Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(23)
Josie took the list over to the copy machine and made Otto a copy. Of the seven Web sites, Josie took the first four and gave the other three to Otto. The first accessed a Web hosting application for his business Web site, but she found nothing out of the ordinary. She found what she was searching for on the third site.
“Take a look, Otto. It’s called Sky Drop. I think he just saves all of his files to the online Sky Drop folder. Then he can get to them anywhere.”
Otto pulled up his chair and looked over her shoulder as she logged in to Dillon’s account. She clicked “Open Sky Drop Folder,” and a list of about fifty file folders appeared in a desktop window. Otto patted her on the back. “Good work. Open up the file folder titled ‘Clients.’”
Josie double-clicked and found a client database. She opened it to find a number of files, each one listing information for a different client. The first file was for James Aiken and contained information such as address, employer, money market, etc.
“Click through those files,” Otto said. “See if each one contains the same basic data.”
Josie found the same template for a total of thirty-nine clients.
“Does that sound about right? Thirty-nine clients?”
She shrugged. “Probably. He’s never said.”
Over the next two hours Josie and Otto read through Dillon’s work files. From this information they made a list of current clients whose physical file folders were missing.
“I’ll check each name with NCIC for an arrest record or a warrant,” Josie said.
“Assuming the records were entered,” Otto said.
They both knew the National Crime Information Center was only as good as the reporting agencies that fed them information. If small-town departments didn’t keep up with entering cases, criminals slipped through the system undetected.
As they continued to examine files, Josie came across a name that she recognized. “Dillon doesn’t talk work much when he’s away from the office. But I remember this name.”
Otto looked over his computer at Josie.
“You recognize the name Julian Beckwith?” she asked.
“Isn’t he the financier? The guy that owns all the property in El Paso?”
“That’s him. The twenty-something super genius with millions in the stock market.”
“The kind of kid you want to take out back and beat the snot out of.”
Josie nodded. “Worse than that. He’s had death threats. He provokes and taunts people. Enjoys bilking stupid rich people out of their money. Then brags about it. Another twisted Robin Hood.”
“Dillon is that kid’s accountant?”
“I don’t think he’s the accountant, but he represents some part of his business,” she said. “Now that we have actual client names, let’s go back to Dillon’s office.”
Josie took the list she had assembled and photocopied it for Otto as he took a phone call. She found two plastic crates for carrying the files back to the department once they were finished at Dillon’s. Otto hung up his phone, his expression guarded.
“What is it?”
“That was Showalter Funeral Home. They’ve arranged a memorial service for Christina tomorrow afternoon at one o’clock. Her family is flying in tonight to be there.”
Josie listened to the noise in her head, like a windstorm, knocking out the power. What would she say to these grieving parents when she was still grieving herself, and terrified of more bad news that might come?
*
It was another pretty spring day, the kind of day that would cause Dillon to start making plans for the weekend. Pack an overnight bag, throw the tent in the back of Josie’s jeep, and drive to Big Bend National Park to hike and kayak the canyons. Josie would buy the groceries and Dillon would cook over a fire. He hated to grocery shop, and she hated to cook. Now, as she watched Otto remove the yellow crime-scene tape and unlock the newly repaired door, panic welled up inside her as reality hit her all over again. She could only hope they would make such a trip again.
The office was cool and the shattered glass had been swept away. Christina’s chair had been removed and taken to the police station as evidence. It didn’t change the horror of what had happened, but it was a relief not to have to look at the bloodstained chair anymore.
Josie checked each of the phones’ voice mails and listened to several new messages, jotting down the callers in her notebook. Otto carried a ladder-back chair from the waiting area over to Christina’s desk and laid out Dillon’s list of clients.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked.
Josie knew he was asking how involved she wanted to be. “I’m fine. It makes more sense for me to work in his office since I know somewhat how he operates.”
Otto stared at her for a moment, then nodded and sat down to begin working. Josie walked down the dark hallway to Dillon’s office. The wood-slatted blinds were drawn against the early morning sun and the office was gloomy. She turned on the overhead light and sat down in his office chair. She scanned the objects on his desk, looking for anything missing that she hadn’t caught the day before. She then switched places and sat in the client’s seat, the chair she often sat in when she stopped by to visit. She observed the room for quite a while and, finding nothing, moved to the set of three lateral filing cabinets against the wall to the right of Dillon’s desk.