The Competition - [81]

Ready.

Two assault rifles, locked and loaded, poked through the window to the theater.

Aim.

As the lights dimmed, the guns tipped down toward the audience. One shifted to the right, the other to the left.

The opening scene-a four-car pursuit-began to play. The sound track blasted the screech of tires, the clash of metal on metal as the cars careered through tight city streets, slamming into walls, parked cars, and mailboxes.

Finally, the cue: a long hail of bullets.

Fire!

The projection booth filled with manic laughter and gunshots. Blam! Blam! Blam!

Down in the theater below, people began to scream.

52

Graden had the letter brought into his office, so we gathered there. Nick had asked to be included in the meeting because he’d helped trace the postmark on the last letter. Once again, there were two envelopes. I put on latex gloves and took the folded paper out of the evidence box with shaking hands. Bailey and Nick read over my shoulder.

Hey, Rachel, I bet you thought this would be an easy one, didn’t you? After all, how hard could it be to chase down a couple of kids? I guess you’re finally realizing how superior we are to all you losers. Especially you. You’re turning out to be quite the disappointment. Otis-a “person of interest.” Ha! He’s a lot more interesting dead than he ever was alive.

I know, you think you can figure me out, just like all those headshrinkers. All you fools with your clichés and psychobabble. You have no fucking clue. You’ve never seen anyone like me. I’m the best you’ve ever seen or ever will see. You’re not going to get your happy ending this time, Rachel.

Because life is not a movie. Good guys lose, everybody dies, and love does not conquer all.

“So this is the guy who supposedly wrote eloquent poetry?” Bailey said.

“Not exactly Keats,” I agreed. “But he’s not aiming for an A in English.”

“How did he find out that we know Otis is dead?” Graden asked. “I don’t remember releasing that information-”

“You didn’t,” Bailey said. “He screwed up. He thinks he’s digging on his own private joke, making fun of us for calling Otis a ‘person of interest.’”

“Laughing at how we fell for the decoy,” I said. “Back when we first found out Otis was dead, we hit on the possibility that they deliberately framed Otis to throw us off. That the second shooter might’ve deliberately mimicked Otis’s laugh.”

“But we weren’t sure Otis wasn’t in on it, so we kept looking for more evidence to link him to the shooting,” Bailey said. “We’ve found nothing. All we have is what we started with: the weird laugh and Logan’s photograph on Otis’s computer.”

“So we figured they probably did set Otis up as a decoy-” I said.

“And this letter proves it,” Bailey said. “I’d bet Shane-or whoever the second shooter is-sent that photo the night before the shooting to frame Otis.”

“So the second shooter screwed over his buddy, Logan?” Nick asked. “’Cause that photo dumps Logan out big-time.”

“I thought so too at first,” I said. “But actually, it doesn’t. So what if Logan’s holding a gun? We couldn’t even prove the gun in the photo was real, let alone that it was his. And the upside for them was huge: it bought them time while we chased a dead boy.”

“Then Logan could’ve sent it himself,” Nick said.

Graden looked skeptical. “But how could they be sure they’d be able to find Otis near the library in all that chaos?” he said. “If he’d survived, we would’ve been able to clear him pretty fast. So how could they know Otis would be close enough to the library at just the right time?”

“Logan was friendly with him,” I said. “Remember, Evan said he saw Otis going over to talk to Logan that morning. So Otis might’ve said he was going to be in the library-or Logan might’ve told Otis to meet him there. But then again, maybe they didn’t know. It’s entirely possible they decided to use Otis as a decoy and then just lucked out to find him near the library. I don’t think they needed him to be dead. It just bought them more time that way.”

“True,” Nick said. “It was no biggie if they didn’t kill him. The mislead would work for at least a little while no matter what.”

“Well, at least we can finally clear Otis,” Bailey said. “You agree, Lieutenant?”

“Yeah,” Graden said. “Write it up. We’ll notify the parents right away.”

Finally, a piece of good news. I looked back down at the letter. Something else was bothering me. “That last line.” I studied it again. “It’s familiar somehow. But something’s off about it. It’s not right.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Nick said. He stared at the letter. “Wait, I think I’ve got it. It’s from that movie with Kevin Spacey, Swimming with Sharks.”

I looked at him, surprised. “You’re a movie buff?” Nick shrugged. I considered the line again. “I’ll be damned. You’re right.”

I turned back to the letter and tried to figure out what was wrong with the quote. Then I had it. An icy chill gripped my heart. “It’s everybody lies. Not everybody dies.”

53

A theater. I’d figured it out. Just not in time. A movie’s take on the human condition. A movie about the movie business. A quote from that movie-with just one word changed. But we were set up to fail. By the time we got the letter, it was already too late. And even if there’d been some lead time, there was no way to know which theater, or even which city. Los Angeles? Or in Shane’s neighborhood, Camarillo? Or in Boulder? It was another needle in a haystack.