CDG- Your choice. What's up?
BS- You know you're not the only one researching Peter's past, right?
CDG- I figured as much. What, did you learn something helpful?
BS- Yes, but it's not something I want to release to the press.
CDG- What?
BS- Can you receive a file?
CDG- Yes. Format?
BS- Encrypted document.
CDG- Send it.
I get a file transfer notice and analyze it quickly. I know Jackson's sitting behind me, but he's being quiet, probably still absorbing everything that we've said to each other over the past few minutes. The file transfers quickly, and I give it another scan before dropping it into a virtual box.
CDG- Encrypt code?
BS- My full name.
CDG- English or Japanese?
BS- English. I'll be in touch after you read it. Goodbye.
Andrea Julia DeLaCoeur... the file unlocks, and a document along with a subfolder pulls up, unzipping and opening for me. I read quickly, and realize what Andrea meant. “Oh my God.”
Jackson's next to me in an instant, looking at me closely. “Kat... Katrina? What is it?”
I point, unable to speak. Jackson looks at the window, his lips moving silently as he reads, something he did even as a kid.
Samuel Grammercy, detective lieutenant, New Orleans Police Department. Thirty-eight years old at the time of his death, no suspects ever identified in his death by car bombing.
Michael Ball, forty-eight years old, bartender. Alcohol server's license states that he works in the Miami area.
The pictures aren't great, all taken from public sources, but there's enough there to verify what Andrea's document tells me.
“They're alive,” Jackson says after he finishes clicking through the files. “They... they never were blown up. How?”
“I don't know,” I whisper, finally finding my voice. “But Jackson... I remember. I remember the fire, the boom, I remember it all. How is that possible?”
Jackson shakes his head. “I don't know either,” he says. “Katrina, can you trust this information? Who sent it to you?”
“Someone I can believe,” I reply, not sure why I won't tell Jackson the truth about his half-sister. I just don't think Andrea would want it yet. “But I need to verify this.”
Jackson gives me a look. “Katrina, this changes everything. I'm not saying it makes Peter any less of an animal, or any less of a threat to you. But you've spent nearly half your life vowing revenge for something that may never have happened. And if your father’s in Miami... you're going to need help.”
“Whose?” I ask, shaking my head. “Darcy... but she's got a family now. Virginia's taking care of two new foster kids herself now, she can't help me... I'm alone.”
“No you're not,” Jackson says, kneeling down next to me and taking my hand. “Kat, you've got me. I already told you that I was going to try and deflect Peter off you... now we've got something else to do.”
“You mean it?” I ask, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “It's going to involve money, deception, and lying to Peter. You'd be signing your own death warrant if he finds out.”
Jackson nods, then smirks. “Nathan told me this morning that I need to stand up. Be a man, he said. Maybe this is just my way of doing it.”
I nod, then smile. “I like that. Okay, so we work together on this. But I don't have a lot of details. Miami's a big city, and there are a lot of bars there. All I have is a name for him.”
“Then we find out together,” Jackson says with a smile. “After all, who'd think that Prince Douchebag would actually be trying to do something worthwhile with his time? I mean, besides reading Rich Dad, Poor Dad.”
“Good book. Myopic, but a decent book,” I comment to Jackson's surprise. “You'll find as we spend time together I know more than just martial arts, hacking, and seduction.”
“Okay. So where can I start first?” he asks. “This isn't something I have any experience with, so I'm going to be putting myself in your hands.”
“First... I need to know more. I need verification, and there's only one person who can do that for me that I know of.”
“Who?”
“Nathan Black.”
Jackson shakes his head emphatically at first, but then the shakes slow as something dawns on him. “He told me... he told me that he didn't kill your father.”
“Not that he didn't set the car bomb. So find out what happened. Meanwhile, I'm going to go to some of my other sources, help narrow down the Miami end of things.”
Jackson thinks for a moment, and I understand. He suspects how dangerous Nathan Black is, but I know exactly how dangerous he is. On the other hand, Jackson knows more about Nathan's state of mind than I do right now, which is why I'm asking him to talk to Nathan directly. It's still dangerous, however.