Sean walked down six flights of stairs and headed toward the van. Jack was standing near the corner of the convention center. From where he was, he might have seen Sean standing at the top of the parking garage. Sean wouldn’t be surprised.
Sean straightened his spine. He didn’t want to have it out with Jack now. His emotions were too raw, he would lash out in anger. This wasn’t Jack’s fault, but dammit, he didn’t want to talk to him about it. Him or Dillon or Lucy or anyone. It would just make him seem weak. He felt weak, but he didn’t want to share that with anyone.
Jack’s face was blank as Sean approached. Without comment, Jack turned and walked toward the van as soon as Sean reached him. Sean saw Riley Knight, a cop he knew. Riley was a good guy, and Sean was almost relieved that he could work with someone easy-going who he liked. Crime scene tape surrounded the van, and a CSI tech was on her knees on the sidewalk inspecting something that Sean couldn’t see.
Standing just outside the crime scene tape, Jack motioned toward a very tall, broad-shouldered detective. He came over and Jack said, “John Black, Sean Rogan. He worked with Ellen on the software, he’ll know what’s missing.”
Sean said, “You didn’t find the drone?”
“No, though we’ve broadened the search. But if this is a valuable piece of technology, it could be she was attacked for it.”
“The drone isn’t valuable—it’s high-end, but someone could buy it for a thousand bucks. The software Ellen wrote is worth more, but that software is on a laptop that communicates with the drone. Even then, I don’t see what they would gain from stealing it. Like I said, everything is available in different formats, and the software is open code. The only thing proprietary about the project was how Ellen packaged it.”
John let Sean in under the crime scene tape. When Sean glanced back, Jack was already walking away.
“Ms. Robinson, correct?” John said to the CSI.
She looked up at him. “Yes?”
“Are you almost done? Can we go in the van?”
“We’re done inside, but I’m collecting samples—I may have found a small amount of blood. Just stay on that side of the markers.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
She nodded and went back to inspecting the sidewalk.
“Marc Dupre gave me a basic rundown on the drone, but he wasn’t all that helpful,” John said. “Can you explain? In lay terms, please.”
“One of the requests Ellen had from multiple law enforcement agencies was for a drone that was quiet and responsive. They would suggest something like a military drone without weapons, something to provide quality video to surveil an area of interest, specifically in urban areas. One SWAT team leader gave her a real-life scenario—they had a hostage situation, but they didn’t know how many hostages or suspects, and the drones they had were too loud and didn’t have the ability to incorporate other technology, like heat sensors or real-time video. All that tech is available, but putting it together in an easy-to-use system was Ellen’s goal. An agency could purchase one package, Ellen would come in and train their tech people, and they’d be able to use it for any number of things—active shooter situations, looking for meth labs, assessing a hostage situation, high-risk traffic stops, and more. Ellen ran a scenario aimed at getting a handle on human trafficking along the Delta using drones to patrol the waterways—I’m sure you know that Sacramento has the second highest incidence of trafficking in the country.”
“I’m unfortunately aware.”
“Ellen is a true visionary, the way her brain works. If you can play video games, you can run her program, it was intuitive and responsive. I’m . . .” Sean shut up when his voice cracked. He was getting emotional, he had to rein it in. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, she’s a friend. How is she?”
“I don’t know yet, but the best trauma surgeon in Sacramento is working on her.” John opened the rear doors of the van. “Did she have a major competitor? Someone who might be developing the same thing?”
“The tactical world is relatively small, and Pride caters to small units and private security. But I haven’t heard of anyone developing something like this. It’s sort of a niche market. It would be great for a business like Pride, but a big business like 531 or NorCal? Drop in the bucket.”
“And you were hired to . . . ?”
“Test the software and work out the bugs.”
John handed him gloves. “The van has been processed for prints, fibers, and blood—there was no blood. No prints. When we got Ellen out of the Dumpster, your wife assessed that she had been attacked, likely suffering from blunt force trauma, though she may have been shot. There was a lot of matted blood and they weren’t in a position to fully assess the damage. No other visible wounds. Still—I don’t know much of anything right now, other than that quick field assessment.”
Sean pulled on the gloves John handed him. “No prints?”
“Someone wiped it down. We found prints in the cab—they match Ellen Dupre. And there were some prints on the back door of the van, they were all Ellen’s and her ex-husband, Marc, but nothing in here.” He gestured to the main command center.
Sean didn’t need to look long to assess. “Her laptop is missing. It’s the brains of the drone. Also the backup drive—it’s supposed to be here.” He gestured to an empty slot under the small desk. “But they’re idiots.”
“Explain.”
“I can track the drone and her laptop from the Pride office. The backup drive is external, but it saves everything remotely to the main server in real time. I should be able to track what Ellen was doing last night—I mean, I know that she was testing the night-vision camera and creating a video presentation for today. It’s the big selling feature. But I can find out exactly what the drone recorded.”
“I suppose it would be too easy to have her attack on video.”
Sean said, “Sometimes cases are easy.”
“I’ll have Officer Knight take you, if you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I’ve known Riley for years.”
“Document everything. Don’t talk to anyone except me—and of course Riley. I asked your wife if she would be willing to assist, so she’s partnering with me on the case. Jack and Megan are friends with Marc Dupre, I can’t have them involved any more than they already are. I can’t figure out why Marc would attack his wife for her equipment. Unless he had a reason to kill her, and the robbery was a diversion. Did Ellen ever discuss with you whether she wanted to sell her company?”
“Sell Pride? No—she wouldn’t. At least, my impression is she loved what she did. She worked her ass off to make Pride successful.”
“And her ex-husband? Did he want to sell?”
“I get it. The ex is at the top of your list. I don’t know Marc as well as Ellen, but I’ll tell you one thing—he’s great at marketing and sales, but he wouldn’t know a backup drive from a dictionary.”
* * *
“Agent Kincaid?”
A tall female officer younger than Lucy approached her. “Yes,” Lucy said.
Lucy had been supervising the crime scene investigators in the alley looking for evidence, though she knew by their demeanor that they hadn’t found anything of value. The only evidence might be in or on the Dumpster itself.