“Do you know of anyone who’d want to kill you?” Green asked.
“I have no idea. I move around a lot but I live in Virginia. I still have my food critique headquarters here in Atlanta. As you already know, Leo, I’ve scaled back on doing television and have put most of my attention into the new restaurant in the Town Center in Virginia Beach. But, to answer your question, collectively, I have thousands under my employ. Maybe it’s someone who was fired. But I’ve never fired anyone, personally. Or, like I said, some crazy bigot.” Pres sighed and deflated in front of them. “Hell if I know, I’ve never had anything like this happen. I don’t even have bodyguards. I never needed them.”
“I recommended he get one, but we hadn’t had a chance to interview any good companies, and the guy his manager sent over a couple weeks ago was more concerned with meeting other famous people than protecting Prescott. It was under his watch that someone broke into your office. You didn’t mention that,” Ric inserted.
“Oh yeah. Someone was in my office. It looked like they just sat at my desk and went through my things. Nothing was stolen and the computer was still locked. But I don’t know if that’s related.”
“Right now, we have to treat everything like it’s related,” God said. “Any fingerprints from the office?”
“No. I had it cleaned. I just thought someone was wanting to mess with me since nothing was removed.” Pres looked a little embarrassed at that admission but he kept going. “I’m more concerned with how someone can get into my security system at our home. Even kill the surveillance to the building.”
“Tech, anything yet?” Syn looked over at him.
“Give me a minute,” Tech said, his eyes darting all over the screen, his fingers moving so fast it was amazing he was touching only one key at a time.
“I should’ve come earlier, Leo. But that gunshot, that was… that was enough. I canceled all public appearances for the next couple weeks and came straight here.”
“It won’t take us two days,” God said confidently. No one on his team was shocked by the deadline he threw out.
“Last name Carter. Ring a bell?” Tech asked. “That’s the name the IP address is registered with.”
“Carter.” Pres placed his manicured hands on his forehead like he was scanning his brain for any memory of the name. “No one that works close to me. There could be an employee with that last name.”
“I’m looking in your company’s HR records and those of all the charities you’re on the boards of, and a few Carters are coming up, but none that I think would fit the description of a criminal. Give me a couple minutes.” Tech clicked away for another few seconds then said, “It looks like this person who got into your security system did it from an IP registered to a café. It’s owned by a Manny Carter, only a few streets away from your condo here in Atlanta. I’m still digging. I doubt the owner is the hacker. Most of the cafés in the ritzier parts of town have the newer computers with built-in cameras. Maybe he’s not as smart as he thinks and didn’t disable the camera, thinking he covered the address….”
Everyone was quiet while Tech talked them through a hacker’s mind. “He didn’t disable the camera. Image appearing in three, two, and one. On the big screen.” Tech spun around with everyone else, and a clear image of a guy in maybe his early-thirties appeared. He was Caucasian, had a plain black ball cap low on his forehead and his beady eyes constantly scanned back and forth while he worked quickly.
“He was on there for sixteen minutes, which means he’s a dabbler. Running his face through the facial recognition software now.” Tech tapped his pen on his chin while he waited. “It’ll take a while for that, maybe ten to twelve hours. There’s a ton of databases to search, not just law enforcement.”
“Oh, you are good, cutie pie,” Blair said, giving Tech a pleased stare.
“You have no idea,” Steele added, his eyes locked on Tech’s face. “Oh, you were talking about his computer skills. Sorry.”
Tech choked and turned to scowl at Steele. “Be professional,” he whispered sternly, then went back to his computer.
Day couldn’t imagine working with a better group of guys. They were definitely some characters, but they’d get to the bottom of this bullshit amateur tormenting his best friend and have him arrested in no time.
“Sounds good. Great work, Tech.” Day nodded.
“Yes, very nice work, Techy. Looks like I butted in right on time,” a slightly British-accented voice added in. The sound came from their interoffice intercom and all of them, including Pres, jumped up to look around the room, expecting someone to walk in... Or appear out of thin air.