by Mary Stone
Miguel picked his phone back up, tossing it between his hands. “Well, he does work at an electronics store where he fixes computers. And he’s a hacker. So, yes, I’d say he meets the qualifications.”
With a slight smile, Winter nodded. “What about the profile, though? How do you think he stacks up to that?”
In the silence that ensued, Winter looked over to assure herself that Miguel had actually heard her question. His pensive gaze was back on the windshield as he chewed his lip thoughtfully.
When he didn’t immediately respond, Winter went on. “Autumn and SSA Parrish seem to think we’re dealing with the next Charles Manson. Does Phil Rossway seem like a Charles Manson so far?”
Miguel shrugged. “Hard to say, honestly. We’ve just gotten his mom’s account of what he was like. I’m sure Manson’s mom thought he was great too. We’ll have to wait and see what his coworkers have to say about him when we get to the store.”
“No word on whether or not Noah and Bree ran into him?” Winter veered over to an off-ramp.
Pocketing his smartphone, Miguel shook his head. “Nothing yet. But we’ve had the city cops posted up around his apartment complex in unmarked cars, and none of them have seen anything, either.”
Well, that was peculiar. If Phil was innocent in the recent spree of murders, why would he be so difficult to locate?
Aside from the occasional navigation request, the remainder of the trip to the chain electronics retailer was made in silence. Winter had contemplated reaching out to Phil’s employer earlier in the day, but in the unlikely event that he was at work, she didn’t want to risk spooking him back into hiding. Besides, she found that she and her colleagues received more honest answers to their questions when they showed up unexpected.
After she pulled into a vacant spot near the back of the parking lot, Winter tightened her jacket around herself in preparation for the late morning chill. Despite her best efforts, her teeth were chattering by the time she and Miguel made it to the automatic doors at the front of the large brick building.
The glass doors slid open with a hiss. As the young man behind the horseshoe shaped front desk glanced to her and Miguel, he set down the paperback he had been reading. A glimmer of sunlight caught a silver nametag that read “Brett, customer service specialist.” Brett wore a zip-up hoodie over his company issued blue polo t-shirt. If Winter was in his position so close to the door, she would have seriously considered making use of a cloak or a puffy, down-filled jacket.
The kid’s hazel eyes flicked from Winter to Miguel as he nodded a greeting. “Good morning, folks. Do you need help finding anything today?”
Winter reached to the interior pocket of her black coat, mentally cursing the slight shiver in her movements. Decembers in Virginia weren’t warm, but they weren’t normally this cold, either.
As she and Miguel produced their badges, the young man’s eyes went wide.
“I’m Special Agent Black, and this is Special Agent Vasquez. We’re looking for Phil Rossway.”
Brett’s mouth formed an almost perfect “o” shape, the blood draining from his face. “Phil Rossway? I, uh, I’ve only worked here for the last few weeks. I’m a seasonal hire.” Clearing his throat, he pressed the button on the microphone clipped to the collar of his t-shirt. “Hey, this is Brett, could I get a manager to come to the front please. No, it’s not a customer service issue.” Another slight pause as he looked warily at them. “No. It’s the FBI.”
Though the expression was slight, a hint of amusement flickered over Brett’s face at the response in his earpiece. “No, I’m not kidding, Andi. It’s the FBI. Okay.” As he let go of the button, Brett offered them a quick smile. “She said she’ll be right up.”
Winter nodded. “Sounds good. We’ll just wait up here.”
“So, Brett, you’ve only worked here for a few weeks, you said?” Miguel followed Winter’s lead and stepped out of the entryway. “Did you ever meet Phil Rossway?”
Brett was shaking his head before Miguel finished. Though there was an underlying nervousness in his demeanor, the kid kept his composure. “No, I never met him. I don’t ever even think I’ve heard his name before, honestly. Sorry. I wish I could be more helpful.”
Miguel held up a hand. “It’s okay. Can’t help it if you never met the guy, you know?”
With a slight smile, Brett nodded, looking a fraction more relaxed. “True.”
From the corner of Winter’s eye, she spotted a woman as she rushed down an otherwise empty aisle. Her pale cheeks were flushed, but she forced a smile to her face as she neared the front desk. Apparently, Brett and Winter weren’t the only two who were susceptible to the cold weather. Beneath her blue polo, she wore a long-sleeved thermal shirt.
As she took the last few steps forward, she extended a hand, her wedding and engagement rings flashing in the lights. “Hi, Agents. I’m Andrea Harris. I’m one of the assistant managers for the store. What can I help you with?”
Winter gave the woman a reassuring smile as she accepted the handshake. “Good morning, Mrs. Harris. I’m Special Agent Black and this is Special Agent Vasquez.”
The shorter woman gave them a stiff nod. “You can call me Andi. Come on, we can go talk in the back. The general manager is doing an interview in the office right now, but we can find somewhere to chat back there where there aren’t any customers.”
Miguel shook Andi’s hand and nodded. “We’re just here to ask some questions about one of your employees, Phil Rossway.”
The woman stiffened. “Phil Rossway? Yeah, I know Phil. What kind of crap did he get into?”
Winter didn’t let any of her excitement show on her face. “Why do you think he got into something?”
Andi shrugged and looked over her shoulder. “Well, I’m the one who had to fire him for not showing up to work. Our GM, Chris, he didn’t have the heart for it, I guess. I don’t know why he liked that kid so much.”
They turned to a short hallway, at the end of which was a set of swinging plastic doors marked with a bold-printed “employees only” sign. Just before the entrance to the store’s warehouse, a second door was also marked with a smaller version of the same sign.
As they shoved their way through the plastic doors, Winter glanced to the tall shelving. Pallets of shrink-wrapped boxes were stacked on metal and wood shelves that stretched all the way to the ceiling. In the corners to either side of the door were security cameras, and Winter spotted more of the dark bubbles at regular intervals throughout the space. The sheer number of security cameras explained why the merchandise was kept behind an unlocked door. During the busy holiday season, Winter could only imagine the hassle that a locked warehouse door would cause.
The doors swung closed behind them, blocking out the din of the televisions and customers. At one end of the room was a wide shelf used for the storage of warehouse tools such as boxcutters, label printers, and even a shrink wrap machine. A door near the corner had been closed, but through the pane of glass, Winter caught a glimpse of a man seated behind a desk.
Before the office dweller caught her scrutinizing stare, Winter glanced to the shelves that lined the wall. Another row of adjustable metal shelving cut through the middle of the room. Even though the second row of shelves wasn’t stocked full of merchandise, it effectively blocked their line of sight to the office. Winter was glad for the relative cover, but at the same time, she lamented the fact that she couldn’t keep an eye on the other occupants of the warehouse.
When Andi’s voice cut through the sudden silence, Winter snapped her attention back to the shorter woman.
“So, what happened to Phil?” Her green eyes shifted from Winter to Miguel and back.
Straightening, Winter met the woman’s curious gaze. “We were hoping you could help us with that, actually. We’ve been trying to track him down and haven’t had any luck. When is the last time you heard from Mr. Rossway?”
The shadows beneath Andi’s eyes suddenly seemed more pronounced as she
shook her head. “I’m not sure. Like I said out front, I had to fire him.”
To Winter’s side, Miguel nodded. “How did he take it?”
Andi shrugged, her forehead wrinkling in a tight frown. “I don’t know. I had to leave him a voicemail and have the termination papers sent to him. He never answered or got back to me. Is he hurt or something? What’s going on with him?”
After Winter and Miguel exchanged glances, Winter returned her attention to Andi. “We aren’t sure. But without going into too much detail, we believe he’s involved in a case we’re currently investigating.”
“A case? Like what kind of case?”
Winter brushed past the question. “What’s important is that we find him. Why did you fire him?”
Still frowning, Andi tucked a piece of dark brown hair behind her ear. “Well, I fired him because he just stopped showing up to work.”
As Andi shifted from one foot to another, Winter knew there was more to the story. “What else?”
Lips pursed, the woman glanced over her shoulder before she took a step closer to Winter and Miguel. When she spoke again, her voice was scarcely above a whisper. “Chris, the general manager for this store, kept making excuses for him. He kept saying that Phil was probably dealing with a family emergency, and he asked me to just cut him off the schedule for a couple weeks to give him a chance to work stuff out in his life.”
Winter lifted an eyebrow. “Did he? Work stuff out in his life, that is.”
Andi shrugged again. “I don’t know. He never came back to work, even after I left him off the schedule for two weeks. Even with Chris basically vouching for him, there was only so much I could do after I left something like seven-hundred voicemails. Corporate audits, that kind of stuff, you know? If we’re hanging on to personnel who don’t show up to work, it’s going to look bad on us. Especially with the holiday season breathing down our neck. We only have so many positions we can fill, and I’d prefer to fill them with people who actually show up and work their shifts.”
Miguel made a sound roughly akin to a chuckle. “That’s reasonable. What about the general manager, then? Chris. What’s his relationship with Mr. Rossway?”
A thoughtful look passed over Andi’s face as she absentmindedly twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “Well, Chris and Phil both used to work at a different store. Chris transferred here around the beginning of the year, and then a few months later, Phil transferred over too. I guess they were buddies before Chris was a manager. Honestly, I’m not really sure. You’d be better off asking Chris about that.”
Winter nodded. “We will. Were there any other employees who might have been close to Mr. Rossway?”
Andi tapped her cheek with a finger. “It might not hurt to ask around, but probably not. Most of them couldn’t stand Phil. Honestly.” Andi cast a quick glance over her shoulder. “I wasn’t the biggest fan, either. I guess that’s probably why I’m not a lot of help, isn’t it?”
As if on cue, the clatter of a door echoed throughout the expansive room. The disturbance was followed by two different voices, one male, the other female.
Brushing off the front of her polo shirt, Andi stepped out from behind the tall row of shelves. Winter and Miguel didn’t wait for an invitation to follow her lead.
The same man that Winter had spotted behind the office desk had paused just short of the swinging double doors to shake the hand of the middle-aged woman he had been interviewing. The corners of his light brown eyes creased as he offered her a smile and a wave.
Andi cleared her throat. “Chris. Good timing.”
Just as the interviewee pushed her way back into the hall, the manager spun around to face them. “Jesus, Andi.” He patted his chest as he took in a sharp breath. “I didn’t know anyone else was back here. You scared me.”
Ignoring the remark, Andi gestured to Winter and Miguel. “These two would like to talk to you.”
Winter reached into her coat and produced her badge. “I’m Special Agent Black.”
At Winter’s side, Miguel flipped open his own badge. “I’m Special Agent Vasquez. My partner and I are with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. We’d like to ask you a few questions about a former employee of yours. Phil Rossway?”
Before Miguel made it halfway through the sentence, the color had drained from the man’s cheeks. His eyes seemed to sink into his skull as he glanced to the door at his back. “Phil Rossway? What…happened to him?”
Winter returned her badge to her coat pocket, but she didn’t let her intent stare waver from the manager. “You think something happened to him? Why is that?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Well, the FBI is here asking about him. I doubt you’d be wasting your time if nothing had happened.”
Winter would give credit where it was due. The man had a point. “Chris. I’m afraid we didn’t catch your last name.”
Another swallow. “Erickson. Chris Erickson.”
Winter gave him as benign a smile as she could manage. “Mr. Erickson.” She waved a hand in the direction of the office. “Would you mind?”
She half-expected Erickson to bolt for the door as soon as she’d finished her suggestion. Instead, he offered a sheepish nod and beckoned for them to follow him. Andi didn’t offer a word of farewell as she replaced her earpiece and slunk back out into the store.
Erickson pointed to the two chairs in front of a worn wooden desk. “Have a seat.”
Wordlessly, Winter and Miguel accepted the offer and dropped to sit.
As soon as the door latched closed behind them, Winter turned her scrutinizing stare to the manager, who looked close to shitting his pants. Though he’d folded both hands on top of the desk, the blood had already begun to drain from his knuckles where he clasped his fingers. Winter was used to nervousness when she spoke to civilians, but Chris was a few notches above the typical jittery witness.
Chris Erickson was hiding something.
Winter scooted to the edge of her seat. “Mr. Erickson, I don’t want to come across as hostile, but we’re working on a time sensitive investigation, and Phil Rossway is a key component in it.”
Raking an unsteady hand through his dark hair, Erickson sighed. “Well, what do you need to know about Phil, then?”
“That’s easy.” Winter’s voice was flat. “We need to know where he is.”
Erickson was already nervous. All she had to do now was turn up the heat. Remind him of what exactly was at stake if he decided to try to cover for his ex-employee.
She didn’t wait for a reply. “Have you heard of the murders that have been taking place in Danville lately, Mr. Erickson?”
He furrowed his brows. “Yes. The victims of the Riverside Mall massacre, right? Who hasn’t? I mean, it’s all over the news and people are freaking out and…” The manager closed his mouth as he apparently realized he was babbling.
Winter leaned closer, taking up his personal space. “That’s right. We think that Phil Rossway has information pertinent to figuring out who the killer is. I doubt I need to remind you of what happens when you impede a murder investigation.”
Miguel crossed his arms. “This isn’t just a murder investigation anymore, though. We’re searching for a domestic terrorist.”
Erickson’s eyes went so wide that Winter worried they might roll right out of his head. “Domestic…terrorist? And you think Phil…my employee, Phil Rossway, had something to do with it?”
As she locked her eyes onto Erickson’s, Winter rested her elbows on the arms of the chair. “We do. If you know something about Phil Rossway, you need to tell us, Mr. Erickson. If you aren’t completely honest, things can get very messy for you very quickly. Whether we have to use a subpoena to compel you to testify or a court order to search through your work and personal documents, we’ll do whatever it takes.”
The office chair squeaked as the general manager leaned back and heaved a sigh. “My god, Phil,” he muttered under his breath. “What the hell did you get you
rself into?”
Winter narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, Mr. Erickson?”
Raking the fingers of one hand through his hair, the man let his head loll back against the headrest. “I’ve known Phil for close to three years. Since back before I was even a shift lead. We were even roommates for a little while. I got him his job at my old store. He’s not a bad guy, and I don’t know what you guys think he’s been up to, but he’d never hurt anyone.”
Famous last words. Winter kept the cynical thought to herself.
Erickson shook his head. “He’s a really smart guy too. But he…has a penchant for the finer things in life, you know what I mean? He wants to live like a rock star on the salary of a part-time retail worker. So, he did what smart kids with no real-world experience tend to do.” As he shrugged, Erickson finally met Winter’s gaze. “He did a bunch of stupid shit to try to make a few bucks.”
Miguel tapped his pen on his notepad, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Such as?”
Erickson shrugged. “I’m not sure, honestly. I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to know. All I knew was that it probably wasn’t legal, and he dealt with some pretty shady people online. Look…I…” Sweat popped out on his temple, “I don’t know if I should even be telling you guys this stuff. Do I need my lawyer here or something?”
Winter bit back a slew of four-letter words. “Our priority right now is finding Mr. Rossway. We’re not looking to haul you away from here in cuffs. We need your help.”
Erickson scrubbed a hand over his face as a shroud of silence descended over the room. “Jesus, Phil.” The words were muffled. When he finally dropped his hand, his expression had changed from haunted to resigned. “Look, whatever he got into, I didn’t have any idea, okay? I still stand by my statement from earlier. He’s not a bad guy. But he didn’t exactly have the best judgement, especially when it came to people he, um…worked with.”
“Worked with?” Winter echoed, jumping on the word.
Squeezing his eyes closed, Erickson nodded. “When he told me he needed somewhere to lay low, I just figured it meant he snagged a credit card from some tough guy and wanted to wait it out. I thought he was worried about getting his ass beat. I didn’t think he was going to hide from the FBI.”