Network of Deceit

by Tom Threadgill

  Zachary Coleman died a week ago yesterday. “So why replace the software if the problem seems to have gone away?”

  “We’re not sure it has gone away. We’ve seen time gaps before. Never this long though. A couple of days max. We figure better safe than sorry.”

  “Would it be possible to get copies of the emails? The ones you received when the cameras weren’t working here?”

  “Eduardo probably has them. Can you get those from him?”

  She nodded. “I could, but I’d rather have the official version, you know? Straight from the vendor.”

  “I’d like to help, but unless Eduardo says it’s okay, we really don’t give out customer information. Kind of goes against the whole security thing.”

  Her heart sank. Eduardo would give them to her, but would he hold anything back? She pasted on a smile. “No problem. I’ll get them from him. If the cameras were intentionally deactivated, would the system report that?”

  “Not directly. Either the video is active or it’s not. That’s what’s stated. It doesn’t tell us why the camera’s down. Honestly, something like this has never been a problem before.”

  “Let’s say a camera loses connection for whatever reason. How long before it sends the email alert?”

  He held up his hand, all fingers stretched. “Five-minute delay. We can shorten it, but most people don’t want to in case the power flickers during a storm or something. But the program logs any outage, regardless of length, and that data is accessible anytime. Which brings up another point. We monitor all our systems in case of catastrophic failure, such as when everything goes down for whatever reason. We can initiate contact to make sure the customer is aware and get to work on a solution if it’s something on our end.”

  So if they could view the system remotely, potentially anyone could. Anyone with the skills to bypass protective measures. “Do you handle their network security too?”

  “Uh-uh. We’re more into the hardware side of things.”

  “Okay. One last question. When will the new software be active here?”

  “It’s loaded now. Once the park closes, we’ll switch over.”

  She shook his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Marshall. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “Steve,” he said. “Any time.”

  She retraced her path to Sanchez’s office. The door was open and he sat behind his desk shuffling through a pile of folders. She cleared her throat and he looked up.

  “Get what you needed?” he asked.

  “A few answers and more questions. Mind if I close the door?”

  “Not at all. Have a seat.”

  “Thanks.” She pulled the chair closer to his desk before sitting. “Mr. Marshall said the camera system sent you an email whenever there was a problem. I wonder if I could get copies of those?”

  “Sure. I can send them over later today.” He scribbled on a Post-it note and smacked it on his monitor.

  “Also, what would you say if I asked you to hold off switching to the new software?”

  He rested one arm across his belly and used it to support the other while planting his chin in his palm. His gaze fixed on her for a long moment. “You want to see if the problem continues. If it doesn’t, you can assume there’s some link to the young man’s death. But if the trouble persists, the two aren’t connected.” He paused. “Unless someone at Cannonball, me for example, is involved, in which case that person would continue to create the issue with the cameras so you couldn’t make the connection.”

  She crossed her legs and smiled. “But . . .”

  “But you would know that I know that you know that, so even if the problem kept occurring, you could assume I, or someone at the park, is continuing to manipulate the cameras in order to hide our involvement from you. I think.” He pointed at her. “No matter what I do, you can’t rule out my participation. So why stop the software upgrade?”

  Good answer. “Eh, you’re right. No point in holding off.”

  He clasped his hands on his desk. “Was that a test, Detective?”

  “Just thinking out loud. No camera issues occurred after Zachary Coleman’s death. Mr. Marshall said that’s the longest gap since the problems started. If someone at Cannonball was involved, they wouldn’t have made it so obvious. The outages would have continued for a while.”

  “Unless I knew that you knew that I knew—”

  “Stop.” She massaged her temples. Sanchez was too smart to be involved with the death. No way he’d have done it at the water park. Didn’t mean he couldn’t be active in some sort of cover-up, but she’d address that later if the evidence pointed that direction. Now she needed something, anything, to move her forward.

  “Who handles your network security?” she asked. “An employee or, let me guess, an outside company?”

  “We’re an entertainment venue. Very little of our business, other than marketing, takes place online. All the attractions, shops, rides, everything is computerized. We have a tech support staff that handles all of that, including administering our network security both internally and externally.”

  She nodded. “Would they have the skills to dig deep into the system and identify any intrusions that weren’t detected by the security software?”

  Creases lined his forehead. “You think we’ve been hacked?”

  “I think it’s an option worth considering.”

  “If someone was after our data, why bother with anything else? That’s a lot of trouble to go to just to manipulate a few cameras, isn’t it? Easier to commit the crime some other place. And it went on for a month. You telling me they planned that far ahead to kill him and this was the best way they could figure out to do it?” He shook his head. “Doesn’t make any sense.”

  Couldn’t argue with that. But unless a person at Cannonball was tied to Coleman’s death, or involved in a conspiracy to hide the details, then it had to be an outsider. “I think you’d agree the malfunctioning cameras are too convenient to not be part of the murder, which means remote access, either from someone at Mr. Marshall’s company or the internet at large.”

  Sanchez held up a finger. “You said murder. Are you convinced of that? I understand I am not privy to your investigation, but if you are certain a serious crime was committed on Cannonball property, I must inform others so they can prepare to deal with the press.”

  She smiled again. “I’m quite certain you’ve already made the appropriate personnel aware, just in case. Oh, and Mr. Marshall said he could pull the dates and times on the camera outages. Would you be able to cross-reference that information with the time of the boy’s death so we could see which ones were turned off?”

  “I’ll plot them on a park map and send them over,” he said. “I would also be willing to bring someone in to check our network security logs and do whatever it is they do to find out if we’ve been hacked. In return, I would ask that if you determine the death was a homicide, you notify me before releasing that information to others.”

  “I have to tell the family first.”

  “Of course. And I would expect to be next on the list.” He leaned forward until his stomach touched the desk and lowered his voice. “As soon as you leave their home. Before they have time to get the word out and the media catches wind.”

  “I can make that happen,” she said. “Even ensure the press release mentions how cooperative Cannonball’s security department was in the investigation.”

  He stood and shook her hand. “Have a nice day, Detective. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Soon?”

  “I hope so. I want this resolved as much as you do.”

  Doubtful. He wanted to know the extent of the park’s liability and how that might play out. Nothing wrong with that. Part of his job. What he was paid to do.

  But wanting answers as bad as she did? Uh-uh. He wanted to protect people.

  She wanted to nail them to the wall.

  14

  By the time Amara arrived back at the office, most of the dete
ctives were wrapping up their day. She brushed crumbs off the seat of the folding chair and settled at the card table. She needed to find the details on Haley Bricker’s truck and track down addresses for Matias Lucero and Liam Walker. That would give her plenty to start with tomorrow. And with two days to go until her mother’s scan, staying busy was critical. The only way to keep the worries at bay were the distractions.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. Poor choice of words. Zachary Coleman was not a distraction.

  She jerked as a hand touched her shoulder.

  “Whoa there,” Starsky said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Her heart pounded and she swiveled around. “You’re lucky I didn’t go into attack mode.”

  “Oh yeah. I know about your workouts. Catlike reflexes and all that. No way I’m fooling around with you.”

  She cocked her head as his face turned from its normal paleness to a bright red. “Good info to have,” she said.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  She tightened the screws. “So you will fool around with me?”

  He swallowed hard and glanced away. “I’ll stop digging now, thank you. Just wanted to see how your day went.”

  “Eh, okay. Yours?”

  He continued to gaze into the distance. “Nothing major. Getting ready to head out. You want to grab a bite to eat?”

  “Thanks, but I don’t think so. Want to get caught up on a few things and lay out my schedule for tomorrow.”

  “Sure.” He shuffled his feet and met her eyes. “If you need to talk about your mother, or the case, or anything, let me know. I’m a decent listener.”

  Warmth spread through her chest and she gave him a thumbs-up. “Will do.”

  “Her scan still set for Thursday?”

  “Last I heard. I don’t expect we’ll have the results for several days.”

  He cleared his throat and licked his lips. “I don’t want to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but will you, um, I mean, once you hear . . .”

  “Of course,” she said. “It’d be a good time to talk to a friend.”

  He placed a hand on his chest and opened his eyes wide. “I meant me.”

  She chuckled and turned back to her laptop. “Idiota. Now go away and let me do some work.”

  She looked over her shoulder to watch him leave, then began researching Haley Bricker’s truck. The DMV’s database gave her the details. New model purchased fourteen months ago. No record of any violations and the registration was up-to-date. The title had always been in Haley’s name. Whoever bought it had paid in full.

  She ran her finger down the screen until she found the dealer’s name and address. They’d be open for another couple of hours tonight, giving her time to swing by on the drive home. She didn’t even have to see the paperwork. Who bought the truck, how much did it cost, and how did they pay? A flick of her badge should be enough to get the information she needed unless the business manager wanted to be a pain.

  Next was finding addresses for the two other friends. By now, Haley had no doubt filled the boys in on her visit. If they were involved, they’d certainly had time to get their stories straight.

  Matias Lucero was up first. The DMV listed seven people with variations of that name in the San Antonio area. She reviewed the driver’s license photo for each until she found the match for one of the boys in the video from the water park. Hispanic, dark hair cut short, and glasses. Five foot ten, weight one-seventy. She snapped a picture of the screen before typing Liam Walker in the search bar.

  Three people by that name had a driver’s license in Texas, but only one lived nearby. His photo matched the other boy in the video. Caucasian, shaggy blond hair, pointy nose. Six feet even, weight one-forty-five. Acne marks covering his face. His address was the closest to her apartment, so she’d go by there first tomorrow morning. She took a picture of the screen and checked the time.

  No rush to get to the car dealer as long as she caught them before they closed. And no hurry to go home and be alone—Larry the lizard didn’t count, not that she’d ever tell him that—with her thoughts.

  She loaded the recordings from the Cannonball again and fast-forwarded to the final few minutes where Zachary was pulled from the water. Something about the scene nagged at her. Two park personnel stood beside the body while a third administered CPR. Within a minute, people packed the camera’s view, trying to get a look at whatever was happening.

  Several seconds later, Haley appeared on the right side of the screen and edged through the crowd to Liam and Matias, still thirty feet from Zachary’s body. The three weren’t trying to get closer to their friend. Why not? The natural assumption would be drowning or heatstroke or passed out from alcohol. No reason to hang back and act like you don’t know the victim. Murder would be the last thing on their minds. Unless they knew otherwise.

  Haley rocked on her heels and was breathing rapidly while Liam talked to her and gestured toward Zachary. Matias bounced on his toes and scanned the crowd. Who was he looking for? Paramedics? A killer?

  Haley was shaking now. She turned from Liam and moved into the crowd, away from the body. Matias grabbed her arm and whispered something. The three maneuvered through the throng and stopped on the fringe to watch the park attendant try to revive the boy.

  A medical team arrived and took over the CPR. By now, it was clear that Zachary Coleman was dead, but they continued working as the body was strapped onto a gurney and rolled to a waiting ambulance.

  The video ended and she clasped her hands behind her neck. Odd that Eduardo Sanchez wasn’t anywhere at the scene. Why wouldn’t the park’s head of security be there? Could be he was off that day. Or everything happened so fast it was over before he arrived. She made a mental note to follow up.

  And the three friends. Their actions had been off, but people reacted differently to tragedies. You couldn’t read too much into how someone responded to death.

  She reversed the video. Who or what was Matias looking for? He ran his hands through his hair and spun in a slow circle, searching in every direction. When a young girl bumped into him from behind, he jerked and twisted to face her.

  She paused the recording and zoomed in on his face. The blurry image didn’t seem to show a kid who was worried about his friend. He wasn’t grieving or upset. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. She tapped his face.

  Matias was staring straight at Haley and Liam.

  And he was terrified.

  15

  Amara kicked off the covers and flipped onto her back. Eleven p.m. and no real sleep. So much for going to bed early so she could hit the gym before it got crowded tomorrow. There were gaps in her thoughts, so she must have dozed at some point, but here she was again. Staring at the tiny blinking green light on the smoke detector on the ceiling.

  Her mind refused to quiet and flopped between worrying about Mama and thinking about the Coleman case and remembering Daddy. Her father died in a car crash nearly seventeen years ago, and the pain remained. Not always. Not even often. But still there. She visited his grave around the eighteenth of every month to rest and remember.

  Mama had been strong, but she’d always been better at hiding her emotions than Amara. And now that Wylie was becoming a fixture in her life, she seemed happier than she’d been in a long time. Cancer could change everything. The waiting for the scan and diagnosis and treatment plan meant tonight’s lack of sleep was the new normal.

  She blinked her eyes in time with the flashing of the smoke detector light. Fixating on work was at least productive. The car dealer confirmed her suspicion that Haley’s vehicle had been paid in full when purchased. Thirty-six thousand dollars and some change. The business manager wouldn’t provide any other details, but Amara didn’t need them.

  Zachary Coleman had loads of cash hidden under his floor. Haley Bricker had enough money to buy herself that truck. No doubt the two other friends had their fair shares as well. Whatever the four of them were doing was lucrati
ve and apparently dangerous. Nothing else in Zachary’s life pointed to him becoming a murder victim.

  The question was whether one of the three killed him, and why. Certainly not for his money. No evidence anyone went looking for the hidden cash. Had to be for something he knew, or something he did or didn’t do. She squeezed her eyes shut. Way to narrow it down, Amara.

  The scene at the water park played through her mind. Of the three kids, Liam seemed the calmest. Did that mean anything? And Haley obviously wanted to get as far away from the body as possible. Why? Wasn’t she concerned about her friend? And then there was Matias. The kid looked scared out of his wits, the way he jerked around as he checked the crowd. He wasn’t looking for help. He was watching his back.

  She’d planned to go to Liam’s house first, but Matias was the better option. Fear could be an excellent motivation to talk, as long as he believed he could help himself by doing so. He’d have to reach the tipping point first. That place where his desire to improve his own situation outweighed his concerns about what his compadres might think. Or do.

  She pulled the sheets back up and shoved another pillow under her head. Maybe that’s what got Zachary killed. He wanted to talk. If so, his death served as a strong message to the others. One they wouldn’t be likely to ignore.

  Frustration amped her heart rate and her limbs itched to do something productive. Not likely at this time of night. Somehow she needed to pass that information along to her brain so it’d shut down. Turning on the TV might divert her focus, especially if she watched one of those British detective shows on Netflix. They were mostly entertaining, albeit a bit slow for her taste. And she was convinced the most dangerous places in the world were the small towns in England where these detectives worked. Their murder rates had to be off the charts.

  She opened her personal laptop, browsed for a show, then clicked the button to send it to her TV. Halfway through an episode of Father Brown that she thought she’d seen before, but only remembered as events transpired, her cell rang and vibrated on the nightstand beside her. Fifteen minutes until midnight. She clutched the device and checked the caller ID. Area code 210, so it was local, but not a number either she or her phone recognized.