Caught Off Guard Page 20

  AJ nodded. “Yeah, like seven. We watched film, talked about the game. Then I said I needed to go. And I left.” He pointed at the computer. “You saw what happened next.”

  I asked, “The guy that ran up to you was a reporter?”

  AJ nodded. “Yeah, for the local paper.”

  I needed clarification. “Like you know he’s a legit reporter?”

  Again, he nodded. “Yeah, he’s always at our press conferences.”

  I moved him down on my list of people to investigate. “So you take McVay where?”

  “To the post office. In his backpack, he had a large padded envelope he wanted to mail. We drove around for about fifteen minutes then to a post office in downtown Portland.”

  “Fifteen minutes?” This from Lockett. “Any reason for that?”

  AJ shrugged. “Keith wanted to make sure we weren’t being followed. After we dropped off the envelope at the mailbox, I drove him home.”

  Lockett asked, “What was the package?”

  AJ shook his head. “I dunno. Keith said it was insurance.”

  “Any chance you saw who the package was addressed to?” I said.

  AJ gave a slight smile. “I didn’t have to. Keith told me. Said he was sending it to a family friend, a lawyer named Chet Fuller.”

  I asked, “When you got the visit from this mystery guy while you were in jail, he told you to stay quiet about the video, right?”

  AJ nodded.

  I shook my head in confusion. “I can’t come up with a reason why he might ask this. Did he ask what you and McVay did?”

  He nodded. “I told him we dropped off a letter at the post office. He asked me who it was addressed to, and I told him I didn’t know.” He held up both hands in protest. “I know I should have told you about him and the video. But I was scared. I didn’t know what to do.”

  I was frustrated. If we’d had that information from day one, we might have already solved the case.

  “But you weren’t scared enough to tell him about the envelope,” I said.

  “Sam,” Lockett said in warning.

  AJ stared at me. “But I would have. At that moment, he was telling me they have access to my family. But they hadn’t hurt them. I knew if I told anyone about the visit, they would hurt Troy or my mom or both. But they had no way of knowing if I knew who Keith mailed the package to or not. So I took a chance. But if they’d pushed me, I would have told them. Knowing the name was the one card I held.”

  “Did you ever plan on telling me, us?” I gestured at Lockett.

  “I told you today,” he argued.

  “Because you had to.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I’d like you to tell me what you would have done differently. My family can’t hide out in Greece.”

  I wasn’t sure what I would have done in his shoes. “Toby!” I yelled, hoping he could hear me next door.

  A few moments later, Toby stood in the doorway, laptop in hand. “You bellowed?”

  “Do a search for Chet Fuller. Lawyer. Minnesota.” Minnesota is where McVay grew up.

  He sat at the desk to type.

  “Sam.” AJ met my gaze, a deep sadness pulling on his features. “You have to see this from my perspective. The entire visit with Keith was weird, and once he put the envelope in the mail, I wanted to be done with it all. I wanted to get away from Keith as fast as I could. Honestly, and I’m ashamed to say this, I thought he was on something. Or bipolar or something. I never imagined all this would happen.”

  I began to put the pieces together. “Someone was there that night. Why are they filming? Maybe because McVay’s behavior is so out of the ordinary they pick up on it. Maybe because you two go into the pantry for hot sauce and come out ten minutes later? Whoever had McVay’s house bugged is tipped off somehow. That’s likely who’s filming. They do surveillance and see McVay come out of the escape room exit.”

  “That’s how they entered McVay’s house,” Lockett said. “Keith comes out. Our criminal goes in and waits for him.”

  “And that’s how they exit too,” I said. “Which is why they aren’t caught on any video.” I looked at AJ. “What time did you drop McVay off?”

  “Ten forty-five. I waited for him to get inside. He flicked a light to let me know he was good, and I drove home.”

  Lockett grunted. “There’s no video of you dropping him off alive. And once this new video gets out, what do we have to counteract it? Nothing?”

  I said, “I’ll go to the neighbors, and see if any of them have Ring cameras or security that caught AJ dropping off McVay and driving away.”

  Lockett looked tired. “There’s nothing to say he didn’t just pull into another spot and cut across yards to get to the escape room entrance.”

  I looked at AJ. “I’ll talk to all the neighbors. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and someone will have a camera facing that way. You’d better hope someone does.”

  Lockett said, “Start with the neighbor, the rapper. He had motive and means. See if he’s willing to share. If he resists, maybe that’s telling us something.”

  My phone chimed, and I glanced at the screen.

  AJ dropped his head onto his hands. “I should have told you both everything right away.”

  “Yes, you should have,” I said. “But I get why you didn’t, and it’s a moot point now anyway.” I held up my phone to show him a local news notification. “The media now has the videos and has released them to the public.”

  29

  Monday

  Toby cleared his throat. “Here’s the lawyer, Chet Fuller.”

  He swiveled his computer toward us. A website was pulled up with the lawyer’s image on the screen. I watched AJ for any sign of recognition. Chet Fuller appeared to be in his late sixties with a comb-over, a friendly grin, and a flannel shirt.

  AJ shook his head. “Don’t know him.”

  Using the number on the website, I called Chet Fuller. A receptionist answered and put me right through.

  “Hallo, Chet Fuller speaking,” he said with a typical Midwest accent.

  “Mr. Fuller, my name is Samantha True. I’m a private investigator working for AJ Gunn. You may know his name. He was charged with Keith McVay’s murder.”

  “Ay, yah, I know who he is.”

  “I’m happy to send you a copy of my license for verification if you’d like. I have a few questions that I think you might be able to answer.”

  He was silent, which I took as encouragement to continue.

  “On the night Mr. McVay was murdered, Mr. Gunn drove him to the post office where Mr. McVay mailed a padded envelope to you. Have you received such an envelope?”

  “Why does it matter?” Fuller asked.

  I glanced at Lockett while taking in a steady breath, trying to calm my racing heart and wondering how I could convince the man to share what might be confidential information with me.

  “It matters, Mr. Fuller, because Mr. McVay knew he was in trouble. He told Mr. Gunn that night that what he was mailing you was insurance. If that’s true, then what was in that envelope could actually be proof as to who murdered Mr. McVay.”

  Mr. Fuller huffed. “Well then, there’s the pickle. Because I didn’t see what was in the envelopes. I just mailed them out like Keith requested.”

  “Envelopes?”

  “Ay, yah, inside the envelope to me were instructions to mail two other envelopes should something tragic happen to Keith. Seeing as how I got the envelope after your client had been arrested, I considered that as something tragic happening to Keith, so I mailed the envelopes out.”

  “Might you tell me where you mailed them?” I pleaded.

  “And just why would I want to do that?”

  I glanced at AJ. “Because I plan on bringing this killer to justice even if it turns out to be the guy who hired me. But something you should know, Mr. Fuller: Keith McVay was scared, even paranoid. He had an escape room in his house. Now he’s gone. And you are my last hope of finding out the truth.”

 
Fuller cleared his throat. “I’ve known Keith since he was a little tyke. Was one of his Pop Warner coaches. His dad and I were good friends. It breaks my heart that Keith’s been taken away from us so tragically.”

  “So let’s give him that last word.”

  Another long pause. “He asked me to mail one to that player with the hair—”

  “Roman Castillo?”

  “Oh yah. That’s the one.”

  “And you said Keith asked you to mail two? Were these two envelopes the same size?”

  “Oh yah, two. One was a padded envelope, a smaller version of what I received, and the other was a standard letter.”

  “Which one did Castillo get?”

  “The padded envelope. I sent the other one to his house, per his instructions.”

  I repeated the information for those in the room with me. “You sent the other envelope to Keith’s house in Lake Oswego? That’s odd that he would do that.”

  “Oh yah, it is. Actually, I gave my wife the envelopes to mail. Let me check with her and see where she sent it.”

  “Okay, I can call you back in a few minutes if that’s easier.”

  “Why would you need to? My wife is my receptionist. Hey, Barb!” he yelled.

  I held the phone away from my ear and turned on the speakerphone.

  “Barb, you mailed Keith’s package, yeah?”

  Barb yelled back, her voice more distant, “Of course I did, you loon. You told me to.”

  Fuller chuckled. “You sent it to his house in Portland, right?”

  After a long pause, Barb spoke again, sounding closer. “No, I don’t have that address. I used the cabin because that’s where we sent his Christmas card.”

  “Oh, geez, Barb. I think the letter was supposed to go to his Portland house.”

  “Well, how am I supposed to know that? I don’t even think we have that address. And why would he mail himself something to the house he was living in? Bless that poor boy’s soul.”

  “Oh yah,” Fuller said into the phone. “It looks like we goofed, Ms. True. Barb sent the envelope to the wrong house.”

  Lockett, AJ, Toby, and I looked at each other.

  I said, “Maybe not. Might you be willing to share the address of the other house with me?”

  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. He had a cabin out near Mount Saint Helens. Barb!” he yelled. “Get me the address for Keith’s house.”

  “The cabin or the big one, because I already told you—”

  “The cabin.”

  Moments later, Fuller gave me the address, and Lockett wrote it on his notepad. Then Toby started a search on his computer.

  “Thank you, Mr. Fuller. The minute I know anything about Keith and who murdered him, I’ll call you.” I didn’t bother to warn him to not talk to other people, believing his limited knowledge would work to his benefit.

  I hung up and dropped onto the couch next to AJ, then I repeated what I’d learned to AJ and Lockett.

  Toby’s fingers flew over the keyboard. Moments later, he said, “The house is registered to an LLC. I’m trying to get to the bottom of the LLC, but it’s a deep rabbit hole. Probably why we never found this place.”

  Lockett summed everything up. “So McVay asked this family-friend lawyer to send out the envelopes in the event of his death, and one was to go to Roman and the other to his home in Portland, only it goes to a cabin McVay buried so deep that all our searches never found an inkling that it existed, much less an LLC was connected to him.” He shook his head, looking frustrated.

  I gnawed my lip then asked, “Why Roman? Why not Megalodon? They were neighbors and friends. Roman hated McVay. Is this letter a last dig at Roman?”

  “What’s Roman’s connection to Keith?” AJ asked.

  Lockett summarized the story for AJ.

  “Oh no.” I buried my head in my hands. “This is bad.” I had connected the dots, and the final picture was scary.

  “Sam?” Lockett asked.

  I looked up at him with my palm on my forehead. “What’s the connection to Roman? It’s the Kami Bartell story. Kami Bartell’s college years were ruined by a video of her doing a striptease for McVay. Fast forward to the present, and the sports world breaks with a story that McVay might leave the Pioneers. He’s looking for a big contract, more than the Pioneers want to spend. He knows their cap and specifically asks for more. McVay and Roman get into a Twitter spat where Roman says McVay needs to go to prison, not get a new contract, and he says McVay is where he deserves to be.”

  “Yeah,” said Toby, his tone asking me to go on.

  I continued, “If you think someone might kill you and you think you have proof, who are you gonna send that proof to? The cops? The media? Both of those can be swayed. But if you send it to someone who hates you and the person you’re accusing of being your killer, wouldn’t you send it to that person?”

  The guys nodded, each of them making their own connection.

  I sighed heavily. “We’re up against the worst possible person. He has means beyond what we have. He has far more to lose, which will make him more desperate.”

  Lockett swallowed then said, “You’re saying the killer is…” He shook his head. “This is dangerous, Sam.”

  “Yeah, it’s Austin Strong. And with all his high-tech capabilities, there’s a good chance he knows we know.”

  30

  Monday

  Once again, we were in Precious’s SUV, headed north up Interstate 5 toward Toutle and Mount Saint Helens and the address Fuller had given us. We’d called Precious and told her we’d fill her in on the drive up.

  Toby was in the back, typing away on his laptop. Lady M was hanging out back at my apartment with Lockett, who was doing damage control on the video. AJ was trying to reach Roman Castillo to ask him about the envelope. We had to assume he hadn’t seen it yet because nothing was in the media.

  Toby said, “Honestly, this property owner's identification is buried deep. Whoever handled this did an amazing job. I still haven’t linked it to McVay.”

  My phone rang—AJ.

  “You’re on speaker,” I said.

  AJ cleared his throat. “Castillo says he hasn’t seen it. He says any mail that comes to him at the training facility is bundled up and sent to his manager to sort through. Castillo’s going to find out if there’s anything on-site. If not, he said he would fly to his manager, who lives in Texas, by the way, and go through the mail personally. He said he would call us as soon as he found the envelope. I told him I’d call once you all found out what was at this cabin and in the envelope there.”

  We disconnected.

  Precious said, “Okay, fill me in on everything. On the phone, you said we know who did it, and we’re going to get proof.”

  I said, “It’s Austin Strong.” From there, I launched into the story and how I’d put the pieces together.

  She glanced at me, stricken, her face going pale. “Oh no.” She continued to look back and forth from me to the road.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded. “Pretty much. It lines up.”

  Toby said, “Yeah, and now I can’t make anyone else fit. It’s Strong.”

  Precious stared straight ahead. “Oh no,” she whispered.

  “Precious,” I said, “what’s going on? You’re acting weird.”

  Large tears coursed down her face, and I leaned toward her, afraid she might pass out or something and lose control of the car. She was not acting like herself.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “So sorry.” She shook her head and started those calming yoga breaths she always forced me to do.

  “What are you talking about?” Toby asked.

  I held my breath and waited for her to answer.

  In a rush of words, she said, “Austin knows we’re here.”

  “What?” Toby and I exclaimed in unison.

  He nearly came from the back seat into my lap, his bo
dy between me and Precious.

  She swiped away the tears. “Well, not here here, but that we’re driving out to Saint Helens to look for a cabin that belonged to McVay.”

  My mind raced with a million questions. “When did you tell him what we were doing?”

  Toby cried, “Why did you tell him what we were doing?”

  She began to shake. “He asked me out for today, and I told him I couldn’t because we were driving out to Saint Helens to look for McVay’s cabin.”

  I knew she added the repeat because she knew I liked sequential information.

  “What time?” I asked.

  “While I was waiting for you two to get into the car. Outside your apartment.”

  I glanced at my watch and did the calculations in my head. We were about forty minutes away from the cabin. Given that, I figured Strong had done one of two things: either he or a henchman was planted somewhere, waiting for us to lead them to the cabin, or he’d found the info and could very well beat us there. I realized we might be walking into a bad situation.

  I texted Lockett that Strong knew. Then I texted Leo, telling him to talk to Lockett ASAP.

  “Pull over. I’m going to drive,” I said.

  Once we were back on the road, I put the pedal to the metal and raced toward the cabin.

  Toby interrupted our silence. “You know, I feel like an idiot.”

  Precious, who had found her composure, blew her nose then asked, “How so? And for what it’s worth, I feel like the biggest idiot. I was wooed by the prospect of having Austin Strong as a client so much that I set aside my normal checks and balances and opened myself up for manipulation.”

  Toby patted her on the shoulder. “Half my time is spent hanging out in dark web communities. No one there is being real, man. It’s all smoke and mirrors. This whole case has been smoke and mirrors. But that’s not what gets me. It’s the tech. Tech’s my jam, and still… Tech has been all over this. Those videos you got of your family, the videos of AJ, McVay’s escape room. Tech.”

  “We can continue to beat ourselves up, but the point is we’re here now,” I said. “We got here. And Paulie Bea made a good point the other day. He said all the people on my suspect list have money. And money can buy all sorts of things. Like tech. So just because tech was all over this didn’t automatically implicate Strong.”