Confronting Castillo at this point without any hard evidence would be fruitless, so Walker had to search for that initial discovery: the reason why Amanda Bryson was targeted — the reason why she had to go missing. Walker remembered that Amanda worked at the Tuition/Student Aid Office, which provided a unique opportunity for her to see financial records. If Lewis was right and Washington Academy was indeed laundering money for Arcuri, it would most certainly move through the tuition office. If Amanda had uncovered some kind of sensitive material, which made perfect sense assuming the suspicious business dealings of this institution, it was entirely plausible that Ellis had asked Castillo to take care of her. Whatever that meant. And so if Walker could retrace Amanda’s steps, follow the trail of what she had been working on, he might be able to figure out the impetus which led to her disappearance.
Walker introduced himself to an older woman, referring to herself as Ms. Watkins, at the front desk of the Tuition/Student Aid Office, located in a whitewashed building near the western end of campus. The polite woman was more than happy to oblige, speaking highly of the sweet young girl that had gone missing, and even leading Walker on an unprompted tour of the entire building.
As they made their way into the last room of files, stacked neatly on filing shelves with color coding, much like a doctor’s office before the digital age, Walker asked, “Is this where Amanda worked?”
“Oh, yes,” the woman replied excitedly, but then her voice trailed off as she immediately realized the reality of the situation. “This was the last project she was working on.”
Walker scanned the folders. “What was she doing?”
Ms. Watkins paused for a moment, appearing to be caught up in her own thoughts, then spoke with authority, as if remembering a directive. “Yes, of course. She was reviewing our tuition records from the last ten years. We are actually in the process of updating our financial records database, so Amanda was going through all of these old files and uploading them into a new online system.”
“Can I look through the files she was working on?” Walker nodded to the stacks on the shelves.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Excuse me?”
The woman smiled politely. “I’d be more than happy to share them with you, but they’re no longer here. They’ve been sealed and moved to a new location. The moving gentlemen were here just two days ago.”
“Do you know why they were being moved?”
“Not exactly, but I imagine it was decided that this process was more economical to outsource to a smaller company. They can typically do it much more quickly and for a lower cost. We actually do it quite often.”
“Do you use the same company?” Walker inquired, intrigued by the prospect.
“Ah, yes, a little firm in Alexandria. Tuition Associates.”
Walker took mental note of the name and would give it to Lewis. Perhaps a shell company for the next step in the laundering process. “Okay, Ms. Watkins, thank you so much for your time.”
“Of course, Mr. Walker. But you can still search those records if you’d like.”
“Pardon?”
“They haven’t been sent to Tuition Associates yet. They’ve only been moved temporarily to a storage facility on campus,” the woman said, blissful in her ignorance.
“Do you know where?” Walker said excited.
“Absolutely. I can show you. They will be a little hard to sort through, but perhaps you could still find what you’re looking for. But of course, you will need Mr. Castillo to assist you. There’s no key card at the storage unit. It’s an old fashioned lock and key.”
Of course it is. “That would be great,” Walker replied.
“I can call Mr. Castillo for you right now.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll be meeting him in a few minutes anyway,” Walker lied.
“Very well. Then I’ll just show you where to go,” she said, pointing back to the front lobby, where Walker had seen a campus map under a plate of glass on the counter.
“Just one final question,” Walker said, as the two started to exit the room. “Who told you to move these records?”
Ms. Watkins turned to him and chuckled as if the answer was blatantly obvious. “The same person who always handles these records. Dr. Ellis, of course.”
Chapter 25
The storage facility was a short walk from the Tuition/Student Aid Office, located on the edge of campus just below the crest of a hill. It was a small, wooden shed — its light red paint flaking off its aged barn boards — and the only dilapidated structure Walker had yet seen on campus. Glancing back, he could no longer see the campus, but was instead surrounded by the thick woods which encircled the school. All was quiet.
He knew he needed Castillo to enter the facility, but emboldened by his most recent discovery, Walker decided to have a look for himself. Perhaps there was a way inside without the security chief at his side. If he did ask Castillo, he was sure it would take a full day to arrange, and by that time, there would certainly be no documents of any interest remaining in the storage shed when they finally entered.
The building’s wooden structure had been worn down and not recently repaired, but the door looked relatively new, and just as Ms. Watkins had noted, it was secured by a silver-colored lock. No keycard here. But as Walker moved closer to the entrance, preparing to look for other possible entry points, he noticed that the traditional lock, hanging on a metal clasp attached to the door, was not closed.
Walker instinctively paused and looked around. Had someone forgotten to lock it? Or was someone inside? He removed the lock from the clasp, laid it gently on the ground, and pushed on the door. The hinges creaked as it swung open. Walker entered and intently scanned the small space, adjusting his eyes for the low light. There were no visible light fixtures or switches in the cramped space, so the only source of illumination was from the natural light through the open door.
There was a narrow passageway through the middle of the shed, buffeted on both sides by several columns of boxes stacked to the ceiling. Each box was the same size and labeled with a white tag on the front. Upon closer inspection of a box near the entrance, Walker could see that the label denoted the department from which the case had originated. This was obviously the storage location for all of the old paper files from the school, including the tuition records destined for Tuition Associates and their digital database.
Walker made his way through the gauntlet of boxes, peering at the various containers as he made his way through the stacks. He didn’t exactly know what he was looking for, didn’t think he would actually make it inside this space, but now that he was here, he was curious as to what it contained. Because of the darkened space, Walker needed to squint to read the labels on the boxes.
As Walker neared the rear of the building, he heard a slight rumble to his right, immediately followed by a cascade of boxes from one of the columns. The boxes were filled with documents, and made of thick cardboard, so they crashed upon his back and shoulders, pushing him to the hard ground. More boxes pummeled him as he lay there. Struggling to free himself from the avalanche of boxes and lift himself from the floor, Walker heard a rapid echoing of footsteps as they moved away from him. Pushing a box to clear his view, he saw a figure, dressed in jeans and a hoodie race to the front door, exit, and slam it behind him.
Next, he heard the familiar snap of a lock. The lock he had left outside had just been used to barricade the door. Then Walker heard something else, something far more sinister, followed by a distinctive smell. Craning his head toward the spot where the column of boxes had crumbled, Walker saw that it was now replaced by a flickering orange flame and a rising line of smoke. The acrid smell of burning paper and cardboard immediately filled his nostrils, followed by his mind’s anxious realization that a fire had been set to the boxes.
Walker shoved the last of the boxes from atop his body and stood amongst the garbage heap of cardboard, feeling the aches from the bruises on his neck and shou
lders. He stumbled through the fallen boxes toward the door, knowing full-well it was locked, but pushing on it anyway with his already aching shoulders. It didn’t budge. Walker turned from the door to see the fire spreading rapidly and the room quickly filling with thick black smoke. Burning paper and cardboard — much different than a piece of firewood — produced a dark, dense smoke that would engulf the entire inside of the shed within minutes. And Walker with it.
Scanning the room for another exit, behind the fallen timber of boxes, he could see a window with one pane of old glass. But the fire was building rapidly and had already reached the bottom layer of that window. Turning his attention to the opposite side of the shed, he assumed there would be another similar window directly across from the other. He hoped he was right.
Immediately moving to that section of boxes, Walker pushed the lower ones until the column collapsed, some boxes bouncing across the center, becoming fuel for the ever-expanding fire. Sure enough, a window was there. He moved several more rows of boxes, flinging them into the fire, and formed a makeshift staircase to the window. The smoke was thickening as it filled the interior of the shed and started to block out the window. Walker pulled his shirt up over his mouth but the ash and soot were already blinding him and he instinctively coughed as the smoke entered his lungs. He knew he didn’t have much time.
He climbed to the window and banged on it with his hand, but the glass was thick and sturdy. He pounded again, but the window refused to break. Finally, as he struggled to hold his breath in the suffocating smoke, Walker forced his elbow through the glass. The center of the window cracked and then shattered. Walker used his elbow, blood seeping through his shirt, to remove the remaining shards of glass and pushed his head out of the window.
Walker gulped in the fresh air with long deep breaths like a stranded castaway finding fresh water as the smoke billowed from the broken window and encircled him. The window was just large enough, so he lifted himself up and pushed out of the window as the flames ignited the first boxes on this side of the shed.
Tumbling as he fell, Walker landed hard on his back about six feet below. The force of the impact took his breath away, but expelled the dirty air from his lungs. He instinctively coughed, both from the smoke inhalation and the pain he now felt in his chest. Although soot was smudged on his face and eyelids, Walker could see the flames above start to escape from the window and curl into a hand-like motion, its fingers gripping the surrounding walls. Dark smoke now engulfed the shed, until it was barely visible, wafting up through the branches and leaves of the overhead trees.
Staring at the burning shed, Walker knew that whatever evidence might have been locked away in that storage facility was gone. He was simply lucky he wasn’t also a casualty of the fire. Although he had indeed contemplated dying many times, this wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to go out. At least not now, knowing he was perhaps Amanda’s only chance. He hadn’t felt a sense of value in a long time, but at this moment, he was glad to be alive. It felt good. His body did not, however, so Walker collapsed back onto the ground and savored the fresh air as he could hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance.
Chapter 26
Walker rested on the rear bumper of the ambulance, breathing oxygen through a mask, his face covered in black smudges of ash and soot. The ambulance had pulled onto the grass just at the crest of the hill, parked alongside the two fire engines that had arrived at the scene. A crowd of students had also gathered on the hillside, pulling out their phones to snap pictures or record video of the exciting event, and campus police officers had been stationed on the ridge to keep the onlookers at bay.
The fire had been extinguished, but there was essentially nothing left of the storage shed except for a skeleton of timbers and piles of wet burnt paper. The shed still smoldered as firefighters sifted through the ruins to ensure nothing was going to start up again since the entire shed was literally a tinderbox.
Walker stared hopelessly at the storage shed, his breath clouding the oxygen mask with each exhale. Any evidence that might have been there was now ash. He was lucky to be alive. That deadly smoke could have incapacitated him within minutes, and he would have been dead long before help arrived. Whoever set that fire had either wanted to destroy the evidence inside or kill him. Perhaps both.
He had told the campus police what he could remember about the suspected arsonist, but even he realized he was a terrible witness. The vague description of the nondescript person he saw running away from under a pile of boxes did not instill confidence in the note-taking officer. And of course, there were no cameras back here. Then again, maybe there were, but only Castillo would know what those cameras may have seen, and Walker would never be permitted to view that footage. It was hard to believe, but things may have just gone from bad to worse.
A friendly face appeared around the corner of the ambulance, and Walker smiled as Meredith sat down next to him. She looked at the smoking ruin before them. “I understand you wanted to make an impression while you’re here, but did you really have to burn the place down?”
Walker laughed into his oxygen mask, immediately triggering a guttural cough, which lasted for a few seconds.
Meredith put her arm around him. “I’m sorry. The last thing I want to do is kill you after you were able to survive this. Please don’t tell me you were inside.”
Walker simply nodded.
“Oh, my God, Ryan,” Meredith said, exasperated. “Why don’t I help get you back to your place, so you can get cleaned up and tell me what you were doing down here?”
He smiled through the oxygen mask.
As Walker strained to lift himself up and pull the mask from his face, Joaquin Castillo strided over to the ambulance. Both Walker and Meredith paused as he approached and returned to their seats on the bumper of the rescue vehicle. Castillo did not look pleased.
“Mr. Walker,” Castillo said, harshly rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and breathing deeply. “You’ve caused quite a little mess down here.”
“I didn’t actually cause the mess. I didn’t set the fire.”
“But my officers tell me you were inside, were you not?”
“I was, but…”
“Then how do I know you didn’t set the fire?” Castillo interjected.
Walker glared at Castillo. “You think I set a fire inside that shed while I was inside that shed?”
“I don’t know what you’re capable of anymore, Mr. Walker. First, I find you in a secure area of our surveillance center, and now I find you covered with soot after you were somehow involved in the destruction of one of our buildings.”
Walker shook his head while Meredith just stared at the ground.
“How did you even get inside the shed? The closed lock is still secured to the door.”
“It was unlocked when I arrived.”
Castillo broke into laughter, and Walker suddenly realized how preposterous it sounded.
“It was unlocked? How convenient. Then how do you think it became locked again?”
“Whoever attacked me locked it when they ran out.”
Castillo smirked sarcastically. “Really? Please tell me about this attacker.”
Walker lowered his head. “I can’t. I didn’t get a good look at him. I was under boxes, remember? He was wearing jeans and a hoodie.”
“He? You sure it was a male?”
“No.”
“How about a physical description?” Castillo rattled off the attributes. “Approximate height, weight, age, hair color, race? Anything?”
Walker just shook his head, unable to answer any of the questions.
Castillo stared at Walker and shook his head. “Get out of here. Go get cleaned up. I’m going to be here for a while cleaning up this mess, so our little investigation is put on hold for right now. I’ll contact you when I’m done. And from now on, you don’t go anywhere on this campus without me. Is that understood? Why don’t you do us all a favor and stay in your resid
ence for a while? It seems like that’s the only way you’re going to stay out of trouble.”
Chapter 27
After a well-deserved shower and change of clothes, Walker stepped out into the miniscule living room of his residence, still drying his hair with a towel. Sitting on the only sofa in the room and flipping through a magazine, Meredith looked up and grinned. “Just like new.”
“I wish,” Walker responded. His body still ached, both from the boxes and the fall, and his lungs still felt heavy from the smoke inhalation. He sat down in the only chair in the room, which was facing the sofa.
“So,” Meredith asked, “do you think Castillo was angry with you? I couldn’t quite tell.”
Walker laughed, but quickly stopped because it hurt his chest to do so.
“I’m sorry again.” Meredith said, seeing Walker wince at the pain.
“It’s okay. I’ve been through worse. Castillo was the least of my problems today. If I hadn’t made it to that window, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
Meredith whispered, “What exactly were you doing down there?”
Walker leaned his head back, covered it with the towel, and grunted. “I was looking at old records. Records that were going to be shipped to a company to become digital.”
“And why were you looking for these records?”
Walker pulled the towel down off his head. “I was trying to locate any records Amanda may have had access to before she disappeared.”
“You think there may have been something important in there?”
Walker took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All I know is that everything I've seen and heard and witnessed so far tells me this abduction was an inside job. Everything points in-house. You don’t have this much security and this much secrecy without finding ways to get rid of problems. It’s very possible Amanda stumbled onto something and Ellis ordered Castillo to silence her.”
The Gilded Sanctum Page 12
