Kari thought about Ben, about his warning that pushing too hard on the Naalnish case had nearly gotten him killed.There was such a thing as moving too fast, spooking suspects before you had enough evidence to actually charge them.
But there was also such a thing as moving too slowly, giving killers time to destroy evidence or claim more victims.
"We tell him we're following up on the vehicle angle," Kari decided."Show him the footage, see if he recognizes the driver or can account for who had access to the SUV on those specific days.Keep it professional, not accusatory.Give him the chance to explain.If he can't, then we have probable cause to dig deeper into his finances, his communications, his movements."Kari checked her watch."Where is he likely to be right now?"
"According to his schedule, he should be at the race organization office by now."Maria pulled up the address."That might actually work in our favor.Official setting, other people around, less likely to feel cornered."
They took Maria's vehicle, driving through Phoenix as the morning traffic built toward rush hour chaos.
"What would push someone like Dalton to murder?"Kari asked, partly to Maria and partly to herself.
"Same things that push anyone.Money, fear, desperation."Maria navigated around a slow-moving truck."Or maybe protection.What if someone threatened something he cares about and murder was the price of keeping it safe?"
The Sonoran 100 office was right where Dalton had said it would be—a strip mall off Camelback Road, wedged between a yoga studio and a nutrition store.The kind of space that screamed nonprofit organization operating on a shoestring budget.A banner in the window advertised the upcoming race, though someone had added a handwritten sign beneath it: "Registration temporarily suspended due to ongoing investigation."
Inside the office were cluttered desks, walls covered with photos from past races, equipment piled in corners.Cedric Dalton sat at a computer in the back, and when he looked up and saw them, his eyes narrowed.
"Detectives," he said, standing."This is… unexpected."
"We have some follow-up questions," Maria said."Is there somewhere private we can talk?"
Dalton glanced toward a small office in the corner."My office.Though 'private' is relative—the walls are pretty thin."
They followed him into a cramped space barely large enough for a desk and two chairs.Dalton remained standing, leaning against the desk in a posture that tried for casual but read as defensive to Kari's trained eye.
Maria pulled up the surveillance footage on her phone."Do you recognize this vehicle?"
Dalton looked at the screen, and Kari watched his face carefully.The color drained from his cheeks."That's one of our utility vehicles.We use it for course marking and transporting volunteers."
"Can you tell us who would have had access to this vehicle on these specific dates?"Maria showed him the timestamps from all three trailhead visits.
"I'd have to check our logs, but..."Dalton trailed off, his expression troubled."We have a lot of volunteers.A lot of people who help with race preparation.The vehicles get used pretty regularly."
"The same vehicle appears at three separate trailheads on three separate mornings," Kari said, keeping her voice neutral."The same mornings that Jordan Rodriguez, Jessica Ramirez, and Jennifer Hayes began their final training runs."
"Well… that's interesting, to say the least."Dalton fell silent, as if his mind had wandered.
"So who was using your vehicle to follow runners?"Maria pressed.
"I don't know."He looked distressed, but Kari had learned not to trust appearances."We don't have a formal sign-out system for local use.People just grab the keys when they need the vehicle for race-related tasks."
"That seems like a pretty significant oversight," Kari observed.
"We're a nonprofit run on volunteer labor."Dalton's defensiveness was rising."We don't have the resources for extensive tracking systems.Everyone who works with us is part of the ultra-marathon community.We trust each other."
"Someone violated that trust," Maria said."Someone used your vehicle to stalk three runners who ended up dead."
Dalton sat heavily in his chair, head in his hands.The gesture reminded Kari painfully of Ben after he'd escaped his captors—someone overwhelmed by circumstances spiraling beyond control.
"I need a list of everyone who had access to this vehicle," Kari said."Everyone who works with your organization, everyone who volunteers, everyone who might have had the opportunity to use it without your knowledge."
"That's...that's a lot of people."
"Then you'd better start making the list."
Dalton looked up at her, and she saw something in his eyes that might have been fear or might have been guilt—she couldn't tell which."Am I a suspect?"
The direct question caught her slightly off guard.Most people danced around that issue, afraid to voice it explicitly."You own the vehicle.You have financial problems.Three people connected to your race are dead."Kari let those facts hang in the air."What would you think?"
