“No, my friend.” Leon put the bottle back in his desk drawer. “I need you to understand something and I need you to understand it before you leave this office. This is your last warning. Dry up, forget Markov, and get me a real story. Have I made myself clear?”
“Sure. Clear.”
“Now get out of here.” Leon returned to frowning at his laptop.
His hands shaking, Bill pushed back the chair, cursing that goddamn squeak again. He backed out of Leon’s office, trying to think of something he could say that would salvage his dying career.
But there was nothing to say.
He would have to prove it with his actions.
He knew Markov was hiding something, and he would find it.
***
“The first set of images from your security cameras are grainy,” said Detective Bell. He fanned out an array of photos on the police station desk.
Alex perused the photos. Because they were taken from a distance, he couldn’t make out the facial features of the rogue painter. It was clearly a man. He was dressed in painter’s overalls with a black hoodie underneath. Sure enough, he carried a can of paint. From this vantage point, he looked like half the guys in Facilities.
“But then,” said Detective Bell, “we found this one.”
Finally, a closeup.
Alex gawked. He knew that face.
“Do you know this man?”
“Yeah.” His shoulders slumped. “It’s Gordon Dean, Shannon’s brother.”
Alex hadn’t seen him in person in a long time, but he’d recognize him anywhere. The short brown hair, the beefy features, the crooked nose.
Gordon hadn’t even tried to disguise his appearance. In fact, he seemed to have known exactly where the security camera was. In the photo, he was looking straight at the camera, grinning.
Daring them to recognize him.
“He’s here then and he’s been in my hotel.”
“We’ve been in touch with his parents. Jill and Ned Dean are on vacation. Costa Rica. They were surprised to hear Gordon was in Las Vegas.”
“Yeah, right. They probably put him up to it.”
“How well do you know Shannon’s brother?”
“We weren’t exactly friends. Before Shannon died, I met him a few times but we were never chummy. He lived in Albany so we didn’t see each other often. One or two family events. He’s a consultant. Gordon’s the guy you call when you need to downsize a thousand people. He helps companies with their dismissals.”
“He used to,” corrected Detective Bell. “Gordon Dean was downsized himself about a month ago. We spoke to his employer. He didn’t take it well. They had to call police to escort him out of the building when he was let go.”
“I see.”
“Alex, did he blame you for Shannon’s death?”
“Yeah. They all did. I tried to reach out to the family, to explain. They all made it clear they wanted nothing to do with me. Gordon had a few words for me on the phone about two weeks after she died. That was the last time I spoke to him.”
“Until we can establish his whereabouts, I need you to be very careful. I can assign some plainclothes officers to the hotel.”
“Okay. I guess that would be best.”
“I have every expectation Gordon Dean will try to make another statement. His state of mind is a concern. We’ll be looking for him but I want you to watch your step.”
