Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,43
He swallowed and took another sip of coffee. “Now, that’s a more interesting challenge. If the target’s in WITSEC, the feds will set him up with a new identity, new place to live, possibly a job. All that stuff would be traceless, too. Program like that, it’d be much harder to locate someone.”
“But not impossible.”
He just looked at her.
“You could do it, right?”
“Maybe.”
“How?”
The corner of his mouth ticked up. “You think I’m going to tell you my methods so you can put them in the paper?”
“This is strictly for background. If I wanted to find someone in the witness protection program, what would I do?”
He watched her without talking, and Bailey tried not to show her impatience. Colt was one of her best sources, but she didn’t use him much because she didn’t want to pester him. In fact, she’d only used him twice before now—which was probably one reason he’d agreed to meet her.
The server stopped by to drop off Bailey’s water. She refilled Colt’s mug, and he watched her walk away. Then he looked at Bailey.
“It would be tough,” he said.
“Hypothetically, where would I start?”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Everyone’s different. Again, it would depend on the target. You research the target and zero in on a potential vulnerability.”
“Say the target is a twenty-five-year-old woman.”
“What else you know about her?”
“Very little.”
“You need to do some more legwork, then. That’s not much to go on.”
“I don’t need all your methods,” she said. “Just give me a direction. What would you do first if someone hired you to track down someone like that?”
“Social media, no question.”
“Really?” That sounded a little basic to Bailey. “Isn’t that the first thing federal agents would warn you to stay away from?”
“Yeah, but people are bad at resisting temptation. Also, there’s the ID. A driver’s license or passport could be a weakness.”
“How?”
“Facial recognition technology. Those pictures go into a database. Now, if it’s a federally protected witness, they probably keep the pictures out, but you never know.”
“What if she doesn’t have a driver’s license?”
“Then I’d focus on social media,” he said. “Twenty-five years old? I wouldn’t be surprised if she has a dummy profile, just so she can follow what some of her friends are doing. Like I said, people are bad at resisting temptation. They want to reenter their lives, even if only to observe what’s going on without them. She probably has a profile on one or more platforms. With enough research, someone could find it. From there, it’s not hard to narrow down a location.”
Bailey thought about all the time Dana Smith had spent on the computers at Villa Paloma. Was that what she’d been doing? Checking up on her old life, her old friends? Watching people move on without her?
“What about phones?” she asked. “I heard about a case in Milwaukee where a stalker tracked down a woman by paying a bounty hunter to ping her cell phone. Did you hear about that case?”
Colt nodded.
“How does that work?”
“It doesn’t. It’s illegal, for one thing.”
“But if someone was willing to break the law?”
Colt waited a beat before answering. “Bail bondsmen are treated like quasi law enforcement agencies in some ways. They’re given more access than the general public when it comes to databases. But anyone who did what you’re describing could lose his license.”
“Still, you’ve heard of this happening?”
He nodded.
“WITSEC is a buttoned-up program, though,” he said. “One of the most secure in the world. I doubt they’d provide a witness with a phone that could be traced, even if someone had the means to ping it.” He emptied his coffee and reached for his wallet. “I need to go.”
“This is on me. Thank you for meeting me.”
“No problem,” Colt said. “So, I take it the victim at the lake was a witness?”
Bailey cursed inwardly. She should have known he’d figure out what she was working on, but she hadn’t thought Colt read her stories.
“I’m just doing some research,” she said vaguely.
“Understood.”
“This is purely for background.”
“Relax, Bailey. I get it.” He scooted from the booth.
“One more question.”
He watched her expectantly.
“Given what you know, would you describe WITSEC as impenetrable?”
He smiled slightly. “Nothing’s impenetrable.”
* * *
* * *
TABITHA WHIRLED FROM table to table, dropping off food and picking up empties. She collected a stack of baskets from a high-top, then spun to the neighboring table to deliver beers.
“This is a light.”
She glanced up at the customer. The man was tall and heavyset. His T-shirt had a swoosh with the words