The Witness Series Bundle

by Rebecca Forster

  "He wouldn't have been alone, Josie," Jude pointed out sadly. "That's what would have been different. Wilson wouldn't have been alone."

  "He wasn't if that makes you feel any better." Simultaneously, Josie and Jude faced the coroner's man. He had come up so silently they hadn't noticed. "Sorry to break in but there's a kid inside. He says there was someone with your friend tonight probably right around the time he died."

  CHAPTER 36

  "Is that him?"

  "Yes."

  Jude's eyed the shroud that covered Wilson. All plans to move him had been curtailed. Yellow tape was strung across the entrance to the house designating it a crime scene. All the people who had once been there were gone, replaced by a detective, a forensics team, a uniformed cop and a photographer because of this person – this boy – with the long blond hair whose name was David Gibson. His eyes were almost hidden by a thatch of Prince Valiant bangs. He was wearing the blue shorts and white shirt of a catholic school uniform and he had cried foul.

  "I never saw him for real. Think I could look under the sheet?" David asked, shaking out his hair like a puppy in from the rain.

  "Trust me. I don't think you want to see him for real now." Jude said.

  "Let's get out of here. We don't want to contaminate the scene any more than we already have. Come on." Josie put her hand on David Gibson's arm and cocked her head.

  Josie, Jude and David Gibson – CheezeWiz to his friends on the internet – ducked under the yellow tape, walked quickly down Wilson's ramp, went past the magnificent magnolia and settled in Jude's Mercedes: David in the back with Jude, Josie in front, swiveling around to look at them. The overhead light was on. It was warm. It was quiet. David had given his statement to the police, Jude had been questioned because he was the one who found Wilson and now Josie and Jude wanted to hear for themselves what David had to say.

  "I was really freaked. I can't believe he's dead." David head banged to music only he could hear. "I figured something was wrong, but I didn't think it was anything like being dead."

  "Let's start at the beginning," Josie suggested. "First, how old are you?"

  "Twenty-two. I just turned twenty-two." David blinked his liquid blue eyes once then twice as Jude and Josie exchanged a skeptical look. David dug in his pocket for his wallet. "No. I really am. I can show you my ID." He whipped a wallet out of the pocket of his navy blue shorts. "See. Twenty-two. I just look really young."

  Josie checked out the ID while Jude checked out the real thing. Skinny as a rail, as near to emaciated as a healthy human being could be, David was as pale as if he lived in a hole on nothing but bread and water.

  "What's with the St. Paul's polo shirt? The whole uniform thing?" Jude raised his chin and gave the ensemble a once over.

  "Nothing," David shrugged. "I just haven't grown since I got out of high school. I don't want to throw good money away on clothes. I mean have you ever worn this stuff? Catholic school uniforms are like iron, man. The shorts stand up by themselves. I've got three pairs of these, one pair of long pants, ten shirts and a sweatshirt. At my personal rate of wear, the amount of physical activity I participate in, the number of times I do the wash, the pants should last me another ten years if I maintain my current weight. The shirts aren't so good, though. Four years on the outside. But that's okay."

  "And you don't feel just a little strange wearing that in public?" Josie asked as he put his wallet back into his pocket.

  "Ah, you're assuming I go out in public." David raised one finger high, an elfish grin on his face as if it pleased him to stand so far outside the norm. "That's why it took me so long to get here. Since I usually have no reason to go out in public, I have no reason to have a normal means of transportation. It took me a couple of hits before I found someone who would lend me a car. Then I had to find out where Wilson lived and that took almost forever. It was weird. Usually I'm really quick with that kind of reference search, but I think I was just freaked and that's why I wasn't working to full capacity."

  "Okay, you're here. Take it from the top starting with how you know Wilson," Jude suggested, his patience already wearing thing.

  "Geez. Let's see." David put a long finger to his chin while he calculated. "I was fourteen and having some trouble with my calculus. I went online to get some help and there was Wilson. He was cool. Totally awesome. He helped me out with the calculus and then I saw some of his sites and those were so cool. Totally awesome."

  The head banging stopped as quickly as it started but the story was seamless.

  "Then Wilson got me a job testing software and, instead of going to college like my parents wanted, I just work on my computers. You know, I pick up some gigs here and there to pay the bills but mostly I play chess – mostly against the computer. Wilson and I talked when we couldn't sleep. He had it worse than me, though."

  "Do you mean you talked on the phone or on the computer?" Jude was impatient for real information.

  "The computer," David scoffed, looking at Jude as if he was from outer space.

  David pulled back his shoulders, his neck lengthened; he moved his head from side to side.

  "Hey, I really need to get back to my place. I need to let everyone know about Wilson, don't you think? We'll have a wake on-line."

  Jude took a deep breath, the sound of which filled the car. Josie was stunned. David was oblivious. The guy was living in The Matrix and she had thought it was just a movie.

  "First things first. Why did you think something was wrong about how Wilson died?" Josie asked.

  "I was actually testing out a new firewall. You know, feeding in some of my own viruses to see how quick I could breach the thing. Anyway, I switched over to my other PC to check in and see who I could talk face to face. . ." His shoulders hunched once again and the fingers of his hands intertwined.

  "I thought you said you'd never seen Wilson," Jude interrupted.

  "Not in person. I saw him through a webcam. Wilson was mammoth," David Gibson informed them with an astonished blink. "I could see his face and some of his shoulders. I mean those cams don't exactly give you a panoramic view. If you're at the computer you're up pretty close to the camera."

  "But you can see into Wilson's apartment?" Jude asked.

  "Sure. I've seen you a hundred times," David smiled. "I've seen you slip a couple of bills under Wilson's books on the desk. That was funny. Wilson was always so surprised when he found that money. He'd sign off so he could order some of those lemon cakes he liked so much. You wasted a whole lot of money on Wilson. He was rolling in the dough. He contracted with half the software companies in the country. Wilson was a genius."

  David looked at Josie, pleased with himself for a minute before that smile faded and that hair shook again. David's fingers, nails bitten to the quick, clutched at his bony knees. Josie saw the notes etched onto his forearm with blue pen. He was still an adolescent, growing older without a handle on the passage of time, a Peter Pan who lived on the fairy dust of bits and bytes.

  "Anyway, I was looking in on Wilson and I see this other guy in his house. I thought it was you," he gave a nod to Jude, "but it wasn't. This guy's suit wasn't as nice as yours, but it was okay. I wasn't paying a whole lot of attention. I saw his back. I saw him leaning over Wilson's big chair."

  "Could you tell what he was doing?" Josie asked quietly.

  David shook his head earnestly and this time the hair stayed put.

  "No. He just leaned over Wilson kind of like this." David contorted his skinny body but it did nothing to jumpstart Josie's imagination. "Then I see him walk into the other room. Then he comes back again after about four minutes. When that man went into the bedroom, I thought that was strange. Nobody ever goes into the bedroom at night, not even Wilson."

  "And you didn't see his face?" Jude prodded.

  "I told you, it was getting dark and Wilson's camera set up isn't exactly state-of-the-art so the range was limited. I told him he should have upgraded," Dav
id said matter-of-factly. "Anyway, I saw this guy's chin. I saw his shirt, his tie, the suit. I saved a couple of images but I don't know how clear they are. The scary thing is that this guy was working Wilson's machines. Nobody has ever touched those computers but Wilson and then this man just leaned over and worked them like he owned them."

  David sat back. He raised his hands and widened those baby blues and shook his hair out. He was done. The end.

  "How long was this guy in the apartment?" Jude asked.

  "Best I can tell, ten minutes. Not long."

  "Did you hear anything?"

  "It's a webcam not a sound system. We just had the picture and we'd IM. . ."

  "What's that?" Josie rearranged her long legs. The right one was going to sleep. She wanted to get out and walk around but knew the privacy inside the car was better.

  "Instant message," David explained patiently. "You know, real time. We'd type the same way we're talking right now. Wilson always had the camera going with me. He had a nice smile." David shifted in his seat and finally raised one hand to fiddle with the collar of his boy's school shirt. "Anyway, when Wilson didn't come on after this guy left, I knew something was up. I tried to call even though I knew Wilson wouldn't like it. I watched and he didn't even move when the phone rang. I was really freaking. I tracked down his address, I called the cops – and that was a weird experience, man, calling the cops – and I found a car and came here. I only came because I didn't want the police at my place." David wiped the palms of his hands on those made-of-iron pants of his. "It's good to know I'm not agoraphobic or some such thing. I was a little worried about that."

  David continued talking, speculating about his socialization when Josie touched Jude's knee.

  "They're leaving."

  Jude and David Gibson looked in time to see four men wheeling Wilson down the ramp toward a flat bed truck that had just pulled up. A spattering of neighbors had gathered. They pointed and talked among themselves while the men in charge of Wilson's body struggled.

  "Jesus Christ," Jude muttered angrily as he threw open the door.

  Josie let him go. No one could transport Wilson in a dignified manner but Jude wasn't in the mood to understand that as he stormed toward the men. He stopped them and Wilson's huge body tippled, almost falling off the furniture dolly. Two men struggled to keep the body upright while the detective, calm and businesslike, reasoned with Jude.

  David Gibson's eyes widened. He was enthralled with real life drama but content to watch it play out from the sidelines. He didn't really know Wilson after all. He didn't know the sound of his voice, or the way Wilson lumbered instead of walked. David didn't know how gracious Wilson could be or how kind Jude was. Yet, there were some things Josie bet David did know. She leaned over the seat in the Mercedes and tapped David on the shoulder. He fairly jumped out of his skin at the contact.

  "David, can you get on Wilson's computers and tell us which files were deleted?"

  "Sure I could but I don't think that's an option."

  Josie looked where he looked. Other men were coming out of the house, hauling out Wilson's computers easier than they had the man himself. Josie's heart sank. The computers were being confiscated, each one of them impounded. It would be a public servant rifling through the drives to search for clues to criminal activity, not Wilson's friend. Josie wouldn't be the first to get the information on those machines, Ruth Alcott would.

  Disappointed, Josie faced forward, crooked her elbow on the window ledge and put her head in her hand. So much for grand ideas and interesting strategies. Whatever it was Wilson wanted to talk to Jude and Josie about was now lost. It would take weeks, perhaps months, for Ruth to turn over everything she found. With a click of her tongue, Josie's hand fell to her lap and then went to the door handle. She was about to get out of the car when David's head popped between the seats, that lush mess of blond hair hanging over the console as he turned his head sideways so that he could look her in the face.

  "You know I could look on my computer. I mean, Wilson and I, we were networked through two of his computers. I can access all his stuff he gave me from my place. What do you think? Would that help?"

  Josie turned her head, narrowed her eyes and gave David a look of chilly regard for not pointing this out in the first place. The look of disdain was wasted on him. She pulled her lips back. Hardly a smile, more an expression of the effort it took to keep from screaming.

  "Yes, David. I think you could say that would help."

  CHAPTER 37

  Josie was on all fours pushing aside papers and boxes and more paper as she followed the ringing. Finally she found the phone, answered it and listened. A few uh-huhs as she sat back on her heels and the call was over.

  "Hannah," Josie called as she tossed the cordless. Hannah caught it and put it back on its station, listening to Josie talk while she crawled back to where she had been working. "That was David Gibson. He found another sixty e-mails that our mystery man deleted from Wilson's files. He's forwarding them to my computer. Would you go and get them. Print them out and bring them here."

  "I need a bath," she complained as she surveyed the boxes littering Josie's living room. "Archer needs to clean out his garage more often."

  "Archer needs to get home before he can do that," Josie muttered.

  "And I'm beginning to believe we're going to have to hire a staff to track down all these leads," Jude piped in.

  He swung his legs off the sofa where he had been lying for the last two hours, reading through hundreds of leads that had poured into Wilson's computers after he asked to hear from anyone who had been at Pacific Park the day of Tim Wren's accident. Someone had killed Wilson and that someone had deleted any recent communication about Pacific Park – or so that someone thought. The website was still up and running, the chat rooms were still functioning, and Wilson had shared an avalanche of information with David Gibson.

  "Did you find anything?" Josie settled herself in front of one of Archer's boxes and drummed her fingers on the top.

  "Not yet." Jude stretched his arms high above his head. "I'm going to get a drink. Want something?"

  "No. Thanks," Josie said absentmindedly, thinking for a minute before opening the box and digging inside.

  She dropped her glasses onto her nose again as she rifled through a pile of papers. Max the Dog nuzzled her back, got a thoughtless pet for his efforts and moved on. For two days Jude had made Josie's place his own. His perfectly pressed shirts and three thousand dollar suits had been discarded for jeans and a sweatshirt. Colin was hibernating, seemingly out of the picture for good. For Jude it was all about Wilson, for Josie it was Archer. For both of them it was even more than personal loyalties. They sensed they were closing in on something important – something important enough to kill for – and Josie was grateful for the help.

  "I think I've got something," Josie called and held up a report. Jude poked his head out just as Josie put it aside. "Never mind. Just information on Lexi."

  She picked up more medical reports. Lexi. Lexi and more Lexi. Archer had kept everything having to do with her but Josie couldn't find anything having to do with Tim. Finally, she found the billing records from the Greenwood Home.

  "I think Archer just dumped this stuff all together after awhile," Josie muttered, as she looked at the stash. "I don't know why he didn't just get rid of it. Look. Receipts from Greenwood are stuck in with Lexi's blood work reports. There's a menu in here from El Burrito Junior. I swear I don't know what I thought I was going to find."

  Josie took off her glasses as Jude walked back into the living room.

  "You're looking for Tim's medication reports," he reminded her. "I'm looking for something that will tell me what happened in Wilson's apartment. It's all tied together, Josie. All of it."

  He took a drink: scotch and water. He brought his own aged-a-billion-years scotch. She provided the water.

  "At least we know it had something to do with Pacific
Park since only those files were deleted from the computers. Was it the money I offered for information on Tim or something about Pacific Park's other problems that put Wilson in harm's way? It's possible someone could have just taken exception to something Wilson posted on the general website. Whoever deleted those files didn't exactly do it with a fine hand. Anything in the file with the words Pacific Park in it was dumped. I don't know how we'll cull through it all on our own."

  Josie had her glasses back on again. She listened to Jude because there was nothing really to say. She had listened to him read the messages retrieved from Wilson's deleted files. Josie's favorite was from the woman whose son and grandson had been at Pacific Park the day Tim died. They had come out of the bathroom just in time to see Tim plummet to the ground. For a nominal fee, she would be happy to produce her grandson, now ten, to discuss what he had seen. If no money was forthcoming the woman threatened to sue for the irreparable psychological damage caused by dredging up this horrible incident on the Internet where any young, impressionable child could see it.

  They had sent that message to the round file.

  Josie was half thinking about all the crackpots who had responded to Wilson's plea for information, Jude was musing over the sheer volume of information and Hannah was waiting for the printer to stop printing when something caught Josie's eye.

  "Something interesting?" He knelt beside her, and set aside his drink as he did so.

  "Curious more than anything," Josie mumbled. "Look at this."

  "It's a cancelled check made out to The Greenwood Home." There was a shrug of disinterest in his voice.

  "No, look at the date," Josie insisted, glancing over her shoulder, glaring at him with those sharp blue eyes of hers when he didn't get it. "This check was cancelled ten days before Tim died. It was returned to Lexi three days before the accident, Jude."

  "And Lexi probably issued another one. Who knows why it was cancelled?"

  "No," Josie persisted as one hand patted a stack of papers and the other shook the cancelled check at him. "I've put all the receipts in order. They're all here. If a check had been reissued a letter would be generated acknowledging the payment just like all the other payments."