AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Medical school?"
"Medicine, healing. In that game he plays, DimensionQuest, Travis is a famous healer. I'm thinking one of the reasons he protected her was because of that. His avatar is Medicus. A doctor. He feels a connection to her."
"That's a little farfetched, don't you think? After all, it's just a game."
"No, Michael, it's more than a game. The real world and the synth world are getting closer and closer, and people like Travis are living in both. If he's a respected healer in DimensionQuest he's not going to be a vindictive killer in the real world."
"So he takes the fall for Caitlin's crash, and whatever people say about him in the blog, the last thing in the world he wants is to draw attention to himself by attacking anybody."
"Exactly."
"But Kelley . . . before she passed out she told the medic that it was Travis who attacked her."
Dance shook her head. "I'm not sure she actually saw him. She assumed it was him, maybe because she knew she'd posted about him and the mask at her window was from the DimensionQuest game. And the rumors were he was behind the attacks. But I think the real killer was wearing a mask or got her from behind."
"How do you deal with the physical evidence? Planted?"
"Right. It'd be easy to read up online about Travis, to follow him, learn about his job at the bagel place, his bicycle, the fact that he plays DQ all the time. The killer could have made one of those masks, stolen the gun from Bob Brigham's truck, planted the trace evidence at the bagel shop and stolen the knife when the employees weren't looking. Oh, and something else: the M&M's? The flecks of wrapper at the crime scene?"
"Right."
"Had to be planted. Travis wouldn't eat chocolate. He bought packets for his brother. He was worried about his acne. He had books in his room about what foods to avoid. The real killer didn't know that. He must've seen Travis buy M&M's at some point and assumed they were a favorite candy, so he left some trace of the wrapper at the scene."
"And the sweatshirt fibers?"
"There was a posting in The Report about the Brigham family being so poor that they couldn't afford a washer and dryer. And it mentioned which laundromat they went to. I'm sure the real perp read that and staked the place out."
O'Neil nodded. "And stole a hooded sweatshirt when the mother was out or wasn't looking."
"Yep. And there were some pictures posted
in the blog under Travis's name." O'Neil hadn't seen the drawings and she described them briefly, omitting the fact that the last one bore a resemblance to her. Dance continued, "They were crude, what an adult would think of a teenager's drawing. But I saw some pictures that Travis had done--of surgery. He's a great artist. Somebody else drew them."
"It would explain why nobody's been able to find the real killer, despite the manhunt. He pulls on a hoodie for the attack, then throws it and the bicycle in his trunk and drives off down the street like anybody else. Hell, he could be fifty years old. Or he could be a she, now that I think about it."
"Exactly."
The deputy fell silent for a moment. His thoughts had apparently arrived at the exact spot where Dance's awaited. "He's dead, isn't he?" the deputy asked. "Travis?"
Dance sighed at this harsh corollary of her theory. "It's possible. But I'm hoping not. I like to think he's just being held somewhere."
"The poor kid was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Rocking back and forth. "So, to find where the real perp is, we've got to figure out who's the intended victim. It's not somebody who posted an attack on Travis; they were just set up to mislead us."
"My theory?" Dance offered.
O'Neil looked at her with a coy smile. "Whoever the perp is, he's really after Chilton?"
"Yep. The perp was setting the stage, first going after people who'd criticized Travis, then those friendly with Chilton and finally the blogger himself."
"Somebody who doesn't want to be investigated."
Dance replied, "Or who wants revenge for something he'd posted in the past."
"Okay, all we need to find out is who wants to kill James Chilton," Michael O'Neil said.
Dance gave a sour laugh. "The easier question is: Who doesn't?"
Chapter 33
