Chapter 20 - A little discrete investigation

Adam Ross was a man on a mission.

He jiggled nervously as the doors swooshed open, a gentle ding announcing his arrival on the 35th floor. He poked his head out and looked both ways. All was quiet as it should be at six-thirty on a Friday morning unless there was a big case on. He pushed his neck out a little further. The light was off in Mac's office. The corridor was empty. There was no one there. Gripping his messenger bag tightly, he tumbled out of the elevator and took a few tentative steps and then with a determined look he set off to his lair.

He pushed open the doors and flicked the main lights on in the AV lab. He surveyed his domain. He looked around in pride at the banks of monitors and keyboards. Then he narrowed his eyes as he searched for clues. He had left his favourite wheelie chair pushed tight up against the desk in front of Adelaide. Ah ah! Now it sat two inches away and slightly to the right. Stepping a little closer he could see that Betsy's mouse was no longer aligned with the keyboard but sat at a slight angle. Suspicious, he dropped his bag and crossed over to the printer. He looked around as though expecting to see someone and then bobbing down he counted the stack of sheets of paper in the tray. Twenty-seven. Ha! There were twenty-three sheets missing since last night.

Someone had definitely been in his lab!

Adam punched the air. He had been right. Someone was the using the lab after hours and had been, he suspected, for the last three or four nights. He scooped up his bag and crossed over to Betsy. Fishing out a pair of gloves he pulled them on with all the finesse of a surgeon preparing to operate. He hit the button to switch on the monitor and then carefully moved the mouse towards him away from the keyboard. He studied it for a moment and then pulled a brush and a small pot from his bag. He carefully dusted the mouse button before extracting a clear two inch square of film. Pulling back the protective covering he placed the sticky plastic on the mouse and lifted a print. He closed it up and held it up to the light.

"Gotcha!"

He pulled the mobile AFIS module that he had 'borrowed' from storage and placed the print on the screen. He punched the button, laid the device on the desk and waited. Betsy's screen burst into life. Quickly his fingers skimmed over the keyboard.

"So baby..." he purred. "...what's our little midnight visitor been looking for?"

Several windows opened. He skimmed through the temporary internet files first. It had been wiped clean. No activity since nine thirty-eight the previous evening when he had logged off. He checked disk usage which indicated that there had indeed been a lot of use since then.

"So you think you can hide from me huh?" He was about to check the down-loaded files and the system cache when the AFIS module bleeped. "Okay let's see who you are?" He had rather suspected Lionel from Trace but Adam's eyes went wide when he saw the result. He blinked but the same name flashed up at him accusingly.

Mac Taylor.

"What the ..?" Adam frowned. The boss was supposed to be on sick leave till Monday but even so he'd still been in a few times to sign paperwork and review their current cases though Jo had shooed him home each time if he tried to stay for more than a couple of hours. So what was he doing sneaking back into the lab after hours and running sophisticated searches?

Adam knew that nothing was ever really deleted. Curiosity got the better of him and guiltily he set about restoring the data. A little over an hour and a half later Adam sat with two dozen sheets of paper scattered on the table in front of him and a dazed expression on his face. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear Jo come in.

"Hey Adam, you're in early."

Adam shot out of his skin. "Oh hey Jo .. yeah … I … er … I ..." He looked back at the last sheet of paper in his hand, indecision written all over his face.

Jo tipped her head to one side, concern furrowing her brow. "Adam, is everything okay?"

Adam stood up jiggling nervously from one foot to the other. "Yeah … well no … I mean ..." He paused as he took a deep breath. "Look I wasn't … spying on him or anything. Really. I just noticed that someone had been in my lab … I mean .. the lab … after hours using … my … the computers. Not that I mind necessarily ..." He looked at Jo who was looking confused. "All right I do mind someone using my computers. They're very sensitive and I ... so the thing is … I came in early to check who it was and ..." He paused, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

Jo looked at Adam and then at the fingerprint dusting kit lying on the desk next to the mouse. "You dusted the computer for prints?" she asked incredulous. Adam looked like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Suddenly her face broke into a huge grin and the tiny room was filled with tinkling laughter. "Oh Adam!"

Adam rolled his eyes. "Yeah I know but … the thing is you see is ..." He broke off suddenly not sure what to do. Should he tell? Should he rat on his boss? He looked down at the paper in his hand and lifted his eyes to Jo's looking at her under his long lashes. "You won't get mad, will you?" he asked shyly.

"Mad?" Jo gawked. "Why would I get …." She narrowed her eyes. A niggling suspicion crept into her mind. Her eyes took in all the computer screens and the results of the searches that Adam had recovered displayed there for all to see. They widened as they recognized a photograph of a younger-looking Victor Gaunt. "Adam! Please tell me he hasn't ... " Adam flushed a bright red and looked guilty. Jo let out a short bark of frustration and threw her hands in the air setting her jewellery jingling like warning bells. Adam flinched slightly just in case she got mad and took it out on him. Her in-take of breath was audible and she continued in a tightly-controlled even tone. "What has he been doing?"

"Er … he's been checking out tattoos and … er … boxing clubs and … er … flight schedules." Adam looked nervously down at the paper in his hands. Before he could say anything else the paper was snatched away.

" What the ..." Jo stared at the paper. She looked up at Adam. "I'm going to kill him," she declared and with that she turned on her heel and stormed out of the lab leaving a bemused looking Adam standing forlornly among his girls. He sighed. Mac was so screwed.

.

A large woman in a brightly coloured floral dress pushed her way down the aisle forcing Amy to squeeze up against the man she was helping, not that she was complaining. He was wearing a rather seductive cologne and he had a lovely smile. Besides she had a soft spot for men who looked like they needed a little TLC. She could help noticing a half-healed scar along his right cheek, scars on wrists and hands and a dark blue bandage that poked out from under the left sleeve of his black tee-shirt. The woman in the floral dress waddled her way down the aisle allowing them to step back. Amy waited as he pulled a tablet computer from the bag then she helped him lift the bag into the overhead locker and she took the opportunity to breath in a little more of that delicious spicy cologne. He gave her another shy smile which she gladly returned. He peered at his boarding card. "I'm afraid you have the middle seat," she commented apologetically. Mac nodded already resigned to that fact as he had made a late booking but at least it was against the bulkhead which meant there was no one in front of him. Amy smiled at him and turned away to help a mother with an over-excited toddler. Mac scooted across and seated himself hoping that he wouldn't be surrounded by screaming babies.

He had left the tablet in standby so he pressed the on button ready to close it down for take-off. As the screen flickered to life he stared down at the men in the picture. A boxing ring stood in the background and the half dozen or so men were gathered in a traditional pose, two holding up a trophy and the others either positioned to the side with their gloved hands raised in a fighting stance or kneeling in front holding the club's banner. Mac's face was grim as he focussed on two of the men. One was young Victor Gaunt positioned to the right of the group his face drawn into a snarl and the other kneeling in front of him with a similar expression of arrogant triumph, his cousin Ryan. A shadow fell across the screen causing Mac to glance up. He did a double take. His eyes widened and his lips opened in surprise. The woman preparing to seat herself to his left glared at him icily. She stowed her bag in the overhead locker, placed her purse on the floor against the bulkhead and slid elegantly into the seat next him. Mac opened his mouth to speak but before he could say anything the three seats rocked as someone threw themselves heavily into the right-hand seat.

"Do you suppose they serve food on this flight?"

Mac's head spun 180 degrees faster than it should causing a sharp stinging pain to ripple down his neck to his shoulder. The astonishment on his face was plain to see.

"Oh Don, is that all you ever think of? You've only just had coffee and doughnuts." Jo admonished with a wave of her bejewelled hand.

"Oh come on that was ages ago." Don moaned. "Besides you know I have a very active metabolism. Maybe I could ask the flight attendant" As though hearing him Amy made a reappearance ignoring him but smiling sweetly at Mac and asking him in a quiet almost seductive voice if there was anything he needed. Don raised an eyebrow. Mac was about to answer when he felt a hand on his leg. Not a tap to catch his attention, not a friendly pat of reassurance, not a caress of affection but a more intimate gesture. It was a hand that burned through the material of his jeans to the skin of his thigh. It was a hand that communicated just one word. Mine.

"Oh no thank you. We're just fine aren't we … dear?" Jo returned the younger woman's smile which faded a little, her disappointment obvious. She nodded politely, favoured Don with a smile and moved back up the plane. Don didn't bother to hide his amused grin at the look on Mac's face. He had to hand it to Jo. She was magnificent.

Don made a show of fastening his seat belt before leaning back, folding his arms and turned to his two companions. His face took on a confused look but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "So tell me again ..." Jo turned to look across at him. "... why exactly are we going to Mississippi?"

"That, my dear Don, is a very good question."

Mac could feel her eyes boring into him. The hand didn't move. He closed him eyes and sighed. He was so screwed.

.

More tomorrow!