by Ben Rehder
“So Lutz emailed it to her,” I said.
“I guess so. I’m not sure how that works.”
“Me neither.”
There were people I could call who knew a lot more about searching hard drives than we did, but at this point, I preferred to keep the investigation limited to ourselves.
“I’ve looked through her photo library in iPhoto and I haven’t found that particular picture,” Mia said. “So she probably didn’t intend to keep a copy.”
“I haven’t found squat,” I said. “Hungry yet?”
“Getting there.”
“Want me to order a pizza?” I said.
“Sure.”
“Pepperoni and green peppers, right?”
“Ah, you remembered,” Mia said.
It arrived 45 minutes later. We took a break to eat, and then we went right back to it.
As time wore on, I was having to spend more time on search tactics that were less likely to pay off, like rooting through individual folders within the hard drive, one by one. It would have been easy to hide some photos or a document in one of the thousands of folders on a hard drive. I’m sure the forensics technicians who do this for a living know a hundred tricks to find that sort of thing, but I had no such advantages.
I realized with surprise that it was almost ten o’clock, and I was exhausted.
“Maybe we should call it a night,” I said.
Mia didn’t reply.
“Mia?”
“Oh, God, we’re stupid,” she said.
“Speak for myself,” I said.
“I found it, Roy. It’s here in an email.”
I quickly got up and walked into her office. She had been sorting through emails again, and she had one very long email open on her screen.
“When you send an email, it ends up in the Sent folder, as you’d expect,” Mia said. “If you go in and delete that email from the Sent folder, you might think it’s deleted—”
“But it goes into the Trash folder,” I said.
“Exactly. It stays there until you delete it, or until it is deleted automatically after a certain number of days, based on the settings you choose.”
“Beautiful,” I said. “What do we got?”
“Looks like Erin sent this email to a second address she used. I guess she figured the cops would eventually find it if something happened to her. I haven’t read it all yet.” She turned the screen slightly in my direction.
38
If anybody finds this it means something bad has happen to me, and that means it’s time for me to tell the truth about everything that’s gone on, and at this point I have no reason to lie. First off, I had no idea what Boz was going to do. He never said a word to me about it, and then a cop showed up at my door that night telling me Boz had died in a car wreck. I thought it was true just like everybody else. When Boz signed up for all that life insurance he said it was because Tyler told him it was a good idea so that I would be taken care of if anything happened to him. Boz wasn’t always the best husband and we had our ups and downs, but I really thought he was doing the right thing for once. Should of known better.
So anyway Boz supposedly died or everyone thought he did, and then the detectives came around saying not so fast. They couldn’t proof that the body in the truck was Boz, so that meant I wasn’t going to get any insurance money anytime soon, and they started asking me a bunch of questions. It was obvious they thought it was all a big scam that me and Boz cooked up. I know I’m no angle, but I wouldn’t ever do anything that stupid or crazy. I didn’t know what to think, was Boz dead or alive? So then I come home from the lake one afternoon a couple weeks later and Boz is inside the house waiting for me, which just about scared me to death. He had been hiding out at Alexs ranch (Alex didn’t know that) and then he came over here on one of the motorycles they keep out there. So I’m going to write everything he told me and what happened before the accident.
It started when I figured out that Boz was sleeping with that girl Candace that works for Tyler. So I told Boz to get the hell out of the house and he did. After that, even though Tyler isn’t exactly my type, me and him started to fool around. I did it to get back at Boz and it worked. I’ve never seen him so jealous and I decided he deserved to suffer for awhile. But then one night I said something to Tyler about how mad I was at Boz and Tyler made a joke about killing Boz for the life insurance. The thing is, he said it like a joke but I could tell that he really meant it, you know what I mean? I’m not proud of this but I laughed about it and we started talking abnout really doing it, or just pretending we were, like in a movie. But then Tyler came up with this entire plan and everything. He said he would need to sufoccate Boz or use a stun gun on him so there wouldn’t be any signs of what happened after the wreck and fire. He wasn’t kidding! He said we could get married after that and we’d be rich.
So I was freaking out pretty bad and when Boz came over one night with a bottle of Jim Beam I gave in and slept with him and told him everything that had happen and what Tyler had been talking about. I cried so Boz wouldn’t get mad at me but boy did he get mad at Tyler. He was going to go over there right then and kick his ass but he passed out instead. When he woke up he was in a really bad mood but it suddenly went away. I didn’t know why at the time but I later learned he liked the plan too and he was going to force Tyler to be his partner in it. If Tyler didn’t go along, Boz was going to tell the cops that Tyler had been planning his murder. So those two geniusses come up with a plan to dig up a body from a cemmatery and pretend it was Boz in the crash. I truely couldn’t make anything up that dumb if I tried. So they watched the news until some poor guy died who was about the same heigth and weigth and age as Boz. They didn’t tell me who it was, but I know it was out by Round Mountain because they said it would be easier to dig a body up at a cemmetary out in the country.
Then Tyler said there were some other things they’d have to do to fool everybody, like getting rid of Boz’s dentist records. That way even if the DNA tests didn’t match, those tests take a really long time and maybe by then we would have gotten the money and could be long gone. Boz said my Aunt Shelley didn’t know he was the one who offered her money for the dentist records. That part I believe.
Anyway, after Boz showed up at home again, I tried to talk him into giving up and I told him that a good lawyer could probably get him probation for his stupid idea. But he kept hoping they’d pay me the insurance money and then we could take off. He had fake passports for us and everything. He said we’d go down to Bolivia in Mexico like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I told him to remember how it turned out for them. Plus I said Bolivia is a country by itself, its not in Mexico. Anyway, Boz is stubborn and wouldn’t give up and I didn’t want to turn him in and I’ll admit it sounded pretty good to run away with three million dollars and live on a beach. So we kept waiting for the money but they wouldn’t pay it.
Boz and Tyler strated to argue about why I wasn’t receiving the money, and Boz would tell me that maybe it was some trick that Tyler was pulling, like he was cheating us somehow. So I would hear them on the phone yelling, and the next thing I heard Tyler was dead. That totally freaked me out. Boz denied doing it but I didn’t believe him. He would come and go on the motorcycle mostly at night, and he was gone when Tyler died, so he didn’t have an alibi as far as I was concerned.
It wasn’t long before I started wondering what might happen to me. I was the only person still alive who knew what Boz had done, not just the fraud but the murder. I don’t really think anything will happen, but Boz has a temper and I guess nobody expects to be murdered, right? Maybe you’ll find this after we’re long gone with the money, in which case I won’t really care.
One other thing, when Boz and me were arguing about this mess, I recorded a video on my phone and he didn’t know what I was doing. It’s a file on my computter called “blackie chasing squirrel”.
Maybe I’m letting my imaggination run away with me. I hope nobody ever reads th
is, I hope I’m just being paranoid and Boz won’t really do anything to me. But if something does happen to me you can bet it was Boz who did it.
39
Mia finished reading just a few moments before I did, and when I was done, I said, “Wow.”
We had hit a gold mine. Not just evidence that would solve our case for us, but beyond-the-grave testimony against Boz Gentry in two murders.
Mia didn’t say a word, but instead did a search for the file—which was buried deep in a folder we would have never located—and played the video.
It wasn’t a heated argument—just some bickering between Erin and Boz about what Boz should do. Exactly as Erin had said, she had pushed for Boz to turn himself in. He refused. He wanted to wait and see if the life insurance money would be dispersed. The remarks they made in the seven minutes of video were more than enough to establish that Boz Gentry had staged his own death, that Tyler had been his co-conspirator, and that Erin had had nothing to do with it.
We watched it again. I noticed the second time around that Erin had managed to aim the camera at a nearby TV at one point, and on the screen, sound muted, was an Astros baseball game. Clever of her. The game would establish beyond any doubt that the video was shot after Boz disappeared.
When the video ended, Mia said, “That really is remarkable. When Ruelas and his crew find this stuff—the email and the video—will they be admissible?”
“I’m pretty sure,” I said. “Can’t think of a reason why they wouldn’t be.”
I took a seat in an armchair in a corner of Mia’s office, near a window overlooking the small backyard.
“So this case is closed,” Mia said.
“Looks that way. Kind of anticlimactic, huh?”
“Honestly, that doesn’t bother me a bit. Just glad it’s over.”
I was thrilled that we were done, with days to spare before Hannah arrived for her visit.
“From a practical standpoint,” I said, “we’ve got a small problem. We can’t give any of this stuff to Heidi.”
Mia started to ask why not, but she figured it out. “We wouldn’t be able to explain where we got it,” she said.
“Nope. If we give her a copy, she’ll be obligated to tell Ruelas what she has and how it came into her possession, since it’s evidence in two murders.”
“And it’s also evidence of our little excursion inside the Gentry home,” Mia said.
“Right.”
Mia leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Well, that sucks,” she said, “but Ruelas will find the note and the video, and Heidi won’t have to pay the claim. Same result.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said. “Except it’s a little irksome that Heidi will think Ruelas solved it, when it was really us.”
Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
“She might even wonder if it was worth hiring us in the first place,” I said.
“Heidi?” Mia said. “That thought will never cross her mind.”
“It might,” I said.
“Roy?”
“Huh?”
“What random idea is bouncing around in that crazy little brain of yours?”
“Nothing, really. Except, you know, it wouldn’t hurt to let Heidi know the real situation. It would be nice, after all, to be recognized for our hard work on this case. Our doggedness and determination. Our ingenuity. Our—”
“Okay, yeah, I won’t argue with any of that,” Mia said. “But how would we go about it?”
“Seems pretty simple,” I said.
Heidi answered on the third ring.
“What are you wearing?” I said.
“More than my husband is,” she said. “Would you rather talk to him?”
“Tempting, but no. We have business to discuss.”
“Yeah? What’s up?”
I paused for a moment. “I need to speak to you in somewhat vague terms. And it might be best if you didn’t ask any questions.”
“You are being weirder than normal,” she said.
“Thanks. You’ve always respected my hunches, haven’t you?”
“I don’t think we’ve ever discussed your hunches.”
“I had a hunch you’d say that,” I said. “I also have a hunch that very soon—in the next day or two—Ruelas will inform you that he has indisputable evidence that Boz Gentry is still alive. This evidence will include a video.”
“Okay. If he...” She stopped talking. She remembered—no questions.
I said, “My hunch tells me that he wouldn’t have found the evidence without a tip from an anonymous source. Of course, Ruelas being Ruelas, he almost certainly won’t mention that fact. But I figured you’d want to know.”
“An anonymous source,” Heidi repeated. It wasn’t a question. “I hope this hunch is accurate,” she said. Still not a question.
“Rock solid,” I said.
A few minutes later, when I hung up, Mia had a lingering expression of doubt or discontent.
“What?” I said.
“Something just doesn’t feel... finished. You know what I mean?”
“It’s because Boz Gentry is still on the loose,” I said.
“Is that it?”
“He’s still out there, and it doesn’t seem right that we were able to wrap up the case without ever actually locating him.”
Maybe I’m a small person, but when I left Mia’s house, I couldn’t resist making one more phone call. I was gratified that Heidi would know exactly who had solved the case, but I also wanted Ruelas to know. Not just the anonymous tip that led to Erin’s body—he already had to know where that had come from. But I also wanted him to know we’d beaten him to the video evidence that proved Boz Gentry was alive. Why? What did it matter if Ruelas knew?
Like I said, maybe I’m a small person.
He answered with a warm and courteous, “What do you want?”
“I’m guessing you’ll be searching the Gentry house tomorrow morning,” I said.
“What business is it of yours?”
“None, really, but if you get a minute, pet Blackie for me, okay? He’s the barking dog in the backyard. I understand he likes to chase squirrels.”
It was perfect. When he found the video file, he’d know exactly what my remark meant. But there was nothing he could—or would—do about it.
“What the hell are you babbling about?” he said.
“He likes to chase squirrels,” I said. “You’ll see.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Good luck tomorrow,” I said.
40
Things went exactly as we’d guessed, and it was easy to follow the progress on the news. The Travis County Sheriff’s Office searched the Gentry home and found evidence that Bosworth Gentry was still alive. He was also a suspect in the murder of his wife and his former insurance agent.
Further, based on what Erin had said in her note—that Boz and Tyler Lutz had dug up a body from a Round Mountain cemetery—the cops were able to determine whose body it was. Just some poor college kid who had died in a car wreck earlier in the spring.
Eventually, the headlines died down. I never heard from Ruelas. I managed to put Boz Gentry out of my mind and find other ways to keep myself busy over the next few days.
First, I finally broke down and went to a minor-emergency clinic about my hand. X-rays said it wasn’t fractured. Ice it twice a day, the doctor said. Take ibuprofen. And use that hand as little as possible. Yeah, right.
Then I began preparing my apartment—and myself—for a visit from a 14-year-old girl. I wasn’t sure exactly how to do that, but I started by upgrading my cable TV subscription. Was that a mistake? We were, after all, going to spend 30 days together. There would be some downtime. Couldn’t be on the go every minute.
Speaking of which, I’d had some ideas as to how we could occupy ourselves, but now I began to assemble an exhaustive list of activities and events. Places to go, things to see. Swimming holes. Nearby state parks. Barbecue and Tex-Mex restaura
nts. Museums. Art galleries. Horseback riding. Camping. Laser tag. Concerts.
Then I cleaned my apartment. Not just a cursory once-over, but a thorough, top-to-bottom, wall-to-wall cleaning of every square inch. I dusted, mopped, scrubbed, vacuumed, swept, polished, laundered, and Windexed. It drove home the fact that I was an incorrigible slob.
Next, I laid in a healthy supply of fresh fruits and vegetables, plus various juices and soft drinks, and even a few snack items, such as chips and cookies. Nothing too junky.
Finally, I felt I was ready, with time to spare, and that was a good thing, because life was about to take an unexpected turn.
Every so often, my mind would wander to Zeke Cooney. I was still hoping I might be able to track him down. Not right now, but maybe after Hannah’s visit was over. How far would a guy like Cooney go? A hundred miles? A thousand? Was he worth the effort? Would I be able to connect him to the arson at Mia’s house?
I wasn’t even sure where to look. Zeke Cooney didn’t strike me as a Facebook kind of guy. He wasn’t going to tweet or text or write a blog. He probably had no idea those things even existed.
Then I remembered his mail.
I had emptied Cooney’s mailbox when I’d visited his rental house in San Antonio. Sure, technically speaking, stealing mail is a federal crime, but Cooney had abandoned it, right? I was simply lowering the burden on federal employees by decreasing the volume of nondeliverable mail.
The morning after finishing my preparations for Hannah, I retrieved Cooney’s hefty stack of junk ads and overdue bills from the van and began to go through it all. No surprise that Cooney owed several credit card companies a total of nearly thirty thousand dollars. He owed a hospital in Louisiana more than eighty thousand dollars. Didn’t say what for, but a single aspirin can cost $20, so maybe he had a hangnail. Several of the bills threatened legal action.
A small cable TV operator in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, was trying to collect nine hundred from a man named Pete Hopper. Was that one of Zeke Cooney’s aliases? And how does anyone rack up nine hundred in cable TV service before his service gets cut off? Then I noticed that the bill was for a single month. What the hell? I flipped to the second page—where pay-per-view orders were itemized—and I saw that Pete Hopper had watched nearly a thousand dollars worth of adult entertainment. Class act.
