If Ivy was right about the set-up, then Aaron was the victim who failed, who didn’t find his number. If the rooms were assigned from left to right, which made the most sense, then that meant seven people had already found their numbers in the boxes.
Vaughn wondered what the odds of that were. Maybe not one in a decillion, but pretty damn low.
He sipped his beer.
Everything in the barn was automated, from the door locks to the gas release valve.
“Detective Ryan? You still there?”
“Yeah, sorry. Been a long one.”
“Don’t I know it. So, the phone that made the 911 call to report the location of the gassing is the same phone—same IMEI number—as the one that sent the texts and received the initial calls from Aaron Treadman.”
Their assumptions had been correct. The anonymous call had been made by their unsub.
“Any way to tell who else called that phone? Received texts from it?”
“Not without the actual device.”
Vaughn had thought as much, but figured it pertinent to ask. That phone was probably at the bottom of the Delaware River by now.
“You tracking it?”
“Yep—if it’s used again, I’ll get an immediate notification.”
Unlikely.
“Great. You manage to get any location data from when the texts were sent or when it answered the call from Aaron?”
Vaughn’s phone beeped and he pulled it away from his ear. It was Delaney calling.
“Yes to the call from Aaron’s phone. It pinged the same towers as the 911 call.”
That was three days prior to the gassing. Their unsub was probably out at the barn putting up drywall.
Did he know the area well? Is that why he chose that location? Or was it just easy because it was abandoned and secluded?
Vaughn had driven around the location, although he wasn’t sure what he’d been looking for.
Building supplies?
It was farmland. Every farmer worth his salt had equipment to do home or barn repairs.
“The texts didn’t ping a tower,” Bowes continued. “Probably sent through WiFi. Haven’t been able to trace them and doubt I ever will; same circle jerk runaround VPNs like the speaker and door locks.”
Another beep.
Delaney was still trying to reach him.
“I’m getting another call. Thanks, Bowes. Let me know if that phone is used again.” Vaughn clicked over. “Delaney? What’s—”
“Detective Ryan, we got another call! I was looking for the victims’ cars at gas stations when dispatch reached out. I passed someone on the road, but had to get to the site—”
Delaney was excited, out of breath. Vaughn was having a hard time following.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Another 911 call! Same as the last! Gas leak. One dead.”
