It took Nick a moment to grasp what he was saying. “You mean start with Todd.”
Kreskin bobbed his head. “Exactly. We need to look at Todd and see who he was close with. I’m talking really close. He was gregarious and tight with certain people on a superficial level, but he only let a few people see the real him.”
“That’s actually smart.” John shifted in his chair and faced his laptop. “I wonder if his Facebook page is still live.”
“It is and I have the log-in information so we can access it even though he only allows certain people to see the things he posts,” Kreskin said. “During our investigation, Facebook gave us access to the page. I still have it.”
“Have you looked since all this started?”
“No. I’m kicking myself for not doing that, though. Winthrop is totally the type to keep up his Facebook page from jail. The inmates get computer time. We should’ve been monitoring that.”
“Yeah, well, live and learn.” Nick watched as Kreskin provided the log-in information to his brother and rested his hip on the desk as he watched the action on the computer screen.
“And look at that,” John murmured, his eyes gleaming. “You’re right, Dale. He has been posting from prison. Once a week, like clockwork. Wednesdays must be his internet day.”
“And Wednesday was yesterday,” Nick mused. “What did he write?”
“Well, let’s see.” John narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward. “It seems that he’s looking forward to his trial. He believes he’ll get off because he’s innocent. He’s upset the police framed him to protect one of their own, but he’s willing to put that behind him. He has a few plans for when he gets out of jail.”
“I want to break his neck,” Nick hissed.
John barreled forward as if he hadn’t heard the threat. “He writes about life behind bars, working out, his plans to conquer the business world when he gets out.”
“Go back,” Nick suggested, an idea forming. “Go back to about three months before Sarah Alden was killed. Show me what he had going back then.”
“We already checked that,” Kreskin reminded him. “Back when we were putting together the information for the prosecutor’s office, we looked at his Facebook page.”
“I know that. I’ve forgotten quite a bit of it, though, and I want to see if I can remember.”
“I kind of have, too.”
It took John a few minutes to navigate to the correct spot on the timeline. The first photo he pulled up was one of Henry. “It looks like he was promoting his uncle’s business, telling anyone who was interested they could head out to the greenhouse for all their landscaping needs.”
“Even though I think Todd’s about the worst kind of slime that there is, I don’t think there’s necessarily anything wrong with that,” Kreskin hedged. “If I had a family member who owned a business like that, I would occasionally promote it, too.”
“Yeah, but I never got the feeling that Henry and Todd were all that close,” Nick said. “Henry isn’t upset because he thinks Todd is innocent. He says that, but underneath, the feeling I get is that Henry is upset because Todd made him look bad. He doesn’t like the notoriety that goes along with Todd’s deeds.”
“That’s a good point,” Kreskin agreed, his brow furrowing as he watched John scroll through posts. “Wait.” He jabbed out a finger. “Go back.”
“Where?” John asked, confused.
“Go back to the photo that looked as if it was taken on a golf course.”
John did as instructed. “This? It looks as if it was at some charity golf event.”
“Yeah, for the prosecutor’s office,” Kreskin murmured. “Look at that foursome.”
Nick followed his partner’s gaze, his heart skipping a beat when he realized exactly what he was looking at. “That’s Daniel Smith.”
“Why is that important?” John asked.
“He’s the prosecutor on Todd’s case.”
“Oh.” Confusion washed over John’s features. “I didn’t think prosecutors were supposed to take on cases when they had ties to a defendant.”
“They’re not,” Nick said. “In fact, I think that’s a big no-no.”
“We don’t technically know they had ties,” Kreskin argued. “That was one golf outing. Maybe that’s the extent of their relationship. Although ... .” He trailed off.
“Although what?” Nick was instantly alert.
“Sam Heaton is also part of that particular foursome,” Kreskin supplied. “He’s Todd’s defense attorney. That seems a little weird to me. I don’t suppose you can dig deeper, can you, John? I want to know if you can find any ties between these guys other than this one golf outing.”
“I can look.” John was amiable to the suggestion. “What do you think you’re going to find, though? Heaton and Smith are both older than Todd. They’re not going to have ties that date back to high school or anything.”
“No, but they might have bonded for another reason.” Kreskin was thoughtful. “I’m going to place a call to a guy I’m tight with in the prosecutor’s office. I’m curious if Smith disclosed his relationship with Winthrop. If he didn’t, that could trigger a mistrial. You would think he’d know that.”
“You would think,” Nick murmured. “Make the call. We’ll see what we can find here.”
“I’m on it.”
Eighteen
“I don’t get it.”
Nick was sincerely baffled as he looked at the pages John printed, each one showing a specific memory from Todd’s Facebook page.
“I’m not sure I get it either,” Kreskin said, his expression hard to read as he stared at a photo that showed the three men at an outdoor event together from two years before. “They were a lot closer than anyone realized.”
“How come this didn’t come up a year ago?” John queried, legitimately curious. “Why didn’t you guys question Heaton and Smith then?”
“That’s a good question.” Nick felt sick to his stomach as he looked at his partner. “Why didn’t we?”
“Because I don’t think those posts were there then,” Kreskin replied without hesitation. “I would’ve remembered them.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I might not have remembered Heaton because I didn’t know who he was other than an occasional face at a festival until Winthrop’s trial,” Kreskin conceded. “I knew Smith back then, though. I would’ve questioned the photos if I saw them.”
“But ... how could they be there now, in the appropriate place in the timeline, and not have been visible back then?”
“That’s easy enough to answer,” John replied, his eyes keen with interest. “Look here.” He pointed at the computer screen. “Technically Winthrop didn’t post these updates. Heaton and Smith did. Todd was simply tagged in the posts. I’m betting they made them private, or untagged Todd as soon as news about his arrest hit the news.”
“I still don’t understand,” Nick hedged.
“No one wanted to be associated with Todd back then,” John explained. “I remember the news coverage. There was a photo of Maddie, who looked like a freaking angel. I wasn’t even aware she was back at that point until I saw the photo. Then there was the story about Todd and Dustin stalking her in the woods. A lot of people were up in arms.”
“I still don’t understand.”
John let loose a dramatic sigh that only an older brother could muster. “You’re slow. I tried to get Mom to get you special help when you were a kid, but she obviously fell down on the job.”
Nick scowled. “Do you think that’s funny?”
John’s eyes twinkled. “Yes.”
“Well, I don’t.”
Kreskin placed a warning hand on John’s shoulder before the older Winters brother could completely derail the conversation. “John, explain it to both of us as if we’re five. I’m not sure I understand either.”
The exaggerated expression that rolled over John’s face was almost amusing. Nick was so agitated, though, he
refused to laugh.
“Fine.” John held up his hands in capitulation. “Basically these posts were made several months before Winthrop was arrested for attacking Maddie and killing Sarah Alden. Smith and Heaton made the posts, though, and tagged Winthrop. What that means is they controlled the posts, but they also showed up on Winthrop’s timeline.
“After everything came out about Todd, Heaton and Smith either hid the posts or made them private,” he continued. “Their status now is public so anyone can see them. Their statuses before were probably private, which meant we couldn’t see them if we weren’t given special privileges.”
“Okay. I think I’m following you.” Nick folded his arms across his chest. “Why would they make the photos public now?”
“I have no idea.” John was sincere. “It seems like a bad idea to me unless ... .” He trailed off, something occurring to him.
“What?” Nick was instantly alert as he straightened. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we need to go back to each individual photo,” John muttered, distracted. “We didn’t look at the comments, just the photos and ... yeah, look at this.” He pointed toward the top of one of the photos. “This isn’t public.”
“Then how are we seeing it?” Kreskin challenged. “You told me that we couldn’t see it if it wasn’t public. You said it not five minutes ago.”
“I know, but I was mistaken.” John tugged on his limited patience. “They’re not public. They’re private messages shared with specific individuals. In this case, the photos were opened up again, but to only three people.”
“Heaton, Smith, and Winthrop,” Nick deduced.
“You’ve got it.”
“But ... why?” Nick’s mind was working fast and furious. “Why would they do something like that ... and why can we see it now?”
“Because the photos were hidden and private before,” John answered, doing his best to explain things for his technology-challenged brother. When it came to a flat-screen television, Nick was a whiz. Computer stuff wasn’t his forte, though. “Right after Todd was arrested, it made sense for them to hide their ties to him because both had important jobs. They probably wanted to sit back and watch the situation, see what happened after the long haul.
“At some point they made the photos private for three people ... and it looks as if there are numerous comments on each photograph,” he continued. “Look at that. It’s a private conversation by Heaton, Smith, and Winthrop. It was on the photos they hid from everyone but themselves.”
“But ... we’re seeing them,” Nick pointed out.
“Because we’re technically logged in as Winthrop,” Kreskin offered. “That’s the key thing that was provided to us. We logged in as Winthrop so we could see his private messages. The bypass key is still active, but we stopped looking months ago.”
“I’m sure the three of them were counting on that,” John said, his eyes busy as he scanned the comments on the photos.
“Why would you go back after the fact?” Kreskin asked. “They hid the photos but now they’re visible again. That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”
“So what do the messages say?” Nick asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. “And, not that I want you to think I’m dumb again or anything, but how would Todd know to go back and look for the photos?”
“That’s a good question. I don’t know. Maybe Heaton told him when he officially took him on as a client.”
“Ah.” Nick bobbed his head. “That makes sense. I didn’t even think about that. Heaton has been doing that weasel lawyer thing where he says he took on a client because he believes in his innocence but that was probably always the plan.”
“Hold up.” Kreskin raised his hand to cut off whatever John was about to say next. “Are you suggesting that Heaton and Smith are somehow involved in all of this?”
“Why not?” Nick challenged. “Maybe we were wrong a year ago. Maybe it wasn’t two people working together, but four.”
“Then why weren’t Smith and Heaton in the woods with Winthrop and Dustin?”
“Maybe they thought it was too much of a risk,” John suggested. “Or maybe Todd didn’t inform them what he had planned. Maybe he did inform them, they told him not to do it because it would bring too much heat, and he did it anyway. There are a bunch of possibilities out there.”
“I hate to admit it, but it kind of makes sense.” Kreskin rubbed the back of his neck as he mulled the possibilities. “I’ve never liked Heaton, although I’ve only dealt with him on a few cases. To me, it always seemed like he picked the worst of the worst as his clients.”
“Maybe that was on purpose,” Nick said. “Maybe he felt a kinship with them.”
“Yeah, it makes me wonder.” Kreskin moved to his desk. “John, keep looking at the messages and reading them to see if you can find anything good on those photos. I’m going to see if I can find anything — good or bad — on Heaton and Smith.”
John nodded in acquiescence. “Okay. I can tell you right now, they don’t come out and say anything of note on these photos. I think it might be some sort of a vague code.”
“Like what?” Nick asked, leaning closer to the screen. “Give me an example.”
“Okay, I’m watching the time stamps on these things because I wanted to see what they were writing before Shelby Capshaw went missing. Those were the dates I focused on first.”
“That makes sense.”
“Right here, Heaton says to Winthrop, ‘Don’t worry. I have a nice suit for your court appearance. You’re going to look like a businessman, not a criminal.’ Todd writes back, ‘I’m not worried about the suit. What about the other stuff?’ Heaton writes back, ‘I’ve got all that covered, too. You don’t have to worry. It starts tomorrow.’”
Nick pursed his lips. “Was that the day before Shelby Capshaw went missing?”
“As a matter of fact, it was.”
Nick felt sick to his stomach. “I don’t like this. Do you really think Heaton and Smith have been involved from the beginning? I mean ... Heaton I can kind of see. I’ve never liked him. Smith, though, he’s an officer of the court and is supposed to be one of the good guys.”
“What better way to hide what he truly was than to pretend to be a crusader for good?” John challenged.
“I guess.” Nick pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Keep reading. I want to hear all of it. Maybe we can find proof. They’re all so cocky, one of them might have slipped because he thought he was above the law.”
“I don’t know if we’ll get that lucky, but we might as well start.”
“I DON’T KNOW WHO my brother was hanging around with.”
Harris’s annoyance was on full display as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Maddie across the dining room table.
“You keep saying that, but I can’t believe you didn’t talk to your brother at all the year before he was arrested,” Maddie argued. Getting Harris to talk about his relationship with his brother had been like pulling really stubborn teeth. He wasn’t open to the process. “What sort of things did you talk about?”
“Dustin wasn’t exactly an intellectual guy,” Harris supplied. “He never wanted to talk about the books he was reading ... or the latest artistic flick being shown at the independent theater.”
Maddie recognized sarcasm when she heard it. This time, she refused to engage. “He probably saw other movies, right?”
“Yeah. Superhero movies ... and Fast and the Furious movies ... and he was a big fan of any movie a chick got naked in. If the movie had naked chicks and stuff blowing up, he was happy for weeks.”
Maddie scorched him with a dark look. “You’re letting your judgment out to play. I hate to break it to you, but Dustin’s movie habits sound the same as most teenage boys I know. When I was growing up, Nick always wanted to watch action movies instead of romantic comedies. That’s not a new thing.”
Harris scowled. “No one wants to watch romantic comedies.
”
“Nick watches them now.”
“He probably does it to get laid,” Harris grumbled under his breath, earning a stern look and pointed finger from Maddie. “What?”
“Let’s not take it to a crude level, okay? I’m not trying to irritate you with these questions. I’m trying to find out information regarding Dustin’s habits in the months before he was arrested. There might be a hint there.”
“What kind of hint?” Harris was beyond frustrated. “We barely talked. I called once a month to talk to my mother. Sometimes Dustin answered and we would pretend to be interested in each other’s lives, but that was very rare.”
“He still must have said something.” Maddie refused to let it go. “He was working at the greenhouse. Did he tell you about that?”
Harris tapped his chin as he thought back to the time in question. “He said he wasn’t a fan of the manual labor aspects — the lifting, planting, and getting dirty — but he liked the girls who worked there because they always wore shorts and tank tops.”
“That figures.” Maddie shook her head. “He was an oversexed little thing, wasn’t he?”
Harris held his palms out and shrugged. “Like you said a few minutes ago, I’m pretty sure that’s a teenager thing. Hormones are a funny business. Are you going to tell me that you and Nick Winters were so perfect as teenagers that you never had hormones to contend with?”
Maddie’s lips curved with amusement. “No. There were a few hormone issues. We never acted on them, though.”
“Because he loved and respected you even then. My brother has never loved and respected anyone but himself.”
“No one?” Maddie had trouble believing that was true. “What about your father?”
“My father left before Dustin had a memory of him. He never visited after that. I’m not even sure where he is. I heard a few years ago he was on the west side of the state, but I didn’t care enough to look for him.”
“Did Dustin care enough to look for him?”
“I doubt it. Besides, my father wasn’t the stalking and murdering sort. He was the drinking and driving sort. He also loved his pharmaceuticals. He was a loser ... but it was a different kind of loser.”
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