Derek immediately began working his technical magic, and within minutes, he’d accessed the guy’s bank account records from the time of the investigation.
“Bingo. What’s the date of the report?” Derek smiled when Grant told him. “This has to be it.”
On the edge of his seat, Coop asked, “What is it? What did you find?”
“A wire transfer to the account in the amount of ten thousand dollars.” Derek’s eyes met Grant’s. “It posted the same day the investigation officially closed.”
Grant’s heart sped up. “We find out where that money came from, we find who was responsible for the bridge collapse.”
Coop nodded. “With any luck, it’ll lead us to whoever shot Billy.”
Derek’s computer beeped again, the sound different than his earlier message alert. He rushed over to check it.
“That’s odd.” His brows turned inward as his fingers moved with rapid speed.
“What?” Both Grant and Coop asked in unison.
Still focused on his keyboard, Derek said, “I got into Billy’s apartment building feed, but there was another security server detected. One that runs off a completely separate network.”
“Can you figure out where it’s coming from?” Grant asked.
His friend’s blue eyes narrowed. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” Derek looked back at his computer. “It’s more advanced, but the network it’s connected to is one I’m familiar with.” A few more clicks of the keyboard and, “Holy shit.”
“Find something?” Coop asked unnecessarily.
“You could say that.” Derek’s gaze slid to Grant’s. “It’s connected to Billy Cantrell’s apartment.”
Grant looked across the table expectantly. “So, the guy had a security system installed. What’s so strange about that?”
“Not just any security system. This one is on a twenty-four-hour recording setup. Not for the hallway, but”—Derek spun his laptop around for the other two men to see—“inside the apartment.”
“Holy shit. Can you rewind it to earlier tonight?”
Derek’s expression turned deadpan. “I swear, it’s like y’all have no faith in my abilities whatsoever.”
Sighing dramatically, Derek turned his computer back around and began working to rewind the feed. Talking while he worked, he said, “If we can get a clear shot of the shooter’s face, we can nail the son of a bitch.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. This feed runs through the entire apartment. Including the bathroom.”
“Jesus,” Coop spoke beneath his breath. “Paranoid, much?”
Grant and Coop both walked around to the other side of the table. With Coop’s help, Derek was able to narrow down when he’d spoken to Brynnon on the phone. Using that as a starting point, he found that portion of the recording and hit play.
The screen came alive. Divided in equal squares, they could see every inch of Billy’s apartment, all at the same time.
Clearly upset, they watched as Billy spoke to someone on the phone. The feed didn’t have audio, but Grant could tell he was apologizing repeatedly.
“He’s talking to Brynnon,” he stated for clarification.
A few minutes later, after ending that call, Billy went into his bedroom and removed a second phone from a safe he kept under his bed.
Stating the obvious, Derek said, “It’s a burner.”
Again, they couldn’t hear the conversation, but there was no doubt Billy was upset about something. His facial expression and other body language suggested he was yelling at whoever was on the other line.
With a look of resolve, Billy ended that call, slammed down the phone, and walked over to a desk butted up against one of his bedroom walls.
“What’s he doing now?”
