muscle ticked in his cheek. “I got a hunch he will.”
TWELVE
Charles Frazier lived in a big two-story beige stucco home in an upper-middle-income neighborhood near the Walking Stick Golf Course in Alamo. It was eight o’clock when Bran pulled up in front of the residence, hopefully after the family had finished supper. Lights burned in a number of windows, both upstairs and down, and the lawn was neatly trimmed.
According to Frazier’s Facebook page, the computer specialist had a wife named Tina and three kids, a boy fourteen, a girl twelve, and another son just six.
As Bran climbed out of the SUV and rounded the front to Jessie’s side, he scanned their surroundings. So far there’d been no sign of the two men who had come after them at the resort. He’d been watching for a tail, but seen no trace of one.
Losing the GPS tracker had clearly set the men back, but he figured it was unlikely they’d given up. He and Jessie had been to the depot asking questions yesterday, then returned to the base this morning to talk to the CID. There was a good chance whoever wanted to stop Jessie’s investigation knew she hadn’t given up her quest to clear her father’s name.
They were still a threat to her, but things were different now. Now they also had to deal with him.
Bran clenched his jaw as they walked up the concrete path to the house. They needed answers. Tonight, he planned to get them.
Jessie rang the doorbell and he stepped back to wait. When the door swung open, Charles Frazier stood in the opening, his Facebook photo spot-on. Tall and reed-thin, red-haired and freckle-faced, he was the epitome of a computer geek. His eyes were blue and they widened as he recognized Jessie.
“Hello, Charles,” she said.
“Ms. Kegan...Jessie. What are you doing here?”
“Charles, this is Brandon Garrett. He knew my father and he was my brother’s best friend. He’s helping me...look into things.”
Frazier’s gaze swung to Bran. “It’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and Bran shook it, felt a faint tremor as Frazier’s palm touched his.
“We’d like to talk to you, Charles,” Bran said. “May we come in?”
He swallowed, glanced back inside the house. “It’s getting late. Tomorrow at the plant would be better.”
Jessie’s smile looked tight. “You had your chance to talk to us at the plant. You were too busy.”
Frazier glanced back inside. “My...my kids are getting ready for bed.”
“You should have thought of that before,” Bran said, stepping forward, forcing Frazier back into the entry. “A computer guy like you must have a home office. We can talk in there.”
Frazier managed to nod. “All right,” he said weakly. “Down the hall.” As he turned, a petite woman with straight black hair and smooth Asian features came out of the kitchen.
“You didn’t tell me you were expecting company, Charles,” she said, a little surprised.
“Tina, this is Jessie Kegan and her friend, Brandon Garrett. I worked with Jessie’s father, Colonel Kegan. You remember meeting him at the company party last year?”
Tina flashed a look of sympathy. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry about your father. Charles always spoke of him highly.”
“Thank you,” Jessie said. Bran could hear kids’ voices coming from the kitchen and the sound of small running feet.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Tina said. She looked back over her shoulder. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. The kids still have homework, then it’s time to get them ready for bed.”
“Always plenty to do when you’re raising a family,” Jessie said. Tina smiled and walked away, and Charles resumed his journey down the hall.
Frazier’s home office was dominated by a pair of computers on a desk against the wall. Along with the ergonomic chair at the desk, there were two swivel chairs to accommodate visitors. Bran studied the framed certificates hung on the walls, degrees from Carnegie Mellon, Cornell University, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and others.
The guy was no dummy.
Frazier closed the door but didn’t bother to take a seat. “What would you like to know?”
“We could run through all the usual questions,” Bran said. “And you could parrot the same responses we’ve been given by everyone else. But I prefer to cut to the chase. You’re a computer specialist. Apparently a very good one.” Bran glanced toward the framed documents to make his point, but Frazier didn’t reply.
“You were the guy who found the glitch in the Alamo system that allowed the stolen chemical weapons to go unnoticed for