The Night Shift(31)

Keller explains that they’re working the ice cream store murder case, which the lawyer and department head have of course seen on the news. Keller tells them the visit has nothing to do with the company. Instead, they need to speak with Walter Young, an employee.

The men don’t need any explanation. They know Walter’s daughter, Mandy Young, was one of the Blockbuster victims.

“He works in the actuary department,” the department head says, walking them through a winding series of hallways. Six-foot-tall cardboard cutouts of a worker bee, the company’s mascot from its cheesy commercials, are displayed in the elevator banks.

“We think the architect of our building was a fan of mazes. I still get lost,” he chuckles.

They take the elevator down several floors. The structure has a deep underbelly.

“We have a football field’s worth of computers. They gotta stay cool,” he explains.

The basement has a long hallway painted turd brown.

“I’ll warn you,” the department head says. “Walter is, um, eccentric. Not a people person. He asked to have his office down here. He’s a brilliant actuary. But … you’ll see.”

Keller and Atticus tap eyes.

They reach the closed door at the end of the hall. No nameplate. The department head knocks, waits a beat, then opens the door. A man sits behind a cluttered desk. He wears thick glasses and keeps blinking, giving his eyes an insect quality.

They hang back as the department head speaks with Walter, explaining why they’re here.

Under his breath Atticus asks Keller, “You ever see the movie Office Space?”

“No, why?”

“Never mind.”

The department head speaks louder now. “Agent Keller and Detective Singh, I’d like you to meet Walter Young, our best actuary.” His tone is sincere. Cautious and over-the-top, but sincere. “Walter designed our computer risk model. If you tell him three things about yourself, he can predict with near certainty whether you’ll get in a car accident.” He smiles. “Text me when you’re done and I’ll come see you out. We don’t want them to get lost in the maze, right, Walter?” The manager lets out a forced laugh.

Walter cricks his neck. Like a tic.

“That won’t be necessa—” He cricks his neck again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

Keller says, “Mr. Young, I understand this may be a difficult subject. But you may be able to help us catch—”

“I’ve got nothing to say!” he shouts.

The department head’s eyes widen. “Walter, I think these agents just need to—”

“Get out!”

“Walter, I’m—”

“Out!” Walter lurches from behind his desk. Keller, Atticus, and the department head bump into each other walking backward out of the small office. Walter slams the door.

The department head escorts them out of the facility, apologizing for Walter’s behavior. It’s a difficult topic, his daughter’s murder, he explains. And Walter obviously has some social issues.

Outside, Atticus says, “What the hell was that?”

“No idea.” It was weird, but they need to push forward, go systematically through the prior investigation.

“Who’s next on our schedule?” Keller asks.

“Candy O’Shaughnessy’s mother. But not until two o’clock. Still no word from the other parents,” he says, checking his phone.

“More parents…” Keller lets loose a breath. They have time to kill. She thinks about her discussion with Bob last night—that perhaps Ella Monroe told a detective what the killer said to her. “I’d like to talk to the original leads on the investigation.”

“There were two leads,” Atticus says. “One died a few years back; the other, his name is Tony Grosso, retired shortly after the killings.”

“You got an address for him?”

“No, but I can ask the HR department. He probably gets a pension, so they’d have it.”

“If he still lives nearby, we’ve got some time, so let’s see if he’ll talk.”

“Why? You think the file’s missing something?” Atticus asks.

“It always is,” Keller says. “It always is.”





CHAPTER 26


ELLA





“You grew up here?” Jesse looks about the ornate dining room.

Ella doesn’t answer. She’s sipping coffee from one of the Shelley teacups her mother spent a small fortune on. Charles has checked in on her more than once, offering breakfast. But she has no appetite. Maybe it’s because of last night, the weight of the secret Jesse told her. Or maybe it’s being back in this house, dreading the visit with her mother.

Jesse drops down on the chair across from her. “But you, like, went to public school in Union County. You worked at a video store. I don’t understand—”

“Neither did my mother. It’s a long story.”

“I want to hear it,” Jesse says, not letting it go. She’s already got a journalist’s taste for the red meat of a story.

“My father insisted. After my older brother—Shane—overdosed. Dad blamed the money. That they’d spoiled him … the lifestyle.”