Colby Rebuilt. Debra Webb
any details,” Bailen promised, “I’ll pass along what I can.”
Her head moved up and down in a motion of agreement, but Mary Jane’s thoughts were churning on the horror evolving in her head. Rebecca running away from her killer…or maybe struggling with him. Him bashing her over the head…once, twice and then again.
“Where?” Mary Jane hadn’t even realized the inquiry had taken shape in her brain until she heard the word echo in the corridor outside her apartment. She should have asked the detective in, she realized belatedly. Instead, she’d stood here in the doorway and listened to the news no one ever wanted to hear.
Bailen looked confused. “Where?”
“Where did you find her…remains?”
With that question, the full implications collapsed around her with new, brutal impact. She had another funeral to plan. It seemed unbelievable. So much death in so little time.
“That’s part of the puzzle,” Bailen said wearily. “Her remains were found amid the rubble of the building downtown that once housed the Colby Agency.”
Colby Agency?
“What sort of business is that?” Mary Jane wasn’t familiar with the name. Insurance? Staffing?
“The Colby Agency is a private investigation agency,” Bailen explained. “Been a prominent Chicago fixture for more than a quarter of a century. The building was blown up last Christmas Eve by thugs attempting to cover up fraud at an investment firm located at the same address. For a while there was some question as to whether the Colby Agency or the investment firm was the target, but that investigation is closed now.”
“Why would my sister have been at a private investigation agency?” That didn’t make sense to Mary Jane. Why wouldn’t Rebecca have told her about that kind of thing? But then, she hadn’t told her everything about the trouble with her employer. Did the Colby Agency have something to do with her testimony against Horizon Software?
There was no way for Rebecca to even guess. Her sister would have kept things from her in an effort to protect her. It was part of the “older sibling” mentality. She hadn’t told Mary Jane the gritty truth about her employer for that very reason. Sure Mary Jane had known there were problems and that Rebecca was going to blow the whistle, but, as Mary Jane had learned over the past few months, those details had only scratched the surface. Mary Jane doubted she would ever know everything that had happened between her sister, Horizon Software and the federal authorities.
“I can’t answer that question, Ms. Brooks,” the detective admitted, drawing her from her painful thoughts. “But I can tell you that we’re going to find out. That’s a promise.”
Mary Jane thanked the detective and then watched him go. The thought of going back into her apartment was almost unbearable. She knew what would happen.
She would go inside and close the door. And then she would break down. The idea of being in public, if only in the deserted corridor of her apartment building, helped to keep her unsteady composure in place. She had to be the strong one when it came to situations like this. She’d always been the one everyone counted on to handle the routine things life threw in her path…the one who took care of things no one else had the time or inclination to. Rebecca had been too busy making her mark in the business world to bother with the everyday trivialities.
Now she was alone. Completely alone.
Mary Jane straightened away from the door, squared her shoulders in defiance of the trembling rampant in her body. Yes, she would cry. And then she would pull herself together and notify the distant relatives; and then she would make the memorial service arrangements—with or without the remains.
Then, when those necessary arrangements were out of the way, there was one other thing she decided she had to do.
She had to know for certain why Rebecca was dead.
Rebecca Brooks had been a good person. A wonderful woman, barely thirty-two, with her entire life ahead of her. She had gone to church most Sundays and had provided significant financial support for her elderly parents. Rebecca’s help was the reason Mary Jane had been able to take an extended leave of absence from her teaching and stay home to care for their ailing parents rather than putting them in a nursing home.
Someone had murdered Rebecca for attempting to do the right thing—that had to be it, there simply was no other possible reason—and Mary Jane intended to see that whoever did this horrible thing was punished to the fullest extent of the law.
She had no idea how a murder investigation was conducted, but she did know where to start.
The Colby Agency.
The last place her sister had been before she was murdered. The place where she’d taken her final breath.
THE COLBY AGENCY HAD A NEW HOME. The tenth floor of a daring high-rise that gleamed against the Chicago skyline, displaying the same elegance and domination the world had come to expect of the prestigious agency.
Victoria Colby-Camp smiled as she looked out over the city she loved. The view was somewhat different, but the pulse of the thriving metropolis stretching out before her was exactly the same. Thanksgiving was only a couple of weeks away, and Victoria had a great deal to be thankful for.
A soft rap on her door pulled Victoria’s attention from her thoughts and the view. Ben Haygood, the agency’s software and hardware expert, hovered at the door of her office.
“Yes, Ben?”
Now that, to his way of thinking, permission to enter had been granted, he burst into the room like the lean mass of vibrant energy he was. “Ma’am, we’ve encountered a slight glitch in the backup files we retrieved from the cyber storage system.”
All had been lost in the explosion that had brought down the agency’s former home. Ben had worked tirelessly for weeks since the opening of the new building to get everything in order. While working from their temporary quarters, minimal files had been pulled from cyber storage. Now that they were settled in their new home, hard copies of all electronically stored files were to be retrieved and reorganized.
“What sort of problem?” Victoria asked as she moved to the chair behind her desk. It wasn’t the one she had used for so very many years—the one that James, her first husband and the founder of the Colby Agency had used—but it was quite comfortable and unquestionably elegant.
“The download has stopped midstream, and a secondary password has been requested.” Ben pulled at the tie that already hung loosely at his throat. “I…ah…can’t remember the secondary password we selected.”
That didn’t sound like Ben at all. He never forgot anything, much less a password. And even when there was a glitch, he generally took care of it and then told her about it. Evidently settling into the new building had disrupted his usually unshakable sangfroid. “Is that going to be a major problem?” she inquired cautiously, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable but needing clarification.
He shook his head enthusiastically. “I just need your authorization to override the password.”
Now she got the picture. “Of course.” Victoria settled into her chair and opened the laptop on her desk. “Walk me through the steps, Ben.”
Ten seconds later Ben had his authorization.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Victoria gifted him with a smile she hoped relieved his obvious embarrassment. “Thank you, Ben, for taking such good care of our files.”
He nodded as he backed out of her office, then he wheeled around and promptly bumped into Elaine Younger. Victoria smothered a laugh as Ben went overboard to offer his apologies. She sincerely hoped that one of these days he found someone who would truly appreciate him for all his many endearing assets. He could certainly do with a little grounding.
When Ben stepped aside, Elaine and Darla White, the agency’s new