Caught Off Guard Read online

  “And Castillo was there the whole time?”

  She nodded. “I kept track of him, just in case. I didn’t want Kay to see him. We had a drink at the hotel bar, and he stayed in the lobby until we got in the elevator to go to our rooms. That was slightly after ten-thirty.”

  Dang it. There goes that suspect.

  27

  Monday

  “Unless Castillo has a secret way to teleport, there was no way he could watch Kallie and Kay get into an elevator then rush to an airport—the closest from the hotel was twenty minutes—fly to Oregon, get a car to McVay’s to kill him, and get back to Sea-Tac in time for his red-eye,” I told Lockett.

  He said, “I depose Castillo in a few days. Until then, we’re looking at video from the event to back up what Kallie Bartell told you.”

  “And Lil’ Megalodon’s alibi?” I asked. “How’s that panning out?”

  We were in my dad’s newspaper building, using an extra office. Dad, Mom, and Cora had landed safely in Greece, and Dad had given Stella the time off as well. But she refused and was sitting at the front desk, a large canister of bear spray at her side—for use on “the lost and confused,” she’d said and dared them to wander into her territory.

  I’d done a sweep for bugs when I arrived. The place was clean.

  In true Dad fashion, he was turning their trip into a working vacation and was sending articles and the like to Stella while away.

  Lockett flipped through some pages on his notepad and said, “Lil’ Megalodon, also known as DeShawn Cook, was home alone. He says he has Facebook Live videos and tweets to prove it.”

  I curled up my lip. “Everyone in the world knows there are services that can post those for you at scheduled times. His alibi is weak.”

  Lockett nodded in agreement.

  Stella knocked at the open door. She held out a small three-by-five, padded envelope. “Messenger delivered this for you, Sam, just now.”

  I cut Lockett a worried glance. “I guess I shouldn’t worry too much. It’s too small to be a severed head or anything.”

  Lockett shook his head. “Not too small to be severed finger. Or a picture of a severed head.”

  I let the disgust show on my face. “You have a way of ruining things, you know that?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s called being prepared.”

  Stella laughed. “I’ll just go back to my desk. In case there’s a tiny bomb in there.”

  “Ha ha!” I yelled at her retreating back. “Neither of you are very funny.”

  Just in case, I put my ear to the package to listen for ticking. Lockett chuckled and handed me a letter opener. I eased it between the flaps and gently cut the package open then tipped the package upside down and let the contents fall out—a thumb drive.

  I groaned. “This can’t be good. I don’t want to see anyone get beheaded either.”

  I glanced at the package. It had no return address, but the postage stamp showed it had come from Seattle.

  Lockett handed me a ziplock bag. “Here, put it in this bag in case we need to look for fingerprints.”

  I glanced inside the envelope before putting it in the plastic bag. A small folded piece of paper was stuck at the bottom. I pulled it out using the smallest pinch of my thumb and index finger possible, hoping to keep the paper intact.

  I placed the note on the table, and Lockett used the tip of a pencil to open it.

  On the page was a computer-printed message: “Surrounded by liars.”

  I glanced at the thumb drive. “Hey, Stella,” I called. “You don’t have any—”

  She came into the room and slapped a plastic bag on the desk, the kind for produce at the grocery store. “No, but you can use this. I went to Chuck’s just now to get it.”

  Chuck’s was the local market in town and happened to be adjacent to Dad’s newspaper.

  Using the bag in place of a glove, I picked up the thumb drive and inserted it into my laptop. Two video files popped up.

  I hovered the cursor over the file names. “Eenie, meenie, miney, mo.”

  “Either one could really blow,” Lockett finished.

  “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  I clicked the first file. McVay’s house was the opening shot. The sky was black, the neighborhood quiet. AJ’s car was in the driveway. Another car was parked at the end of the drive, a Honda Civic. When AJ came out of McVay’s house, the guy in the Civic jumped out and jogged up to him. AJ put a hand up, keeping the guy at arm’s length.

  I said, “Reporter, I think.”

  “Likely.”

  We watched AJ back out and drive away. The camera followed him. On one side of McVay’s house was the lake. Across the street were other houses and the empty lot with the escape room exit. Behind those houses was the exit out of the neighborhood.

  AJ drove out of sight, presumably leaving the neighborhood. The camera panned from McVay’s house and swung left to the houses across from it. The camera zoomed in on the space between two houses. A car just like AJ’s cruised across the screen then came to a stop and idled.

  From behind the camera, coming from McVay’s house—or the escape room exit, if I were to guess—a man jogged across the screen toward the car.

  “Is that McVay?” I asked, stunned, as I leaned toward the screen.

  Lockett bowed his head and rested it on the table. “What were they doing?”

  My mind could not compute the fact that AJ had lied to me, to us. I rewound the video and watched it in slow motion. “Look, based the angle the guy enters the screen, I think it’s likely he came from the escape room exit. Leo said the dirt had been disturbed there. I thought it meant someone went in that way, but now I think someone came out from there.”

  I pointed at a dark spot on the screen where a person suddenly appeared, a backpack over his shoulder. The moonlight showed us only his silhouette. He jogged to AJ’s car and got in and they drove away.

  “We can’t clearly say it's McVay or that’s AJ’s car,” I said.

  “We need to talk to AJ,” Lockett said. “It’s not going to be hard to convince a jury it's them. Look how quickly you and I jumped to the conclusion that it was them.”

  “Who do you think is filming this?”

  “Good question.”

  “Well, whoever they are, they now know of McVay’s secret entrance.”

  Lockett leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Why are they filming McVay? Or are they filming AJ?”

  “Maybe the next video will answer all those questions,” I said hopefully.

  “We’re not that lucky.” The look on his face was utter disgust.

  I could totally relate. I’d gone out on a limb for AJ, and he’d lied to me.

  I clicked on the second video, and Brad Jenson appeared on the screen. He was sitting in a chair facing the camera. The shot was from slightly below the shoulders on up. Behind him were a bed and end table. He was in a hotel room. The room was sterile, no clothes out, the bed made. The video gave us no more information.

  A light went on, and Jenson squinted, looking away. He hadn’t moved and seemed startled by the light, and I got the sense that he wasn’t alone. But the other person wasn’t making a sound and hadn’t come into the frame.

  Jenson spoke. “My name is Brad Jenson. I’m a trainer for the Portland Pioneers. I have worked there for twelve years. I am addicted to gambling.” Brad’s throat convulsed, and he looked to the right of the camera for the briefest of moments.

  I paused the video and touched the screen. “Look, there’s a shadow. Half of it’s been cut off by the frame.”

  Lockett leaned in. “That’s not a shadow. That’s the texture from the wallpaper. Or a stain.”

  I shook my head. Photography had been my livelihood for over a decade. I knew shadows. “No, let’s go back a frame. Jenson hasn’t moved.” I clicked the video back two frames to when the light went on. “See, he’s still in the same position, and the area is lighter. Now, watch.�
� I clicked one frame. “A stain appears, directly behind him.” I clicked to the second frame. “Now, the dark pattern has moved to the edge of the frame. Someone clicked on the light then walked from left to right. They’re now standing to Jenson’s left. Almost diagonally.”

  Lockett nodded. “I see it. Good eye.”

  I sighed. “In today’s world, though, with deep fakes so easily made, I can’t say any part of this video is real, from the background to the shadow. This could have been filmed in Jenson’s house the day he died and superimposed over this background.”

  “Then the same could be said for the other video.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.” I’d forgotten to consider that, having jumped to a bad conclusion. “We’ll have to ask AJ and see what he says. In the meantime, let’s finish this, and I’ll send them to Toby and see if he can look at the code or whatever magic he does.”

  I clicked Play.

  Jenson cleared his throat. “It’s because of my addition to gambling that I agreed to help AJ Gunn murder Keith McVay. AJ got Keith out of the house, and I snuck in and waited for him. I’m also the person responsible for Keith having performance-enhancing drugs in his system. Following his car accident, he was given a shot pregame to help with pain. I obtained a shot that was labeled as the painkiller but had the PEDs in it. AJ was paying me half a million dollars to do it. His motivation was the starting position. I am confessing this because the guilt is too much, and I’m too chicken to go to the police. This is my final confession.”

  I paused the video, afraid we were about to see something graphic. I advanced it frame by frame. Jenson looked toward his left and followed someone or something back across to the center. I rewound and watched again.

  “Look. The shadow is moving,” I said.

  We watched it forward and in reverse several times. I’d found that watching things in reverse sometimes showed details that got lost in forward play.

  The light clicked off, and the room dimmed. Jenson ducked his head, then the camera went off.

  I shook my head. “Nothing about the video feels right.” I pointed at the screen. “Why didn’t he stand to turn the video off? Why is he already sitting when the recording starts? Maybe I’ve seen too many movies, and my expectations are skewed by that, but this doesn’t feel right. And who makes a suicide video someplace else then leaves and goes home to do the deed?”

  I picked up my phone and called Toby, putting him on speaker.

  “At your service, dudette,” he said.

  “I have a few videos I need you to look at and see if you can dig into them or whatever. I need to know if they’re real.”

  Toby grunted. “I’m not an expert on deep fakes. I can look at the code, but if the person’s good, then I’ll miss it. But I got an online buddy who might be able to help.”

  I glanced at Lockett, who shrugged. “Do you trust him?” I asked.

  Toby snort laughed. “Can you trust anyone online? But that’s the only solution I have. I’ll look first and then let you know if I need to bring him in.”

  Lockett nodded.

  “Deal,” I said. “I’m at my dad’s office.”

  Typically, I would’ve let Toby in using screen-sharing software, but after getting hacked, I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “On my way,” he said then disconnected.

  I dialed AJ next. He answered on the second ring.

  “You need to get down to my dad’s newspaper right now,” I said, not too friendly.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You can tell me when you get here.” I disconnected.

  “What if he goes in the wind?” Lockett asked.

  The thought had occurred to me. If my call spooked AJ enough, he might run, especially if he was guilty. I’d had flashes of doubt and was having one then. But I’d come that far, trusting and believing in him.

  “He won’t. But if he does, then we have our answer, don’t we?”

  “Are you sure about him?” Lockett side-eyed me.

  I nodded and crossed my fingers under the table, hoping I was right.

  28

  Monday

  Before AJ reached the end of the video, he confessed.

  “Okay, I omitted some parts from that night.” He looked at Lockett and me. “But I didn’t think it was pertinent.”

  Overcome with anger, frustration, and disappointment, I looked for an outlet to vent the mass of feelings consuming me. I kicked him hard in the shin, twice.

  He doubled over. “Yow! That hurt.”

  I leaned in close. “You’re lucky I didn’t punch you in the face or use my stun gun on you. Which, come to think of it, is a pretty good idea.” I turned to Lockett. “Grab my backpack, please.”

  AJ pushed back in his seat. “Sam, I’m sorry.”

  I held up a finger. “My family’s privacy was violated. My six-year-old niece was used to threaten me. I’ve lost clients.”

  “You were almost killed,” Lockett said.

  I stared at AJ. “Oh yeah. There’s that too.”

  He buried his head in his hands. “I was going to tell you, I swear.”

  “But?” I said. “Let’s hear this excuse.”

  AJ met my gaze briefly then ducked his head. “The morning I was arrested, you came to see me early. Remember, Sam?”

  I nodded.

  “Then the both of you came back later that afternoon.”

  I gestured for him to speed up and get to the point.

  “In between, I had another visitor. Another lawyer. Or at least, that’s what he said he was.”

  I looked at AJ and Lockett. “I checked your visitation records. There’s no one on the list but us. I looked because I wanted to know if anyone from the team or front office came to see you.”

  AJ shrugged. “Well, someone came.” He gave us a description of the guy, but it didn’t sound like anyone I knew. He continued, “He had pictures of my mom. Of Troy taking groceries into her house. Of her at the hospital, getting chemo.” AJ picked his head up, tears in his eyes. “This guy, he said to keep my mouth shut about Keith sneaking out. He knew Keith had snuck out, away from the reporter. He even knew what time I brought Keith back. He said if I didn’t keep my mouth shut, Troy and my mom would pay. He knew my mom’s doctor’s name. He knew everything about Mom and Troy.”

  I sank to the floor, resting on my haunches.

  Lockett sat on the desk behind us. “Why didn’t you tell us this?”

  “It’s my mom and kid brother. They’re all the family I have!” AJ exclaimed.

  I sat back on the floor and met AJ’s gaze. “I’m still mad at you.”

  He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I truly am.”

  I looked up at the ceiling. “So why release a video that shows exactly what they threatened you to keep quiet about?”

  Lockett said, “Because they wanted to release it. Them having the video and Jenson’s confession puts them in the driver’s seat. We’re behind the curve, doing damage control instead of actual investigation.” He pointed at AJ. “He’ll be tried in social media.”

  AJ looked at us. “Wait, what confession?”

  I met his confused gaze with a hard one of my own. “As Precious would say, hold on to your titties, kitties, because you’re about to have the ground pulled out from under you.”

  We played the video for him.

  AJ was stunned. “None of that’s true. I don’t even have half a million on hand. After I pay my agent and taxes, I bring home under eight hundred thousand. I pay for my house, my mom’s house, and Troy. Anything extra goes into investments.”

  I sighed, stood, and closed the computer, worried that the thumb drive could have put spyware back on my computer. “But you could come up with half a million if you needed to.”

  He shrugged because he had no argument. Then he held out his hands. “I was in jail when Brad died.”

  I nodded. “You have that going for you.” I gestured at the computer. “I wasn’t even sure they were real, b
ut you confirmed the first one was. I’m going to assume the second one is as well. Toby’s in the other room with the thumb drive and his computer, trying to verify both, just in case.” I stood. “I’m going to have him double-check the visitation log at the jail.”

  I exited the room and went to my dad’s office, where Toby was working. I shared with him AJ’s story about the visitor. Then I went back to the other office.

  Lockett and AJ weren’t talking. Lockett was writing on his notepad, a list with several question marks.

  I sat on the couch next to AJ. “Why don’t you tell us where you took McVay?”

  AJ wiped his eyes and looked at us. “Keith was off-the-charts paranoid. Like I thought he was having a bad trip or something. And I asked him if he was okay, if he needed help. I’d never seen him like that. But he kept saying he was fine. We’re eating, and he just gets up and walks to the pantry, saying he needs hot sauce and doesn’t come back. I waited, but finally I followed him. I’m like, ‘Hey, man, you need help reaching the hot sauce or something?’ I go in, and there he is, standing in this little room with a wall of monitors and his finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet. It’s like a panic room or something. I step in, and he closes the door.”

  “It’s an escape room,” Lockett said. “Because it has an exit. McVay’s house was heavily bugged with both audio and video.”

  “And he knew it.” I couldn’t help but state the obvious. “What did he say?”

  “He rambled about having been a part of some bad things but wanting out. Needing a change. He told me to get as far away from the Pioneers as possible. But he wouldn’t explain anything. He asked me if I would drive him somewhere.” AJ shrugged. “I agreed. He told me where to wait for him. Then he said we needed to go back to the kitchen and finish eating then talk about the game. Then I would leave and wait for him on the other side of the neighborhood.”

  Lockett flipped the page on his notepad to a clean sheet. “So this was early in the evening.”