Decker shook his head. If she was going to tread his territory, he might as well make the rules. “Okay, Officer Baccus. If we’re mining the same ground, we should at least have a plan.”
She tried to stifle the smile on her lips. “I want to tell you that if I do find something . . . dicey with my dad, I’m not going to whitewash anything.”
“I believe you.” Decker raised his eyebrows. “Last week, when we came here together, you talked to people at the café. Start there. Maybe if these two jokers came here, sniffing around for Boch and Neil, they bought a cup of coffee.”
“Okay.”
“I still haven’t talked to Olivia Anderson—the girl who dated Brady Neil—because other stuff kept getting in the way. I need to do that. If she’s in today, you can set that up for me.”
“She is in. I already checked. And I will set it up for you. What time?”
“I want to talk to a few people before then. How about eight? After I talk to her, we’ll compare notes and then you can get back to your desk job.”
“Perfect. Anything else?”
“No.”
“Can I get you a cup of coffee, sir? Double espresso black?”
“Stop trying to impress me. You’ve already done that by showing up. And I’m fine right now. Maybe later.” A pause. “Thanks.”
She smiled. “I don’t know why, but you remind me of my former sergeant.”
“We’re both redheads. Or at least I was in my salad days.”
Lennie looked at him quizzically. “You’ve never seen her. How do you know she’s a redhead?”
Decker paused, surprised she caught his slipup.
Lots of potential.
He said, “X-ray vision, Officer. Don’t overstep your authority. I’ll talk to you later.”
Seven-fifteen in the morning and Carter Bonfellow was at his desk, his focus on his paperwork. When his brown eyes lifted, they widened. He lowered the pen in his hand onto his desk. “I was wondering when you were coming back.”
“You’ve been expecting me.”
“I’ve been expecting someone since Joseph Boch disappeared.”
“No one’s talked to you?”
“Not yet.”
Decker nodded. “When we last spoke, you said you didn’t know him.”
The eyes narrowed. “I said I didn’t know a guy named Boxer. I do know who Joseph Boch is . . . was.” A pause. “Is it present or past tense?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Decker flashed him a smile. “Do you have a minute?”
Bonfellow straightened up in his chair. “Yeah, sure.”
Decker pulled up a chair and sat on the opposite side of the desk. Bonfellow was wearing a red polo shirt. His build was square and his head was on the smallish side. With his sandy-colored hair—thin and parted to one side—he looked like a Bloody Mary with a lemon slice on top.
Decker said, “You told me the last time we talked that you were the eyes and ears of the place. I was wondering if you’ve heard anything that might help the investigation.”
Droplets of sweat materialized on Bonfellow’s forehead. He didn’t look nervous, just excited to be included in the intrigue. “Well . . .” Hands clasped together. “I never saw anything, but there are rumors circulating that Neil and Boch were dealing.”
“Okay. Want to tell me about it?”
“You want my opinion?”
“I do.” A thin smile appeared on Bonfellow’s lips. It was probably the first time that someone ever took him seriously. Decker was happy to contribute to his ego. “Tell me what you think.”
“Well . . .” A brief smile. “I think people are nervous. If they were involved in something bad—like dealing—it gives a reason to the insanity.”
“Good insight,” Decker said. “Were they involved in something bad?”
“I don’t know. As I said, I never saw anything. But they spent a lot of time in private conversation,” Bonfellow said. “I remember seeing them talking in the commissary, looking around like someone was watching them. Very hush-hush.”
“Any idea what they were saying?”
“No, but it had to be something intense. They sat in a corner, and every time someone walked by and said hello, they stopped talking.”
“Let me ask you this,” Decker said. “Were there any rumors about them stealing merchandise? I know that Brady used to deal in used electronics.”
“There’s always a junk pile. People break things. Sometimes the store just takes it off as a loss and doesn’t return it. But stealing new stuff?” He shrugged. “I kind of doubt that. They’ve got hidden cameras all over the place.”
“They do?”
“Yeah. Everywhere. And since they were never fired, I have to assume that they weren’t stealing new material.”
“By hidden cameras everywhere, you mean . . .”
“I mean everywhere. And they change locations so the employees never know,” Bonfellow said. “The cameras are meant to catch shoplifters. But I imagine they catch a crooked employee now and then. Lots of cameras in the warehouse and in electronics. But people will steal anything and I mean anything. Security once caught a guy trying to steal a barbell in his rain jacket.”
“How do you know about this?”
Again, he straightened his spine. “I listen to people talk. Plus, I’ve been down in Security when I had to take care of some paperwork for them. It’s on the lower level, but you can only get down there with a badge. They’ve got banks of monitors shooting from every angle possible.”
“Who’s the head of Security?”
“Benton Horsch.”
“Do you have his number?”
“I have Security’s extension. Would you like me to call it for you?”
In the last couple of minutes, the little man seemed to have grown in stature. Decker said, “Yes, I would like to speak with them, but not just yet.” He took out the two sketches and placed them on the desk. “Do either of these men look familiar to you?”
Bonfellow regarded the drawings. “Are these the killers?”
“Just people of interest. Have you seen them before?”
A long hard stare. “If I’ve seen them, I don’t remember where or when. If I could keep these, I’ll look for them.”
“No, I don’t want you to do that. If the answer is no, then it’s no.”
“Sorry.” A shake of the head. He seemed truly disappointed that he didn’t know the men.
Decker said, “Could you call Security for me?”
“Sure.” A pause. “Anything else?”
“Just need to talk to Security.” A smile. “You’ve been a big help, Mr. Bonfellow.”
A grin. “Thank you.”
The compliment seemed to lighten his weighted face.
Decker’s good deed for the day.
Security was a cavern that took up the entire footprint of the store above. It was windowless, overly brightened by artificial light in some places and barely lit in others. Dozens of monitors showed dozens of angles, including the warehouse and the parking lot. Horsch was leading Decker into his office, navigating dozens of twists and turns. Judging from Decker’s height, Horsch was about six two and broad across the chest: a weight lifter’s torso on a basketball player’s legs. He appeared to be in his forties. He had dark eyes, dark bushy hair, and a dark, thick mustache. He wore a black uniform with head of security emblazoned in gold across his front pocket.
Horsch’s office had walls filled with TV monitors that were constantly changing angles. Anyone sensitive to strobe lights would have gone crazy. “Have a seat.” His voice was low and raspy. After Decker pulled up a chair, he said, “What can I do for you?”
“Probably a lot. I have to think this through.” After a moment, he said, “I’m looking for these two men.” He placed the sketches on Horsch’s desk. “These two people are persons of interest in several ongoing investigations concerning your former employees—Brady Neil and Joseph Boch.”
“Got i
t.” He looked at the sketches and shrugged. “I’m here in the bat cave. I don’t do a lot of hunting in the flesh.”
“But you have tapes. Lots and lots of tapes.”
“For our use only. And they’re not typical CCTV tapes. Everything is computerized by dates. It’ll take you hours to sort through one day with all those monitors.”
“We’d start by looking at the parking lot, the electronics department, and the warehouse. I know it’s a lot of viewing, but if these two guys showed up at the store, they wouldn’t know they’re on camera and we could get their faces. That’s much better than a sketch done from the memory of a woman who wasn’t really paying attention.”
“You’re not even from Hamilton.”
“True. We’re from Greenbury. Brady Neil is my homicide case. But I can get someone from Hamilton PD, if you want.”
A pause. “Why do you need the parking lot?”
“I have an idea what they may have been driving.”
Horsch bit his mustache with the tips of his lower incisors. “I have to pull off someone to supervise you. That means I’ll be one man short, and someone already called in sick. I’m down to seven people watching the monitors and four others monitoring the customers in the stores. How long will you be at it?”
“Depends how many cameras you have on the spots I mentioned.”
“Around three dozen cameras, maybe more. Electronics department is noted for pilfering, and we always have cameras in the warehouse and on the parking lots.”
“What can I say, Mr. Horsch. We need to do what we need to do.”
“Call me Ben.” Again he bit his mustache. “When do you want to start?”
“Today. This is a murder investigation.”
“I don’t know if I can swing it today. I have to talk to my secretary about scheduling. I’ll give you a call, and even that won’t be until the afternoon.”
“I’ll take whatever you give me. Thank you very much, Ben.”
“You’re welcome, Detective.”
“Pete.”
“You’re welcome, Pete.”
Joining Lennie Baccus and Olivia Anderson, Decker drank coffee with the women at an orange table, sitting on orange plastic chairs. The girl who once dated Brady Neil was nineteen with poker-straight dishwater-colored hair and hazel eyes. Her complexion was more olive than rose, and she gave the overall impression of beige. She was around five five and stick thin, and it didn’t take long for the tears to come. She dried her face on a paper napkin.
“He made me laugh.”
Decker nodded, giving her a small smile. “Good sense of humor?”
“I guess.” A sniffle. “He just did kinda goofy things.” She stared at her coffee cup. “He took me to nice places. He always paid.”
“What kind of nice places?” Lennie asked,
“Pastamania, Steaks!” A pause. “He once even took me to brunch at the Marriott. We didn’t date very long. He said it wasn’t me . . . that he just had important things to take care of.” Tears again. “Of course, I thought it was me. That’s just what guys say to be nice. But I never did see him with another girl. And Carmen and Rhonda were always flirting with him. If he wanted another girlfriend, he could have had one. But I never saw him with either of them, so maybe it was the truth.”
“I think it was the truth,” Decker said.
Her head came up. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Decker answered. “When did he break up with you?”
“About six months ago. He was still friendly. I kept hoping that his business thing would clear up and we could date again. But he . . .” Head down, back staring at her coffee.
“Did Brady ever mention his father to you?”
She raised her eyes, a look of confusion in them. “He told me his father was dead.”
“Okay.”
“He’s not dead?”
“No, his father is in prison.”
“Oh.” A pause. “Well, maybe it was embarrassing for him.”
“I’m sure it was,” Decker said. “Brady seemed to have zero ties to his dad. Then he started visiting him about six months ago. Any idea why?”
“No. Like I said, Brady told me his dad was dead.” A pause. “Wow. In prison. I did not know that.”
“What else did he tell you about himself or his family?”
The girl thought hard. “Actually, he didn’t talk much about himself. I mean, we talked about work. We had that in common. But we didn’t have these long, meaningful conversations. It was mostly a movie, then a dinner, and during dinner we’d talk about the movie. He liked video games. Does that help?”
Decker smiled. “Everything you tell me helps. I don’t want to get too personal, but were you two ever intimate?”
Olivia pinkened, the first bit of color she displayed. “I live with my parents. He had his own place in the basement of his mother’s house. We’d go there whenever we wanted privacy. Afterward we’d play video games on his iPad or watch Netflix.”
“Did you two ever do drugs together?”
She blushed, the pink deepening. “Maybe we’d smoke weed, but it’s legal now, kinda. He liked beer, but always had white wine for me. He was a real goofaloof, but he could also be a real classy guy.”
“I can see that,” Decker said. “Did he ever take strange phone calls in front of you? Things where he talked in privacy?”
Slowly, she shook her head no.
“How about at Bigstore? Did you two hang out on your breaks together? Eat lunch together?”
“No.” She took in a breath and let it out. “He didn’t want it getting out that we were seeing each other. I don’t know why. Tons of employees hang out. I mean, in this town, where else are you going to meet people except church and work?”
“Did Brady hang out with anyone else?” Lennie asked.
“No, I told you I never saw him with another girl.”
“How about guys?” Decker said.
“Oh, I get it. You mean Boxer. Yeah, they were friends. They used to eat lunch together almost every day. I never understood why Brady liked him. He’s kind of a loser. I mean, thirty-five and still working in the stockroom? Brady was already manager of electronics, and he was ten years younger.”
“He had ambition, then.”
“Yes, he sure did.” Her eyes moistened a third time. “But the two of them seemed to be real tight. Always talking and when I came over, they’d get real quiet. It was weird, but sometimes opposites attract. Like me and my friend Grayson. I’m fun loving, and she’s, like, really studious. She wants to be a medical receptionist. We’re totally different, but we get along really well.”
“All sorts of things go into making a friendship,” Lennie said.
“Right.” Olivia nodded. “Exactly.” A pause. “I really need to get back to work.”
Decker gave her his card. “I know you have Officer Baccus’s number, but here’s mine. If you can think of anything else . . . even the smallest thing, let me know.”
“Brady liked M&M candy. Does that count?”
“Sure.” Decker showed her his notepad. “See? I wrote it down.”
Olivia got up and attempted a smile. It came out as a sour aftertaste. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“Sure. And feel free to call me any time.”
“Find the guy who did this.”
“That’s my goal, Olivia, that’s my goal.”
Walking out to the parking lot, Lennie said, “She didn’t tell us much.”
“Nothing important,” Decker said. “But she did reinforce the timeline. Six months ago, Brady Neil dropped her and started visiting his father. She said he was busy with something. It all fits. He was on a mission.”
“What do you think it was? Clearing his dad?”
“Maybe. But that wasn’t going to happen. It doesn’t matter if Gratz or Masterson pulled the trigger or not. The Levines died as a result of the robbery. Brandon and Kyle are responsible for the deaths.”
“But if they
didn’t shoot them, it means the actual shooters got away.” She laughed. “How profound, Officer Obvious.”
Decker smiled. “Obvious, but correct.”
“What did you find out from Bonfeller?”
“Bonfellow. I found out that the store has hidden security cameras all over the place. And that’s all I’m going to say since you’re not officially part of the investigation.” When she rolled her eyes, Decker said, “Stop that. You’re lucky I’m not reporting you to your dad.”
“As if.” She stopped in front of her car. “This is me.” She punched in her code on the driver’s door. But instead of disarming the car, she turned on the alarm. “WTF? That’s so weird.”
“What is?”
She punched in the code again. “I know I put the alarm on. I’m supercareful, especially after what happened at my apartment.” She reached for the door handle, but Decker stopped her. He gave her his handkerchief.
“Just in case there are prints.”
“Right.” She opened the door. The glove compartment was wide open. Her owner’s manual, maps, flashlight, and sunglasses were spilled onto the floor. “God, they weren’t even trying to be subtle.”
“They must have been following you.” He was irritated. “Didn’t you notice anything?”
“No, I didn’t notice anything. And I looked, I swear it. I really, really look around.”
“Sorry.” Decker took a deep breath and let it out. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of being sloppy. They must be real pros.”
“This is awful.” She started to bite her thumbnail but then stopped. “They have the Levine files. What could they possibly be looking for now?”
Decker just shook his head. He had some ideas, but he was confused as well.
She clicked her nails. “I suppose you’re going to call the police.”
“We are the police. But if you’re asking if I’m calling up Tran and Smitz, the answer is yes. They have to be notified because I want Hamilton’s Scientific Investigative Division to go over the car. Let me think for a moment. I’ve got to figure this out.”
“Sure.” A pause. “You want that coffee now?”
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