Spiraled (Callahan & McLane Book 3) (23 page)

34

“We’ve got a shooting instructor, a retired deputy, and a former patrol officer. What kind of professions and backgrounds did we get on the other victims?” Mason asked. He, Ray, and Zander were in a small room in the command center where they could hear themselves think. Ray had listed the three women’s names and professions on a huge whiteboard. Zander looked at a printout.

“Car sales,” he read. “Retired accountant, grocery clerk, two stay-at-home moms, speech therapist, retail sales, and cabdriver.”

“Is there more background on the moms?” Ray asked.

“Both attended college and worked in various retail capacities. Neither have worked outside the home in over five years.”

“Nothing in that list is grabbing me,” said Mason. “Let’s move ahead with these three women. We’ll keep the moms on the back burner for now. We might need to dig deeper there.” But his gut told him they were on the right track with the women’s ties to law enforcement. “How long did Jennifer Spendlin instruct at the shooting range?”

“Four years,” said Zander. “I talked to one of the other instructors. She taught the women-only classes and some of the advanced classes.”

“Any problems with students?”

“Not that he knew of. He said he’d ask around, but the general consensus was that she was well-liked and a top-notch teacher.”

Mason eyed her photo. Jennifer was a serious-looking young woman who’d left two children behind. After the shooting her husband had moved in with his parents to get help raising the children. Mason didn’t blame him. Raising a two- and a four-year-old had to be a full-time job.

Were you a deliberate target?

“What did we find out on Justin Yoder’s shooting range trip?” he asked.

“So far it’s been a dry lead. No one there remembered him and none of his friends or coworkers say they ever went shooting with him,” said Zander. “All we have is the one time his stepfather took him.”

The range Jennifer Spendlin had worked at was nearly two hours from Justin’s home. It didn’t feel like a solid connection in Mason’s brain.

“I think our theory might be a bit of a stretch,” Ray said slowly, not taking his gaze from the names on the board. “The two women that were in law enforcement had been out of it for years. Anna Luther retired over a decade ago, and Gabrielle Gower left her job two years before she was shot.”

“What’s she been doing since?” Mason asked.

“Working on a degree at Portland State. Business,” answered Zander. “I think we need to stay on this lead. I like it.”

“But how do these women tie to these young guys who died?” asked Ray. “Where do they come in? Hell, what I really want to know is how he gets them to go along with this plan. ‘Wait in the bathroom while I kill people until I can shoot you in the face.’ It doesn’t make sense. We’re missing something.”

Mason nodded. A clock was ticking down in his head. Every hour and day that passed, he felt them moving closer to another mass of deaths—but he couldn’t see the end time on the clock. The air pressure seemed to increase as more time went by.

He dug in a folder and pulled out photos of their shooters—no, they weren’t shooters. The young men were victims. He studied each face, wondering what had put the men in the positions that’d caused their deaths. He wished he had video of the first two men. The video at the Rivertown Mall of Justin Yoder a few days before the shooting had brought the young man to life. He’d moved and interacted like a happy man. Not someone who knew he was about to die.

How did the shooter convince them to go along with the shootings?

He closed his eyes, remembering the shooter walking beside Justin, laughing and pointing in the mall. Just another carefree day. And then he’d held his hands up like a movie director. Mason went still.
A movie director?
The shooter had pointed at the mall cameras
. . .
and then places where there were no cameras, but was he telling Justin there would be cameras? For the performance?

He also studied drama in college and falls back on that when he needs to
. Kari Behling’s statement about AJ Weiss.

AJ Weiss had had a recent acting gig. And he’d had to buy the clothes for the gig.
Was it possible
. . .
?

“Hey, Ray. Do you have a phone number for Kari Behling handy? You know, AJ Weiss’s girlfriend.”

Ray pulled a notebook out of his pocket and flipped through it.

Mason looked at Zander. “Do you remember anything in Justin Yoder’s background that had to do with acting or drama?”

Zander thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I can look over some of the notes.”

“Here you go.” Ray handed Mason his notebook, his gaze sharp. “What are you thinking?”

Mason dialed his phone. “I’m thinking that AJ Weiss may have believed he’d signed up for some sort of acting job. Maybe our other guys, too. What other reason would they have to go along with this unless they were killers? Nothing we’ve found in their backgrounds indicates these are guys that would knowingly stand aside and let someone commit mass murder, right?”

“Hello?” Kari answered her phone. Mason identified himself and plunged right into his questions.

“You told us the other day that AJ had purchased clothing for one of his acting jobs, right?”

“Yes,” she answered cautiously.

“What did he buy?”

“I’m not sure. He said he’d been told Dick’s Sporting Goods store would have what he needed. I never saw his purchase.”

“You didn’t ask him about it?”

“I asked him what he’d been told to buy and he’d said exercise pants and jacket.”

Yes!
“What was the acting job for?” He couldn’t help the small quiver in his voice. Ray’s eyebrow rose at the sound. Both he and Zander were carefully listening to Mason’s side of the conversation.

“Um
. . .
I’m not sure. He never got to do it.”

“You mean it was to happen after he died?”

“I assume so. He never said anything more about it after he’d been given money to go buy the clothes.”

Mason suspected AJ had made his last performance.

“Did you find new workout wear in his apartment?”

Kari paused. “I didn’t see anything, but I wasn’t looking for it. I haven’t gone through all his things yet, but I can look if you need me to.” Curiosity rang in her tone. Mason didn’t press the issue. He knew AJ had been wearing the clothes when he was shot.

“Do you know how he got hired for that particular job?”

“I’m not sure. Probably through one of the websites where they post that sort of thing. He was always scanning for quick jobs. Or one of his acting buddies may have passed it on to him. Often he hears about things through word of mouth.”

“What kind of websites?” Mason tucked his cell phone between his jaw and shoulder and flipped to a clean page in Ray’s notebook.

“Job posting boards. I don’t know what they’re called exactly. All the people looking for acting jobs visit them. At least AJ and his friends did.”

“Can you give me a name and phone number of his closest friend who does the same sort of thing? Someone who’d know that side of the business?”

“Sure. He has an acting group that meets regularly at Portland Community College. Frankly I think the group did more drinking than working on their craft, but he has a couple of close friends from there. Hold on.”

Mason looked at Ray and Zander. “She says AJ went to the sporting goods store to buy exercise pants and jacket for his next job. And there are job boards for actors where she thinks he might have picked up that gig.”

“Christ. What’d it say? ‘Come star in a mass killing’?” said Ray. “Who’d apply for that?”

Kari came back on the line and recited a name and phone number, which Mason neatly printed in Ray’s notebook. Zander held out his hand, and Mason passed him the information.

“Why are you asking about this?” she said slowly. “How can an acting job have anything
 . . .
” She trailed off. “Oh, my God. You think he thought the bullets were fake? That the people he shot were acting? That can’t be right.”

Mason paused, remembering they hadn’t made public the one-shooter theory or shared it with the families. As far as Kari knew, the police still believed AJ had killed several people. “We’re exploring several different theories.”

“So he didn’t know the gun would kill him?” She sounded skeptical. “He’s not stupid. He wouldn’t pull a trigger on a fake gun in his mouth.”

“That’s not exactly where we’re going with this,” said Mason. “Let me pursue it further. If what we’re doing amounts to anything, we’ll let you know.” The evasion felt heavy on his tongue. They were 99 percent certain AJ hadn’t shot anyone, but they couldn’t risk warning the shooter by having the knowledge go public. Mason ended the call, repeating his promise to update her when they had some facts.

“Okay. We’ve got a name of an actor friend of AJ’s,” Mason said. “I’ll call him and see if he’s familiar with a job AJ may have accepted recently. I bet he can give us more information on those job boards, too.”

Zander looked up from his laptop, where he’d done something with the friend’s name. “I’ve got a home address for him if you’d rather go in person. He’s not far.”

Mason looked at Ray, who shrugged. “Why not?”

Portland Community College sat on top of a hill on some of the most expensive real estate in Oregon, but Simon’s apartment was at the bottom of the same hill and backed up to the interstate. Mason stepped out of the vehicle and slammed his door shut, listening to the roar of the traffic. There wasn’t room between the freeway and Simon’s apartment for
anything
. A tall concrete wall separated the two, and Mason wondered how unbearable the noise would have been without it.

“I wouldn’t be able to live here,” Ray stated loudly.

“I don’t think it matters much when you’re in your twenties,” Mason replied. He’d lived wherever he could afford at that age. Especially during college. Sleep in a friend’s freezing basement for the winter? Sure. He’d counted himself lucky that it was cheap and had a portable heater. He shuddered, thinking of the ancient heater he’d used. He was lucky he hadn’t burned down the house. This squat apartment building had fresh paint and plenty of parking; Simon could have done a lot worse. He and Ray followed Zander up the concrete steps to the second floor and knocked.

“I’ll sit back on this one,” Zander said quietly. “Unless I’m needed.”

Mason nodded, figuring the agent didn’t want to intimidate AJ’s friend. If Simon appeared to be less than helpful, they had an FBI agent they could dangle in front of him. Footsteps sounded and Mason and Ray pulled out their IDs. The footsteps stopped and Mason held his ID in front of the peephole in the door.

“Can I help you?” came a male voice from inside.

“Simon Goethe?” asked Ray.

A pause. “Yes.”

“As you can see, we’re with OSP. We’d like to talk to you about AJ Weiss.”

The door immediately opened and a tall dark-haired young man studied them. “AJ was a good friend,” he said softly. “I can’t believe he did it.”

Mason nodded. “Well, we’re exploring a possibility that he didn’t. Can we come in?”

Simon led them into a cramped sitting room with a view of the concrete wall. Mason tipped his head at the window. “I assume your rent’s pretty good?”

The young man snorted. “For the area. Anything close to the college costs more than I want to pay. I make do.”

“You did acting stuff with AJ,” Ray stated. He, Mason, and Simon took seats. Zander leaned against the wall, keeping a close eye on Simon, staying silent. Mason noticed the young man steal a couple of quick looks at the agent. Zander hadn’t held up ID the way he and Ray had.

“Yeah, we belong to a group that meets once a month up at the college. We met a few years ago in an acting class downtown.”

“I understand there’re job boards where actors can find jobs,” Mason stated.

Confusion crossed Simon’s face. “There are. I assume it’s like that for any kind of profession.”

Good point.
Mason hadn’t job-hunted in decades. He wouldn’t know where to start.

“AJ’s girlfriend, Kari, told us AJ had recently lined up a job, but she didn’t know where he’d heard about it.”

Simon was instantly wary, and Mason tensed at the sight. “What’s that have to do with his shooting?” Simon asked.

“It’s a bit hard to explain, but we need to find out where he lined up a job that gave him a clothing allowance and sent him to buy some clothes at Dick’s Sporting Goods.”

Alarm registered in Simon’s eyes. “Why? Why do you need to know where he was going to work?”

“Simon, do you know where he got the job?” Ray asked quietly. Dozens of times over the years, Mason had watched Ray interview witnesses and suspects. Each time someone appeared to hold back, the former college football player would magically shift his shoulders and bulk to increase his size. Like right now. Ray looked like a linebacker sitting in a skeletal chair. Mason had tried the same movement in front of a mirror at home and could never replicate the results. Could have something to do with Ray outweighing him by fifty pounds.