Page 147 of Don't Say a Word

John leaned down and clamped a hand on Scott’s shoulder. His full face came into view. He was a handsome young man, I thought. What a waste. “Just remember, don’t say a word beyond what we agreed to, understand?”

“I’m good. Thank you for trusting me with this. I won’t let you down.”

“You never have,” John said.

John left and a minute later Scott got up, bent down, and retrieved the camera. The video shut off.

“That’s why they killed him,” I said. “He tried to blackmail Brighton when he got out of jail.”

Lu started the second video, which was better quality. The feed was stationary, showing people going in and out of the Cactus Stop on Hatcher. We watched for five minutes before someone came in, used their EBT card, and received a receipt. Desi was behind the counter. Elijah came into view once as he stocked shelves.

Lu stopped the video and said, “This goes on for hours, showing fourteen people using their EBT card or their debit card and getting a receipt.”

Which confirmed Cal’s theory.

“A solid piece of circumstantial evidence,” Hitch said. “With these pictures—” he waved at the photos Elijah took “—we can rattle them. Someone will talk.”

“Will they?” I asked. “Ben and Cecilia didn’t.”

“I think,” Cal said slowly as he sat back down, “that Cecilia was trying to protect her son. That’s why she didn’t turn him in.”

I could buy that. “What’s Ben Bradford’s motive?”

“He loved his wife?” he suggested.

Maybe, I thought. Or he remained silent to protect his family.

“What’s the third video, Lu?” Jack asked.

Lu said, “I found the date stamp code for each video. The first was taken the day before Eric was shot. The second longer video was taken on June 3 of this year. This last video was taken July 5.” She played it.

It was Megan Osterman, sitting on her bed in the tiny room behind the garage. She looked sick, hollow and drained. She had been crying.

July 5. The day before she died.

“My name is Megan Osterman. I miss Scott so much and I think they killed him.” She breathed in deeply. “On this flash drive is a video and that’s why Scott is dead.” She scratched her face, drawing attention to an open wound on the side of her head. From drug use, like a large open zit.

“Okay, from the beginning. I am Megan Osterman. I’m going to rehab tomorrow. I think. I’ll try. Scott gave me this flash drive before he went to jail. He told me to hide it, to not say a word. I kept my promise. And then he got out of jail and said to bring it to him, so I did, but he wasn’t there and he never came back. I hid it again, because I thought he would call. Then I forgot. And I found it today. I never watched it until today, and they had him killed like they wanted Eric killed, and they’ll kill me. I saved the video Elijah gave me for evidence. Eli says he needs it later and to keep it in a safe place, and this is a safe place.”

She looked at a spot beyond the camera for a long minute, periodically scratching her face. She started talking without looking at the camera, but it was clear no one else was in the room. “Eli found a place for me and said if I really, really, really want to be clean, I have to go. I do. But I’m scared. I don’t have a life anymore and Scott is gone and I know he’s dead because he wouldn’t leave me. I asked Desi where is he? Where did he go? And she said he left because I’m an addict. And no!” She pounded her fists on her bed. “I’ll get better. I’ll get better!”

She looked back at the camera, straightened up, and said, “Eli said I need to go to rehab to keep me safe because he’s going to the police with this video. And if I’m clean, I can tell the police how everything works because I know things. I used to be a dealer for Desi. Until I took too much.”

She lit a joint and took a deep drag. Her eyes got glassy, but she spoke clearer. “I’ve been wondering lately if Desi killed her own brother. Scott worshipped her, because their parents were shit. Dad left, mom a drunk, Desi basically raised him. Treated him like shit too, but Scott doesn’t listen to me about her.” Another drag. “I’m sorry, Mom. You are a great mom, really, and I’m going to get clean, for me, and for you. I didn’t realize how good a mom you were until I saw how shitty other moms are. Anyway, I want to look back on this so I know how far I’ve come. When I’m clean.” Another drag. “I go in Monday. Maybe Tuesday. Fuck. I’m scared.” She smiled, but it was a sad, sad, smile. The video ended.

No one said anything for a minute.

Cal kicked a chair and walked out. I didn’t see that coming.

“His older sister died of an overdose when they were in high school,” Hitch said quietly. “It sometimes hits too close.”

Hitch turned to Lu and motioned to the flash drive. “Can I have that?” he asked. “We’re going to put the wheels in motion. Major investigation into the Cactus Stop. It’ll take time, but we’ll shut them down.”

Lu tossed it to him. “It’s a copy,” she said when Jack and I both scowled.

Hitch said, “We could go in undercover, run through the scam, build a background, but it’ll take a lot of time. Maybe now, we won’t have to, but getting a warrant even with this drive might be difficult. We’ll run it up the chain.”

Cal walked back in. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll take this to my boss first thing Monday morning, but we’ll get a warrant on the first video alone. I don’t want to wait until Ramos does his audit. Family complicates everything, and we have a clear case of John Brighton giving a gun to the man who attempted to kill a government witness and instructing him to blame Bradford.”