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She was a vivacious redhead with a curvy bust, and I almost took her up on her offer, but instead, I’d left her with a kiss and pat on the ass at her doorstep. Maybe in a different time I would have taken her up on her offer, but not when I was so close to cracking this case.
The only other mention I’d found of him was in an article from twelve years earlier. It was a vague one liner about how he’d been present and was one of the only surviving students of a school shooting. That was it. Outside of that, this guy was a ghost.
Something told me I should count my fucking stars I happened to call in as soon as they identified the victim’s blood. Given the way their family operated, I couldn’t guarantee I would have discovered the name if I hadn’t been an impatient fucker.
I should also be thanking some second cousin for getting convicted of a petty crime this week. His DNA added to CODIS was what led the lab to discover the name of the victim.
Not that it mattered to me anymore, but I’d have to check the records in a few weeks. Curiosity over how much power the Reed family truly had was an itch I’d have to scratch. If I guessed correctly, there would be nothing left for anyone to find. No DNA from the crime scene. No DNA in CODIS, or even a conviction on the books.
All of my sources said that Fletcher Reed was the black sheep of the family though. So, if he wasn’t in the fold, why would he be hanging out with this type of crowd? I’d have thought that someone who wanted to escape the family name would run far and wide to get away from any of their influence. Why not be a school teacher in Fuji or something equally as random? That would certainly put him out of their reach and off of their radar.
Instead, whatever reason put him at Danny Lions’ house that day clearly followed him. The current question was, where was he now?
He certainly wasn’t in his condo.
This building was a modern staple in a wealthy neighborhood. Each floor was separated by steel so in case of a fire, it wouldn’t spread and the building wouldn’t have to be evacuated. As I walk into his condo, it is obvious that someone had that knowledge.
Stepping further into the room, charred objects crumbled under my feet. It didn’t look like the entire place had been set on fire. Only certain parts of it. A controlled burn of sorts.
However, the place had been completely trashed. Wrecked to the nth degree. Were they looking for something? Placing a false trail over the real motivation of this man’s death? If that were the case, then where was the body?
Normally, I lived for this kind of puzzle. The more complex a case became, the more I slaved over the evidence and searched for the thread that would unravel the knot. But right now? When I had a lovely woman, most likely a close accomplice of the Judge, just out of my reach, it only fueled my frustration.
“Damn it,” I cursed, as I travelled through each room. Some walls were charred and some weren’t. All the dishes were broken on the floor and the furniture slashed. Chunks of high-end memory foam were scattered over the hardwood, as if someone was so angry they couldn’t find whatever prize they were looking for they ripped the unoffending cushion to shreds in their rage.
Something just seemed a little off. I couldn’t place my finger on it. I’d need to call in a few favors. Figure out the timeline, dig a little deeper into who Fletcher Reed was. All I did know was this job was completed after Danny Lion’s death. The smoke was still too fresh for any lengthy amount of time to have lapsed.
As I toured the condo, I used a pen to flip some things over, to nudge others, trying to get a sense of what was here. The one thing I didn’t see was any electronics. Not even an old phone charger.
That was very odd.
For a man who was known for his gift with hacking, I would have thought there’d be tons of electronics here. Phones, tablets, game systems, laptops, computers. Hell, even an 80-inch TV wouldn’t have surprised me. Men with that kind of talent lived and breathed technology.
Where was his?
Guest room was clear. It must have served as an office at one point, if the feeble stick of a desk was anything to go by. Still no computers of any sort. Then I went into the master bedroom.
The bed to rival any I’d picture in the Taj Mahal was perfectly pristine, as if the person or people who were here couldn’t bring themselves to ruin such a beautiful piece of art. Because with its carved bed posts and wispy fabric draping over the sides, it really was a masterpiece.
I frowned. Did Fletcher have a girlfriend? None of my contacts said anything about a marriage. Hmmm. With this type of bed, was he gay?
One wall was mostly made up of blackened bookshelves, and I started to walk toward it, then frowned.
The closet and master bath were on the outside wall. This was an interior wall about, oh, maybe five feet from the doorway. Leaving the bedroom, I counted the feet to the next door. About seven feet separated the hall closet to the entry of the master bedroom. Twelve more feet until the guest bedroom door. That interior wall was roughly five feet to the doorway.
Going back to the hall closet, I used a handkerchief to turn the knob. They were outdated, sure, but I never knew when one would be useful. Like now.
The hall closet was completely empty and untouched. It was also three feet deep. Which left about ten feet of space unaccounted for.
Well, well, Fletcher Reed. You must be into some cloak and dagger shit, to have a secret room.Jogging back into the master bedroom, I poked and prodded the bookshelves until one shook loose and I was able to swing it open.
Ah, what a nice room this was. No windows, only shelves and a desk for servers and his computers. Now someone looked like they had a happy little campfire in here with these machines. They’ve been tossed into a broken heap, then torched.
Raising my head, I clocked a fire alarm in the corner, just like I had in all the rooms. So, someone must have disabled them. How had they kept the smell from reaching any of the other floors? Was steel that much of a scent dampener?
My phone rang and I pulled it out to see Lescheva flash across the screen. Smirking, I swiped the screen to answer. I knew he’d come around before too long. After running into him at the last crime scene, I dangled just a big enough carrot to ensure he wouldn’t leave me to my own devices.
“Lescheva, I’m glad you called.”
