Page 22 of Alibi for Murder (Colby Agency: The Next Generation #2)

Wonder Lake

Rivero Residence

Lake Shore Drive, Noon

Steve knocked on the door after two attempts to rally the resident with the doorbell.

Rivero knew they were here, and they knew he was in there. He had the cameras, and his vintage SUV was parked near the door like before. It was backed up to the house as if the owner wanted to ensure a swift and unencumbered getaway.

“He’s not going to answer.” Allie’s shoulders sagged.

The meeting at the Colby Agency had buoyed her hopes, and then Potter and Fraser had sunk them with their ridiculous accusations.

“He will answer as long as he’s still breathing,” Steve argued. He fisted his hand and rapped again, hard enough to rattle the door on its hinges. “Because we’re not leaving—” he stared directly at the camera “—until he does.”

“If you keep pounding on my door,” Rivero said, his voice sounding scratchy over the speaker, “I’m calling the police.”

Steve pulled out his cell phone and stared up at the camera.

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll call FBI agents Potter and Fraser and tell them you’re ready to talk about all the secrets you uncovered at Ledwell.

Particularly those about the child, Tommy, and his parents’ strange behavior after his alleged death. ”

Thankfully, Allie concealed the surprise she might be feeling at his statement.

His goal was not to make her think he knew something he hadn’t shared with her.

His intent was to get the guy to come to the door.

It was a strategy he hoped to hell would work.

They badly needed a break—sooner rather than later.

The release of locks clicked in the silence that followed.

Steve resisted the urge to grin. Gotcha.

The door opened and Rivero stood there, a couple of feet back from the actual opening, as if he feared catching something or being yanked out of the house by the collar of his hoodie.

For such a former hotshot, his look had gone to hell.

Sweatpants and a hoodie. Unshaven and his gray peppered hair badly in need of combing.

He exhaled a big breath. “Come in. Let’s get this over with.”

Steve flashed Allie a knowing look. She walked in, and he followed.

Rivero locked the door behind them. Like Allie, he had multiple deadbolts.

Then he led them deeper into the house, to a large main living area that looked out over the lake through a wall of glass. Not a bad view.

The former star reporter gestured to the sofa and then took a seat in what appeared to be his preferred chair. The leather recliner showed the wear of its preference, whereas the matching sofa looked new.

“What do you want to know?” He looked from Steve to Allie. “I can’t promise I’ll answer every question you ask, but I’ll give you what I can.”

When Allie started to speak, Rivero held up both hands stop-sign fashion. “Be aware that I’m only doing this because Fraser and Potter are closing in on a court order that I may not be able to ignore. I’d love to get a step ahead of them.”

Good to know the two agents were rattling his cage as well.

“What do you know about the accident that killed my parents?” Allie started with the issue closest to her heart.

Steve wasn’t surprised that was her first question. This thing that had begun haunting her less than seventy-two hours ago had reopened that old wound, relentlessly tearing at it.

Rivero considered her question for a time before responding. To make something up? To figure out the best lie? Who knew.

Now that Steve was this close, he noted that beneath the I-don’t-care attire and lack of grooming the man didn’t look so different from the way he had more than two decades ago.

He’d allowed his hair to gray, but he still looked fairly lean for an older man.

Judging by the equipment on the other end of the room, he stayed fit.

Weights and a stair climber as well as the latest in bike machines.

The eyeglasses were new. Or maybe he’d worn contacts back when his face was all over the news channels.

If not for the downgrade in his appearance, he might still look the part.

“Your father,” he began, “was young, not so highly educated and a bit na?ve when he started with Ledwell.”

Allie shifted in her seat. No doubt feeling the sting of his blunt words about her father’s education level.

“You mean he wasn’t Ivy League educated like the scientists at Ledwell,” Steve corrected.

“Of course that’s what I mean. The place was full of pompous geniuses.” He looked to Allie then. “Don’t get me wrong, your father was a brilliant man. He had the kind of brilliance an expensive university couldn’t give. That’s why Ledwell wanted him.”

She visibly relaxed. Steve wanted to keep her that way. This was tough enough without added nonsense.

“There were rumors of trouble,” Allie said. “I found a few news reports, headlines in papers online but nothing deep or revealing. Nothing that ever prompted people, much less the authorities, to sit up and take notice.”

“That’s because Ledwell owned everyone back then.

The press, the powers that be, they all said what Ledwell wanted them to say.

When I tried to find a damned outlet that would publish my story or let me tell it in an interview, no one would touch me.

I ended up blackballed.” He looked away a moment, stared out that enormous glass wall.

“I had to get away. I disappeared for a while. Wrote the book.” He shrugged.

“Who knows, maybe one day it will be published.”

“What was your story?” Allie prodded, shifting gears like a reporter herself.

Steve kept quiet. Let her do the asking. Reporters liked when a story was personal. This was as personal as it got for Allie. The connection would be stronger with her.

He looked from Allie to Steve and back. “I need to know that you aren’t wearing a wire of any sort.”

Frankly, Steve was surprised he hadn’t attempted to strip search them when they first entered his home. Maybe age had slowed him in that respect as well.

Rivero got up and picked up a device from the table next to his chair. “If you’re carrying anything electronic, this will pick it up.”

Steve stood and removed his cell phone from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table. He stepped away from the sofa, held up both arms. “That’s all I have.”

Rivero moved the device over his body from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his toes. Careful not to miss an inch. When he was finished, he nodded and turned toward Allie.

She opened her purse and took out her cell then placed it on the coffee table next to Steve’s. Rivero checked her purse then scanned her body as he had Steve’s. When the man nodded, Allie sat down. She tucked her cell back into her purse.

Steve settled onto the sofa once more.

“I heard rumors that Ledwell was going beyond the established limits in their AI research and development. No surprise really. They were all doing it to some degree, but something about the way Ledwell operated gave me pause. Made me want to find the dirt. Eventually I found myself a whistle-blower. A janitor, Harvey Culver, who worked the evening shift.” He fell silent for a moment.

“This was a year or so before your father’s death.

This janitor was keeping an eye out for me.

Reporting back what he saw. I bought him a camera he could easily conceal to snap pics of whatever he thought might be of interest to me. ”

Again, he paused and stared out that massive window wall for a time.

“This went on for a while. It wasn’t like he could bring me something after every shift.

It was only on those rare occasions when no one noticed him around and allowed an opening for him to see something or hear something. The wait was difficult but necessary.”

“Did you eventually learn the details that would give you the story you were after?”

He looked annoyed at Allie’s question, but it was a perfectly logical one.

“You don’t look for something that will give you the story you’re after, Ms. Foster. The story draws you to it, and you look for the evidence that will confirm what the story is telling you. A true reporter doesn’t create a story. He reveals the truth of the story that seduces him—lures him in.”

Steve got it, but he didn’t see the need to be so dramatic. “Which was?” he prompted.

“That Ledwell was way ahead of everyone else. Twenty-nine years ago, they already had robots that looked and behaved so much like a human it was nearly impossible to decipher between them.”

Allie looked to Steve. He wasn’t completely surprised, but she appeared to be.

“It was a race,” Steve suggested. “What made this so newsworthy?”

“They were using human…” He hesitated. “Human parts in their development. Granted these were humans who had left their bodies to Ledwell for R&D, or so that was the claim. But their work was outside the parameters of what was considered ethical at the time. The laws…” He shrugged.

“Were reasonably straightforward in those days. Not like now, where there’s so much ambiguity.

To tell the truth, I can only imagine what they’re doing now.

” He looked directly at Steve then. “Whatever you imagine, multiply that times about a thousand. We should all be scared.”

“How did my father play into your investigation? Was it because he was part of SILO?”

Like Steve, Allie recognized that was where this was going. She had hoped this man could shed some light on at least some of the unknowns.

Rivero stared at her for a long moment before responding. “We don’t say SILO out loud. We don’t text about it. We don’t talk about it period. It was the CIA’s baby, and that will get you taken out quicker than a dose of cyanide.”

“We’ll take that as a yes,” Steve fired back.

Rivero held up his hands. “To answer the first part of your question, when the janitor died suddenly—”

“How did he die?” Steve interrupted.