked and stepped away.

He straightened his tie, then moved up the driveway and peeked into the minivan. "Two booster seats... sippy cups, travel mug... sweatshirt, children's shoes... a box of Nilla Wafers..."

"Let me guess - crumbs and raisins on the floor. Yep, it's Frannie's car." Alex didn't approach Bobby again. Whatever was going on in his head, she'd wait till he was ready to share.

She noticed movement at the house, and she forced her attention away from her partner. A man stood inside, watching them. His arms were crossed on his chest.

Alex showed her shield as she approached the door. The man's expression lightened when he realized they were cops. He came outside and let the glass storm door close behind him. The heard the low sound of many voices inside. Alex guessed that most of the cars parked on the street belonged to visitors for the Winters.

"Is there a problem with the cars?" the man asked. He looked something like Ron, but trimmer and not as gray - a younger, better-looking version.

"No problem, sir," Alex said. She introduced herself and her partner. "We're investigating the death of Robert Winter."

"Oh. I'm Mark Winter, his son." He reached out to shake her hand, and held on a little longer than necessary. Alex noticed that he didn't offer his hand to Bobby, or even look at him after a brief glance. His eyes took her in head-to-foot a couple times.

Alex said, "We called Mrs. Winter last night – she should be expecting us."

"Ah... that may not be a good idea," Mark said. He took a step away from the door, closer to Alex. "People have been coming by all morning, you know, with condolences, with food..."

As if to prove his point, a woman walked up the driveway behind them. She was carrying an oval-shaped casserole dish in a fitted wicker basket. The glass cover was steamed over. The detectives stood aside to let her by, and Alex caught an enticing hint of pot roast. The woman spoke a few words to Mark, who held the door for her to enter.

"Mr. Winter," Alex said, "your mother agreed to see us today. We only need a few minutes of her time."

He smiled at her, but didn't make a move to let them inside. "Maybe you could talk to me?"

Alex was annoyed, and she could tell Bobby was, too. Was this guy really trying to come on to her? Here was another son who didn't seem to care that his father had been killed.

Fortunately they were interrupted by the appearance of Frannie. She immediately opened the door to welcome the detectives inside. "Thanks for coming - is there any news?" she asked.

Alex liked her eagerness. "Unfortunately, not yet."

"Is this a good time to talk to your mom?" Bobby asked. He held Alex's elbow, urging her forward. They both stepped right past Mark and into the house.

"It's fine. In fact," Frannie said, speaking quietly, "she could use a break. People mean well, I know, but honestly, if another fruit basket is delivered... That reminds me." She turned back to her brother, who'd followed them. "Mark, can you move some of the casseroles to the freezer in the basement?"

Alex slipped her shield into her pocket, and she saw Bobby pulling his off his lapel – no need to announce to all the guests that the police had arrived.

The house was full of people, talking in clusters. Across the room they saw Ron with some men; he acknowledged them but made no other move. Frannie led them into the living room, right up to the couch, where three older ladies were seated. She knelt by the one in the middle and whispered to her. The woman immediately looked up at the detectives and nodded. As she rose, Frannie held one arm and Bobby took the other to assist her up.

Frannie quietly introduced them to her mother and then said, "Why don't you sit outside on the deck? The kids are out there, but I'll keep them out of your way."

"That'll be fine, sweetheart," Mrs. Winter said, and began to weave her way through the crowd. Alex noticed that Mark was still gawking at her, and felt another surge of annoyance – this was the wrong time and place for that kind of attention. She ignored him.

They went out through a sliding glass door onto a wooden deck. The lawn furniture looked several seasons old. A teenage boy was stretched out on a fully reclined chaise longue, holding what looked like an iPod on his chest, with thin cords running to each ear.

In the small, neat yard a younger girl and boy were running back and forth, but when they saw the adults they climbed up on the outside of the deck railing to stare at them.

Frannie pointed to the children. "This is Emily, and this is Bobby. Rick is Ron's son. Come inside, you guys. Grandma needs to talk to these people, and you can help me choose pictures of Grandpa for the DVD."

The kids jumped back down to the grass and came around to the steps. Bobby squatted down and smiled at the little boy, who looked four or five. "Hi. My name's Bobby, too."

Little Bobby gazed at him somberly. "My Grandpa's name was Bob, too. He died – he's in heaven now."

"I know," Bobby said. "I'm sorry you lost your grandpa."

"We didn't go to school today," the boy added.

"Let's go, kids," Frannie said. "We have a lot of pictures to look at."

"Mommy?" Emily said. She looked a couple years older than her brother. "Can we see pictures of you when you were a little girl?"

"Of course," Frannie said, reaching for her hand. "And wait till you see the funny clothes I wore!" She beckoned to the older boy as he pulled out his ear buds. "Rick, you come with us, okay?"

The teenager stretched and slowly sat up, revealing a large, fresh, purplish bruise on his cheek.

"Wow!" Bobby said with a smile. "That's a real shiner, Rick! How'd it happen?"

"Baseball scrimmage yesterday," he replied, looking proud. "I was sliding into third, and the ball hit my face instead of the glove."

"Oooh!" Bobby said. "But you were safe."

"Yeah," Rick said, "and I got an RBI. But Coach was afraid I had a concussion or something, and he made me go home early."

Mrs. Winter winced. "Ricky, hon, he had to - you could have been badly hurt!"

"I know, Grandma, but I'm okay. Really."

"Does it hurt?" the little boy asked.

"I'm wondering the same thing," Alex said.

Rick touched the bruise gingerly. "It's not bad."

Frannie ushered the kids inside. Mrs. Winter and Alex sat in chairs and Bobby dragged Rick's chaise longue over and perched on the end of it.

"We're so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Winter," Alex said. "Thank you for agreeing to see us."

"Well, I can't promise I won't break down on you," she said, reaching out to grip Alex's hand. "One minute I can't stop crying, and the next I'm swapping recipes." She took a deep breath. "Frannie told me a little last night – what happened? Can you tell me?"

It was clear where Frannie got her frankness.

Bobby replied, "It looks like someone came in while the alarm system and cameras were off – this person was probably expecting the store to be empty, and your husband surprised him."

Mrs. Winter covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Bob."

"We saw on his cell phone that he called home yesterday evening," Alex said. "He spoke to you?"

"That's right; he said Frannie and the children had just left, and he thought he'd stay another half hour or so."

"Was he alone?"

"Yes."

"And it's normal for him to walk home?" Alex asked.

"Yes," she replied. "It stays light till later now, and the weather's been good. I told him this was probably the only exercise he'd get..."

Bobby leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Has he had any problems or arguments with anyone?"

Mrs. Winter huffed. "Problems? From the moment we started planning for a second store, we had nothing but problems! Delays, real estate agents, cost increases, lawyers, contractors... you name it." She held up her hand as Bobby opened his mouth to speak. "But I know what you meant, Detective. No, I don't know of anything like that."

Bobby smiled. "Your daughter told us that everyone liked him."

Mrs. Winter's eyes teared up. Alex saw Bobby reaching into his pocket, but Mrs. Winter had her own handkerchief ready. They gave her time to get her voice under control. She finally said, "People liked Bob because he liked them. He loved the grocery business - that's why he was so good at it."

Alex said, "Frannie mentioned a competitor: Ben Beldsen. Do you know of any hostility between him and your husband?"

"Oh, him," Mrs. Winter said with a frown. "Why he made all that trouble over the property, I have no idea. I was so glad when it was over. You know, he actually worked for us when he was younger."

Alex and Bobby shared a glance. "Really. How long ago was that?" Alex asked.

"It's probably at least fifteen years, maybe more – he was in college, I think. He's about Mark's age. But anyway, Bob hasn't had contact with him for months, since the law suit was dropped."

Alex said, "Ron came here last night when he got the news. Were you home alone?"

"I was out doing errands most of the day, but yes, I was getting supper ready when..." She choked again, and once again dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. "Ron got here first; Frannie came later, and then John Lasalle, too – he's been a great help at both stores."

Bobby waved his hand. "Is this the home where you raised your family?"

"No, we moved here from Woodside... umm, it'll be five years in September. I wanted to be closer to Frannie, to help her with the children. That was when Bob got the idea for this store. We hadn't told her yet, but we intended it to be for Frannie once her children were older. And then we were going to retire – or at least only work part-time."

"Your son, Ron," Bobby said. "He would get the store in Queens?"

Mrs. Winter nodded. "Yes, Bob's been giving him more and more of the responsibility there."

"One store for Ron," Alex said, "and one for Frannie. What about Mark?"

"Mark didn't like the grocery business. And," Mrs. Winter said on a sigh, "he married a girl from Florida." Her expression indicated that there'd been some family tension about that. "Bob helped set him up in the carpet cleaning business in Tampa."

"Is Mark's wife here?" Bobby asked. Alex bet the answer would be no, considering Mark had come on to her pretty strongly.

"They're divorced," Mrs. Winter said, shaking her head. "My granddaughter, Kelly, lives with her mother. They're flying up from Florida tomorrow. Kelly's one year younger than Ricky."

They all turned at a knock on the glass door. Mark slid it open and said, "The Mayor's office called – he'll be here by one o'clock."

"Okay, dear," Mrs. Winter said. She turned to the detectives. "The Mayor and Bob's older brother, Howard, were friends in school. I've known him since our wedding."

Alex said, "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Winter. We'll be in touch." As she rose, she saw that Mark hadn't moved from the doorway. He was staring at her. This was becoming ridiculous.

Alex was relieved at the interruption of little Emily, who bumped past Mark, bearing a photograph of herself as a toddler in her grandfather's arms. "Look, Grandma!"

Safety Shield Headquarters

Woodhaven, Queens, NY

Tuesday, May 20

Most of the people in the bustling office wore the grey and black uniform of Safety Shield. The tall black man who approached them wore a business suit. He didn't have the look of an ex-cop; Alex had already picked out several in the office who did.

"How do you do? Alonzo Matthews," he said. He held out his hand to Alex first, then to Bobby. "I'm the site director, and I've been working with the Winter Market team since they started having these problems." He gestured toward the back of the area. "Come right this way – I've arranged for you to meet with the key leaders on the Winter Market team."

"Mr. Matthews, we need to interview everyone who has access to Winter Market's system," Alex said. "Not just key leaders."

"Yes, that's been arranged as well," Matthews said. "If you'll follow me..."

They'd only gone a few steps when Bobby slowed, veered off the aisle and headed toward a bank of video screens. He usually turned up valuable information when he stopped to chat like that, so Alex smiled to herself and kept following Matthews.

They reached the room, and Matthews faltered when he realized he'd lost a detective.

"He really shouldn't be over there," Matthews said. "We have to protect our customers' privacy." He made a half-hearted move toward Bobby, who was already in an animated conversation with a young woman seated at the monitors.

Alex stepped into Matthews' way and said, "Oh, don't mind my partner. He likes to think he knows about technology." She peeked into the meeting room – only a man and a woman were seated at the table. She said, "Where's the rest of the team? It's not just two people?"

"Um, yes..." Matthews was still staring unhappily at Bobby. "I mean, no. Our technician is running late, and the lead engineer had a conflicting meeting."

"Yeah, well, we need to meet everyone," she said. "Are they here in the building?"

"I – I think he is – they are, I mean." Matthews was clearly off-balance.

Alex glanced over at Bobby just as he looked up at her, eyes bright. She saw his lips move – he was saying, "Eames". She had to smile at his eagerness, and at his desire to include her in his discovery. She wanted to be included.

She turned back to Matthews. "How about you get the rest of your team, and I'll get Detective Goren?" She didn't wait for a reply.

As Alex approached, Bobby stretched his hand toward her, urging her along. The young woman was looking up at him with an indulgent smile – obviously he'd been pouring on the charm.

"Eames, you need to see this," Bobby said, and lightly tapped one of the extra-wide screens. "Jeanne, can you show my partner the one with the lock controls?" As Jeanne clicked through the program interface he watched closely. "Jeanne works on Winter Market's, uh - here, this one - support team. See, every door in the store has a lock control – right?"

Jeanne nodded. "Yes, we installed individual electronic controls on all exterior doors."

"And the safe, too," Bobby added.

"Right," Jeanne said. "This interface controls locks, cameras, temperature, lights, etcetera."

"Can you tell if commands are coming from here or from the store?" Alex asked. A glance at Bobby told her he'd also asked this question.

"Oh, sure," Jeanne said. She brought up a screen full of text and numbers, and smiled over her shoulder at Bobby. "This is what I was telling you. The activity log shows the date and time, plus a unique code – we call it a tag - for commands issued from right here in the Safety Shield office, or from the control panel inside the store, or from the remote installation."

"What's the remote installation?" Alex asked.

"It's the customer's own personal computer," Jeanne replied. "The software they get is a modified version of what you see here – it's mainly intended for monitoring. We installed Safety Shield customer software on a laptop computer for Mr. Winter's home. It operates over the internet."

"That doesn't sound too secure," Alex said. They'd need to get that laptop examined; they might need a search warrant. She picked up a business card from a little tray on Jeanne's desk – good, it showed a fax number.

"Oh, it is - the commands are encrypted, and you need a password to run the software," Jeanne said. "The thing is, when we looked at the activity log for the recent unlock incidents, there was no tag at all."

"How does that happen?" Bobby asked.

"We're trying to figure it out," Jeanne said with a shrug.

Alex shared a look with her partner. "So that means someone hacked Safety Shield's system," she said.

Jeanne bristled a bit. "Not necessarily," she said. "It could be a corrupted file in the remote installation, or possibly a hard-wire problem at their store."

"You know, Jeanne," Bobby said, "I saw a commercial on TV about a security system that lets you control it from a cell phone. Does Safety Shield have that?"

"Not yet," Jeanne replied, "but smart phone technology is part of our next major upgrade; it should be rolled out third quarter, if the developers stay on schedule. I heard they were in beta."

Bobby leaned closer with a question about the alarm, and Jeanne happily turned her full attention to him. Alex pulled out her phone and dialed Captain Ross. She asked about getting access to the Winters' laptop and gave him Jeanne's fax number in case a search warrant was ready in time.

She saw that Alonzo Matthews had reappeared at the conference room door – he looked determined this time.

"Goren, it's time for us to..." Alex said, snapping her phone closed. She waved at Matthews and took a step in his direction.

"Thanks for your help, Jeanne," Bobby said. "Oh, and if a fax comes in for us..." He pointed to the machine on the corner of her desk. "Is that okay?" Alex wasn't surprised that he'd paid attention to her phone conversation while talking to Jeanne.

"Sure, no problem," Jeanne replied with a big smile for him.

Mid-way across the room, Alex whispered, "That was fun for you."

"Hmm?" Bobby's attempt at an innocent expression brought a quick snort of laughter from Alex. She reined in her amusement as they entered the meeting room.

Matthews made the introductions, and then began a detailed history of his company's work at the new Winter Market site. He obviously wanted to deflect all culpability for the events leading up to Robert Winter's murder.

Alex didn't blame Matthews for trying to protect his company, but he was starting to drone. She wasn't about to waste two hours in this little room. Fortunately her partner felt the same way.

"I was wondering..." Bobby said, abruptly interrupting Matthews. He rose from his seat at the table. "...about the tag code that tells you where a command was issued." The others stared at him dazedly as he balanced his open binder on one hand, grabbed a marker and began writing on the whiteboard. He listed the dates of the six system shutdowns. "How is it that those commands had no tag?" Bobby asked. "Have you been able to reproduce that error?"

Matthews cleared his throat and replied, "No, although we're still-"

"No? Well," Bobby said, "what about the fact that the alarm went off five minutes or ten minutes..." He added the delay time to each line on the whiteboard. "...or thirty minutes after the shutdown? Is that normal?"

The IT guy shook his head. "No, in fact, there's no reason the alarm should go off at all for a lock or unlock command."

Alex tapped her pen lightly on the table. "Have you checked the Winters' laptop computer to see if the shutdown commands could have come from there?"

Matthews answered, "Yes, we tested it and also the in-store control panel after the first two events: both worked normally. If the laptop or the in-store panel had been used, the commands would have been logged with the tag."

"Any signs of tampering?" Alex asked.

"I ran the tests myself," the IT guy said. "There was no tampering. Just to be safe, I re-installed the laptop. Honestly, all of this has been completely out of the normal range of errors – it's hard to know where else to look."

The engineer who'd done the hardware installation spoke up. "It's pretty much the same with the physical setup in the store. We replaced whole sections of the wiring, but..." He turned up his palms. "The shutdowns still occurred."

"So..." Bobby said, placing his hands on the table and looking from one to the other. "The chances that this is accidental..."

"Slim to none," said the IT guy.

Alex shared a look with her partner. They were piling up the questions for this case, but not finding answers.