She glanced at the watch in the evidence bag in her hand. “This is the only piece of evidence we have. It’s not enough to prove a crime even happened, let alone establish probable cause for a warrant. All we know is that Todd is out of reach. There are a couple of blood spots on the driveway, and we found a watch we think belongs to Brian Dylan in the woods. We believe Todd was jumped and abducted, but we don’t have any actual evidence that happened. He could have cut his hand and gone to a doctor for stitches. He could have lost his phone.”
“We need someone to confirm that Dylan wore that watch.”
Bree nodded. “Let’s hope this Shane Bartholomew is that person.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Bree stood in the monitoring room and stared at the screen showing interview room one and sized up Shane Bartholomew. Her deputy had found him at home, sleeping. His truck had been parked in his driveway. Spots of blood had been visible in plain sight in the truck bed, and an electronic search warrant had been obtained. A forensics tech was currently going through the pickup for additional evidence. Any lab tests on trace evidence would take too long, but the tire tracks on the road near Todd’s house matched Shane’s pickup. The vehicle caught on surveillance video definitely belonged to him.
They had no evidence Shane had done anything wrong, but they needed him to spill his guts.
Next to her, Matt sat at the table staring at the monitor, a laptop open in front of him. While they gathered enough evidence for the warrant to search Dylan’s property, Bree sent a deputy to sit on the road and watch his driveway. Unfortunately, the deputy wouldn’t be able to see the house, but he’d know if anyone entered or exited the property.
On the screen, Shane sat at the table, chewing a thumbnail. He was an average-looking twenty-one-year-old. About five nine, lean build. There was nothing remarkable about him. He was no Brad Pitt, but he wasn’t Quasimodo either. A jittery foot exhibited his nerves, and hunched shoulders conveyed his lack of confidence.
Matt looked up from his laptop. “Shane is currently unemployed. He used to work in the electronics department at Great Buy. He was recently fired after harassing the female employees.”
“What did he do?”
“He masturbated onto their lockers.”
“There’s an image I didn’t want in my head,” Bree said. “How does he know Dylan?”
“Like Dylan, he’s interested in all sorts of conspiracy theories and belongs to many of the same social media groups, including the Hudson Footmen.”
“So that’s how he knows Dylan.”
“Probably, but Shane is also a self-proclaimed incel.”
Bree had read articles about incels, short for involuntary celibates, a self-described group of men who couldn’t find women willing to have sex with them. These incels were angry and hostile toward women. They felt as if they were entitled to the sex they were being denied. A movement that had begun as a support group for dateless men evolved into a hate forum.
Matt said, “How do you want to work him?”
Part of a successful interrogation was reading the subject and determining which interviewer would get the best results. In this case, Bree sensed that Shane wouldn’t speak in the presence of a powerful female. She was the very thing he blamed for all his woes. Matt, on the other hand, was everything that Shane wanted to be.
Matt could be his hero.
“As much as I’d like a crack at him, Shane hates and mistrusts women. You’re an alpha male to his very apparent beta. He’ll be much more likely to open up to you.” She glanced at him. Physically, Matt was about as alpha as a man could get. He looked like he could snap Shane like a crayon. “We don’t have time to make mistakes. We need to crack this little jerk.”
“All we have on him is a video of his truck driving by Todd’s house. We have no evidence that Shane did anything wrong.”
“He doesn’t know that. But I wouldn’t focus on what he did anyway. Concentrate your questions on Dylan. As you said, we have no real evidence against Shane. But we know he was near the scene, so it’s reasonable to question him about what he might have seen.”
“OK.” Matt stood and cracked his neck. She watched him assume an arrogant persona like a Halloween costume as he went out the door.
Bree slid into the chair facing the monitor and turned up the volume. Matt swaggered into the interview room. He stood, looming over the table—and Shane—for a split second. Once his dominance was established, Matt introduced himself to Shane and extended a hand. “Thank you for cooperating.”