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“Did you ever show it to anyone?”
“My immediate supervisor. He debunked it, believed it to be an elaborate lie Johnson concocted because of a grudge against his employer. He was a recovered alcoholic and in his youth had served time for committing a series of burglaries. They were penny-ante crimes, but his record brought his credibility into question.
“I suggested we depose him, where he’d be under oath—plus under pain of death from me if he was lying. But before that came about, he was killed.” He moved behind the desk, crouched in front of the hole in the wall, and stuck his arm inside up to his elbow, feeling around. When he stood up, he dusted his hands.
Kerra deflated. “They got it?”
“They got one of them.”
“One of them?”
A slow smile spread across Trapper’s face.
“Where’d you find it?”
Jenks replied, “Behind a wall outlet. Last place I looked.”
The other man pushed the flash drive into the computer port. “Where you find something is always the last place you look.”
The deputy chuckled. “Before I got to that outlet, I had the pleasure of turning the place inside out. Trapper won’t recognize it. Or his apartment, either.” He raised his glass of whiskey and saluted his own success.
“Let’s see what we have.”
Jenks scooted his chair closer so that he could see the computer monitor. The files on the drive were numbered, but not named. “May as well start at the top,” Jenks said.
The file opened onto a video screen. The play arrow was clicked on. For several seconds the screen remained black, but audio began playing. It was a percussion beat.
Then the video fade-in showed three naked people on an unmade bed, two women and a man, in flagrante delicto. A ménage à trois to the accompaniment of a monotonous thump, thump, thump.
Chapter 21
Kerra sputtered and then laughed out loud when Trapper told her what the vandal would find on the flash drive. “How many such videos did you put on there?”
“Ten or twelve. But after the first file is opened, he’ll know he’s been had.”
They’d left his office within minutes of Wilcox’s departure and were back in the ugly car borrowed from Carson’s brother-in-law. Trapper was driving.
“I knew it was only a matter of time before someone came searching to see what I had on the bombing and determine whether or not it was cause for concern. In light of this week’s events, it was almost a sure thing. I’d even asked Carson to keep his eyes peeled.”
“T
he file cabinet?”
“All for show. Trash, just like I told Wilcox. It wouldn’t have taken the intruder long to figure that out. I hid that flash drive behind the outlet so he’d think he’d found the mother lode.”
“Genius.”
“Not so genius. I still don’t know who he is, who they are, if there was more than one. Remains to be seen how many members there are in Wilcox’s fucked-up band of brothers.”
“Berkley Johnson didn’t specify?”
“He ‘couldn’t say for sure,’ and he might have been telling the truth. He could have lost count over the years. Or he was afraid to tell too much until he got into witness protection, which I think is more likely. I know he was scared of reprisal.”
“Rightfully.”
Trapper sighed. “Yeah. I live with that every day. I should’ve kept much better watch over him.”
“Blame the people responsible, Trapper. Not yourself.”
