Memory Man Read online

  Then he walked to different spots along the rear doorway and checked the camera each time he did so.

  Interesting.

  He reversed course and walked down the main hall until he neared the front entrance. Then he veered to the left, down the hall where the cafeteria was located on his left and the library on the right.

  This was where Melissa Dalton’s locker was located, directly across from the cafeteria. He looked at the locker. Just behind it was the library where Lancaster was toiling away. On the opposite side, next to the sprinkling of classrooms, was the large cafeteria.

  Decker recalled from his school days that there was a storage and prep area at the end of the cafeteria with an exterior door leading to a small concrete porch area where shipments of food would be stacked. So that actually made six doors. Four main ones off the halls, one off the rear loading dock, and one here off the cafeteria.

  At 7:28 Melissa Dalton had heard a door open and close. It was not an interior classroom door, because there had been a whooshing sound associated with it, she had said. Like a vacuum closing.

  Like a vacuum closing. Those had been Dalton’s words. Lancaster had noted in the statement that Dalton had told her she loved science and the class had just gone over vacuums, which was no doubt why that term was fresh in her mind. Lancaster had put multiple question marks next to this statement, plus a large asterisk. She was no doubt planning to check that out later. Decker couldn’t blame her for marking the statement so. It didn’t seem to make sense.

  So that was page two of the statements.

  On page ten of the witness statements was a little nugget. It was the counterpart information that had really caused Decker to come here.

  The cafeteria workers came in at 8:45 sharp. Not before, not after. That had been verified from multiple sources as being the case yesterday as well. All the cafeteria workers were female. There was simply not a six-two, two-hundred-plus-pound, broad-shouldered male among them.

  And since the shooting had started at 8:42, none of the cafeteria workers had actually made it into the school. Four of them were getting out of their cars in the parking lot and another was waiting to turn into the lot when all hell had broken loose.

  Decker stepped into the cafeteria and looked around. His hand instinctively went to the butt of his pistol, which was wedged in his waistband and hidden under his jacket. He nudged the safety off with his thumb. He already had a round chambered. The lights were off in here. Decker found the switches and flicked them on using his elbow.

  He walked across the main space, passing tables with chairs stacked neatly on top of them. At the end of the room were the serving counters, all stainless steel and glass. The serving tubs were all empty. Everything was clean, dishes stacked neatly, all ready to go except for the absence of any hungry students and folks ready to serve them.

  His gaze was roaming to the floor as he stepped. But there wasn’t a discernible footprint there. Decker stepped through the opening into the rear space. There were portable shelving units here used to carry food from this area to the serving area. They were parked against the walls. There were mops and buckets and other cleaning tools.

  That was of no interest to Decker.

  What was of interest to him was the built-in freezer located at the far end of the storage room.

  A whooshing sound. A vacuum. A freezer door closing.

  Or opening.

  He pulled out his pistol. He wasn’t actually expecting to find the shooter in full cammies inside the freezer. They had to have searched back here and of course opened the freezer. But he had seen enough weird shit in his life not to discount the possibility. And to take anything for granted at this point could mean he too might leave the school in a body bag in the back of a silent transport.

  He aimed his pistol at the door, stepped to the side, gripped the handle with his coat sleeve, jerked it upward, and tugged it hard. The door opened cleanly.

  With a whoosh, he noted, as the air seal was broken. He imagined in the early morning hours it would have echoed right out into the empty, silent hall and into Melissa Dalton’s ears. Well, this had been his little experiment, and it seemed to corroborate what the girl had said.

  Decker backed away and took up position behind a worktable. He edged around it until he could see fully into the freezer. It was empty, except for food. But had it been empty at 7:28 the morning of the rampage?

  Decker stepped inside the freezer and looked around. He noted that the door had a safety mechanism that allowed anyone inside to open it. That way one couldn’t become trapped inside and freeze to death.

  Then he noticed it. Or felt it, rather.

  Freezers were supposed to be really cold, set at zero, in fact. This freezer was merely cold. Maybe not as cold as even the temperature outside.

  He checked the temperature gauge. No wonder. It read forty-five. He opened up some of the containers in the freezer and saw what he expected to see. The meat and other perishables had defrosted and were beginning to go bad. They would have to throw them out.

  So the guy had upped the temperature in the freezer and used it as his hiding place. And Melissa Dalton had heard exactly what she thought she had. A whooshing sound as the guy emerged at 7:28. But why hide in the freezer? And how did he get in the school to begin with? Presumably the freezer was used during the day, so he had to have come in after hours. And he had to have come in the night before the shooting. Otherwise he would have been discovered when the freezer door was opened by the kitchen staff when they began their duties.

  Next question: What would coming in here gain him?

  And the mother of all questions: How could he have walked from the cafeteria at the front of the school all the way to the back to commence his rampage and no one see him? It was like he’d teleported in from a spaceship.

  Fresh questions started coming in waves to Decker as the potential suspect pool morphed.

  What about visitors? Parents? Outside service people? Lancaster hadn’t mentioned anyone like that. But he presumed that anyone in the school at the time would have been held for questioning. That was the most basic rule of a criminal investigation. No one got to simply walk away. But there had been a gap between the shootings and the police shutting down ingress and egress. The shooter had to have made his escape then. But how had he done it without being seen?

  Decker came out of the freezer and closed it behind him. He walked a few paces and looked up. The freezer did not have a hiding place. But here was something.

  He grabbed one of the chairs and planted it in the middle of the room. He heaved himself up onto the chair. With his height he bumped his head against the tile ceiling. A drop-down ceiling, what people also called a floating ceiling, since the light tiles rode on metal racks that hung down about two feet from the actual permanent ceiling. It had been a retrofit, he knew, done long after the school was originally built. No one was installing drop ceilings in the 1940s.

  He lifted one of the ceiling tiles and poked his head through. Using his phone as a flashlight, he shone it around the darkened interior of the space. There was a lot of crap up here, including electrical lines, pipes for the sprinkler system, and HVAC ductwork. There was no way a guy that big could fit up here. And even if he had managed it, the light supports wouldn’t have held his weight. He repositioned the chair three more times until he found something. Not up top, on the floor. A bit of ceiling tile dust. He looked at the spots that he had already examined. There was a bit of such dust now under each because he had lifted the tiles there and dislodged the grainy material. But he hadn’t touched the tiles at this spot.

  He took pictures of everything from different angles. Then he positioned his chair and hoisted himself up once more. He used his hand, covered with the sleeve of his jacket so as to not smear or add to any fingerprints already there, to push the tile gently up. He poked his head through and looked around. The space was empty here. No pipes or electrical lines or ductwork. What was here was space to hide something. Like cammie gear and perhaps even weapons.

  He looked over every inch of space and then hit pay dirt.

  Snagged on a metal support was a thread. He shone his light on it. It looked beige. At another support point there was a smudge in the dust. And a third spot might just be oil residue from maybe a shotgun wedged there.

  He touched nothing, climbed down, and texted Lancaster. The forensics team would have to come down here and tear this place apart. While he was waiting for them, he walked to the exterior door opening onto the small loading dock.

  “Shit.”

  It had looked locked, but when he had leaned his bulk against the door it had fallen open, prompting his expletive. He stepped out onto the small loading dock. It was surrounded by a six-foot-tall wooden fence. With his height he could see over. Some garbage cans were located here, as well as a small Dumpster. And wooden crates were stacked in one corner. Decker nudged open the fence gate and peered out.

  Two parking spaces, both empty now. Off that, a short strip of cracked asphalt and then a chain-link fence that led to a long row of ten-foot tall bushes and other shrubbery that had grown up right next to the fence. He walked quickly over to the fence. At the spot opposite from the kitchen entrance he pushed his way through the bushes. The chain-link fence here was split right down the middle. He shone his cell phone light over it. Rusted. It had been this way for a while. He continued through the bushes and came out on the other side. Here was a path that led down into the woods that had been next to the school since forever.

  Easy come, easy go.

  Chapter

  15

  LANCASTER WHITTLED DOWN her gum while a tech team scoured the cafeteria and kitchen area. Outside, teams of police and FBI agents were following the trail that Decker had showed them.

  Decker leaned against one wall of the cafeteria, his hands in his pockets, and took in all that was going on. Lancaster walked over to him.

  “We had looked in the freezer before,” she said. “But we didn’t check the food or the temperature gauge. That was an oversight. I’m sure we would have noticed it later.”

  “You were looking for a shooter, clearing rooms,” Decker said. “Not worrying about spoiled hamburger. I didn’t have to worry about that. I was just nosing around.”

  “Right, after you took off from the library without a word. I called after you, you know. I could have come with you, Amos.”

  He noted her hurt look and then gazed around. It had not occurred to him at the time. She was still on the police force, so her and Decker finding this new line of investigation together would have helped her career. As it was, it had been Decker’s discovery, which helped Lancaster not at all.

  “I…I didn’t—”

  “Forget it,” she said abruptly. “You did the same thing when we officially worked together.”

  “I did?”

  “I guess it’s just a quirk of yours. Although for a guy who has this great memory, I would have expected you to remember doing it. At least to me.”

  “I’m a little out of sorts here, Mary.”

  Her irritation seemed to lift. “No, I think you’re getting your mojo back. I knew you would. That’s the important thing.”

  “It’s not like you need me to solve this case. You have a lot of resources.”

  “The thing is, Amos.” She looked down for a moment, chewing her gum. Then she gazed up at him and said, “Truth is, I miss working with you. I think we made a good team.”

  Decker nodded but said nothing.

  As the moments went by, Lancaster evidently realized he was not going to comment on this admission. She said, “But what I don’t get is, if he was in here, how did the video camera capture him at the rear entrance? It doesn’t jibe.”

  Decker pushed off the wall. “I’ll show you.”

  He led her to the rear of the school and pointed at the camera that had captured the image of the gunman. “Check the angle.”

  She stared up at the lens. “Okay.”

  Keeping to one side of the rear foyer, Decker circled around so that his back was to the rear door. Then he stepped to his left. “This is the spot where the camera picks up an image. I could see it on the feed. That middle door behind me is the only one in the frame.”

  “So the shooter could have done what you just did? Come in from the side and then gotten picked up by the camera.”

  “And made it appear that he had come in the rear entrance when he really hadn’t.”

  “I wonder why the camera is positioned that way?”

  “Well, it could have been moved.”

  Decker went over to the camera, extended his arm, and touched it. “I can reach it, but I’m tall. Yet someone shorter using a stick or a broom or something like that could have repositioned it. Probably no one would notice. It’s not like someone is monitoring this full-time right?”

  “Damn, this thing keeps getting more and more complicated.”

  “No, it’s getting more and more premeditated, Mary.”

  “You want to go outside and smoke with me?” she asked.

  He looked at her funny. “I don’t smoke.”

  “I thought this might make you start.”

  “I can be fat or I can smoke. I can’t be both.”

  They walked back to the cafeteria.

  When they reached it Lancaster popped another stick of gum in her mouth and started chewing. “Captain Miller’s calling you in paid dividends.”

  Decker looked at her. “What dividends?”

  She pointed at the room they were in. “This, Decker. Jesus. For a smart guy you can be obtuse at times.”

  “I found this, so what? Not really a clue to the shooter.”

  “He was hiding in the freezer with the temp turned way up. It looks like he hid his weapons and maybe his cammie gear in the ceiling. So he was already here, which is why no one saw him come in.”

  “But have you found any other trace?”

  “Oil mark on a ceiling tile support. Could be from a gun. The thread you found. Looks to be cammie fiber. The FBI is verifying. So that’s something.”

  He drew his hands from his pockets and placed his index finger a half inch from his thumb. “This is how much I found. Nothing to cheer about.”

  “Well, it’s more than we had.”

  “I saw the control panel. When does the security system get turned on here?”

  “Normally ten p.m. But there was an event that night. A school play that ran late. Lots of people. So the system wasn’t turned on until midnight so everyone could get out of the building.”

  “And no activity on the alarm log?”

  She shook her head. “None. First thing we did was check with the monitoring company. The log is clear.”

  “So the shooter has to get in before midnight. Did this play involve refreshments in the cafeteria?”

  “No. A friend of mine went because her kid was in it. She told me everyone left right after the play was over.”

  “So he comes in during the gap before the alarm system was set and takes up his hidey-hole.”

  “Why put his guns in the ceiling, then, Amos? Why not just have them in the freezer with him?”

  “You’re assuming he came in with them and then took up his hiding spot. What if he brought the weapons in at another time and hid them? Then the freezer wouldn’t work. Someone would spot them. The ceiling would work just fine. If he did hide them up there.”

  She shook her head stubbornly. “Why not do it all at once? It was pretty risky to get the guns in and hidden. And then sneak in again and hide in the freezer? Another risk that someone might have seen him.”

  “Agreed. But if that’s the way it happened, then there must be an explanation for it. This guy strikes me as being methodical and thoughtful.”

  “I can see that,” said Lancaster.

  Decker continued to ruminate, seemingly talking to himself. “Guns and gear first. Then the shooter. He might have come in for the school play along with everyone else. Or appeared to do so. The auditorium is across the main hall from the cafeteria. Entering the main entrance, you turn left for the auditorium. Maybe this guy hung a right and went to the cafeteria. Or if folks came in the back entrance too from the parking lot out there, the right and left are reversed. He stays all night and starts his rampage the next morning. So you need to check if anyone saw someone they didn’t recognize at the school last night.” He paused. “But there’s the same old hitch.”

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