by Mitch Goth
The following day was just an extension of Kellen's recent routine. Without a lead to go on and with no substantial evidence compiled, she had nothing to do besides sit at her desk and feel hopeless until something new turned up. Time would pass slowly, and every moment was spent waiting for something to come in. Maybe someone had gotten a spatter of new blood, maybe someone found a tire track. But as much as she waited, nothing new ever came. As it stood now, she had just one thing to go on.
The technicians she'd put on the job of going over all the video tapes Ezra Grazer had told her to go through gave her an estimated completion date of that day. Still, she didn't want to rush them through it, and so she sat and burned away a few hours of her morning until she no longer felt guilty about going to bother them about it.
She went through her paperwork, scrawled her way through it all, and browsed past killings that had similarities to the Texas one. It was all just an attempt to buy time. Finally, just short of eleven o'clock, she couldn't stand waiting around any longer. The thought of what might come up in the video, and the thought of this Ezra Grazer never left her mind. She knew if her head would ever be cleared, she had to find out just what story those tapes told.
Hopping out of her desk, Kellen moved fast. She needed to make it seem like she was dying to be somewhere, which wasn't all that difficult a task. She didn't want to be bogged down in any kind of hallway conversation. The faster she walked, the less chance of there was that happening.
The technician's room was far down the hall, which gave Kellen plenty of time to reflect on what exactly was going on. In her mind, the situation wasn't a bright one. These tapes were the only thing anyone had to go on, the only thing that had a small chance of bringing up a lead on the killer. Even still, she did not understand why they were of any importance. She felt kind of stupid just giving them the time of day. For all she knew, this Ezra Grazer could be just another psycho with a tin foil hat. He was in a Texas super-max prison after all.
Still, no matter the source, Kellen needed something, anything, to make her feel less hopeless. Something that could help her do a bit more than just tread water. And so, despite all her apprehensions and reluctance, Kellen kept her gait quick and strong towards the tech's room. She wasn't sure what would be on the other side of that door but she needed to find out. She needed to be sure.
Arriving at the door, she gave it a soft double knock. After a moment, she heard someone mumble for her to come in. She entered into a room rife with large computers, bright monitors, and an army of long, tangled wires. The man behind the screen, a technician named Raymond, turned to look at her through his thick spectacles.
"I wasn't expecting you yet." He smiled through his beard at her.
"Well, you know, I'm just looking to get things done quickly." Kellen shrugged, attempting to hide her anxiety away. "So how far have you gotten through all the videos?"
Raymond sighed, turning back to his screens, "It was quite the task you gave me. I don't know if you know this, but Texas isn't exactly known for its lack of parking lots and campgrounds."
"Sorry. Is there still a lot to go?"
"Not really, I've gone through a lot so far, it was just difficult."
"Anything?" Kellen's hopes were high.
"Well, trying to spot an RV in a campground is like trying a particular piece of hay in a hay stack. It kinda makes you long for the needle." Raymond joked. "The campgrounds were kind of a stupid idea, to be honest, you'd never be able to tell one thing from another unless you knew what you were looking for."
"What about the parking lots?"
"Well now, those are another story." Raymond clicked and typing through several programs.
"You found something? What'd you find?"
"Take a look at this." Raymond pulled up a section of surveillance footage and played it at increased speed. "This is a Wal-Mart lot about fifteen miles from the dumpsite." He pointed his finger at the top of the screen, where all the motor homes parked in a tight, chaotic conglomeration. "Watch this guy." he took aim at a particular RV.
For several moments, Kellen watched the time race by with no changes. The door to the RV wasn't facing the camera, so no one could be seen coming or going. It wasn't ever lit up with lights. No one ever stopped to look at it or pay it any mind. Then, almost out of nowhere, it pulls off from the lot.
"Where'd it go?" Kellen asked.
"No clue, but it doesn't come back. And from what I've seen, it doesn't stop at any other Wal-Mart or campground in the area. And get this, the day this mobile roach factory leaves the lot, is the same day as the disappearance."
"Oh my God." Kellen grew a bright smile. "This is amazing. Do a check on the past disappearances. See if there's anything like this for any of them."
"Already did." Raymond nodded. "Well, two of them so far anyway. Both disappearances were marked by a few days of this RV sitting at a Wal-Mart no further than twenty miles from the pick up spot or the dumpsites. Never is it there over three days at a time. Meanwhile, all the other RV's in the lot are either there for a night, or they stick around for a week or more, most likely living there. Three days is quite an outlier."
"Yes!" Kellen banged a fist on the table in excitement, shaking several computers and knocking a few small electronics over. She sent an apologetic smile to Raymond. "Sorry."
"Here's another thing." Raymond backed up the video again and played it at the high speed. "The thing leaves two or three times." He points to it again as it comes and goes through the video. "All the other RV's in the lot stick around until they leave for good, if they ever do. This guy is the only one that comes and goes throughout the days."
"Staking out a victim."
Raymond nodded. "So there you have it, what's you plan of action now?"
"I'm not sure, but I've got something to go on now. I'll let the local and state authorities down there know. Do we know what kind of RV it is?"
"Well, the video is black and white and grainy as hell, so not really. I can't even tell for sure what color it is. It looks like a mid-eighties one, but I'm no expert."
"Thanks Raymond." She patted him on the back and headed out of the room. "Email me those videos."
Kellen felt her heart beat faster. She had a lead, and a hell of one at that. As she walked back to her desk, she wasn't sure what to do with herself. She wanted to call the Texans about it, she wanted to get that email so she could play the footage again, she wanted to tell her boss the good news. There was so much to do.
Still, one thought lingered in her mind, now more potent than ever. Who exactly was this Ezra Grazer, and how on earth did he knew where to look? She knew that someone would have to go and talk to him about it, find out what he knows and how he knows it. This man, this murderer, broke open one of the biggest serial killer cases in recent Texas history, all from inside a prison. He could have been the reason the motor home driving killer would be caught, and Kellen needed to know why.
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