"What's this?"
"It's the Diehl Quadrangle on the Ardmore campus. It's a live feed. Those kids playing Frisbee are there right now."
"So these are security cameras?"
"No. All these feeds come from the kids. In most cases, it's just a fifty-dollar webcam propped onto a dorm windowsill."
Finley looked up. "You don't think—?"
"Rachel Kirby's shooter got to the campus security cameras, but he might not have thought of these. I talked to our tech guys, and it's doubtful that any of these feeds was intentionally recorded. But if the computer connected to this webcam has been on the entire time, footage may be cached in RAM or on the hard drive."
"Even from the day of the shooting?"
Gonzalez shrugged. "One way to find out."
* * *
An hour later, Detective Gonzalez was walking across the campus quadrangle, his brow furrowed, holding his laptop computer in front of him like a high-tech divining rod.
Finley smiled. "I wish I'd brought my camera. This would make an amazing picture." He glanced at Sergeant Michael Tunison, a self-described ubergeek who was obviously uncomfortable outside the small windowless computer lab he ran on the police headquarters' third floor. "He's definitely not in your league, Tunison."
"Few people are," Tunison said. "That's why you called me in. Do you think Rachel Kirby is here on campus today? I'd like to meet her."
"Afraid not," Finley said. "She's traveling this week."
Tunison shrugged. "That's okay. I'd probably start stuttering and stammering and just make a fool out of myself."
"You?" Finley gazed at him in surprise. "Really?"
"Oh, yeah. In my field, she's like a rock star."
"Whatever starts your engine."
Gonzalez stopped short, still staring at the laptop. "Here! Is this what we're looking for?"
Finley and Tunison huddled around and shielded the screen from the sun's glare. There were over half a dozen Wi-Fi devices listed. Gonzalez put his finger on one named WEBCAM1. "This one."
Tunison nodded. "Most webcams are connected by a USB cable, but a lot of them are wireless. If this is the one we've seen on the College Confidential site, that will make our jobs easier."
Tunison pulled out a small gray box with a bright LCD screen on its face. He spent a few seconds looking at it, then motioned toward the detectives. "This way."
Gonzalez and Finley followed him into the Donner Hall dormitory, then climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. They finally ended up in front of a dorm room at the end of the hallway.
Tunison studied his device a moment longer, then looked up. "It's here."
Finley rapped on the door.
"Who is it?" a male voice called.
"Houston Police Department. May we have a word with you?"
Silence.
Then there were hurried footsteps, the sound of a drawer being opened, then running water.
"What's happening?" Tunison whispered. "Should we go in?"
Finley smiled. "Naah, give him a minute."
Gonzalez turned to Tunison. "We're on a college campus, remember? The guy is most likely dumping a baggie of pot down the drain. Let him finish."
Tunison frowned. "Shouldn't we bust him?"
"Which would you rather do? Get cooperation on an attempted murder case or bust a kid for possession?"
The voice finally called out again. "I'll be right there!"
"Take your time," Finley replied.
After another thirty seconds, the water was shut off and the door was answered by a small, wiry young man with frizzy hair. His face was shiny with sweat.
"Bad time?" Gonzalez asked.
"No. I was just… studying."
"Good. I'm Detective Gonzalez, this is Detective Finley and Sergeant Tunison. You are… ?"
"Dana Moreshead. Is everything okay?"
"May we come in?"
"Uh, sure." He opened the door wide for them to enter. The room was small even by college-dorm standards, with posters that revealed a fondness for beer, pot, and Natalie Portman.
The kid caught Finley eyeing a poster that featured a U.S. flag with a marijuana leaf on it. He moistened his lips. "That's my roommate's."
Tunison stood at the desk, where the webcam was angled toward the window. As if empowered by the presence of tech gear, Tunison's entire demeanor changed, from nebbish kid to a born leader. He pointed to the camera. "Yours?"
Dana nodded. "Yeah."
"You stream video to the College Confidential site, right?"
"A lot of people do it," he said.
"I know," Tunison said. "Calm down. You're not in trouble. We're hoping you can help us out. How long has this computer been on?"
Dana shrugged. "I don't know. A couple months?"
"You're not recording this feed by any chance, are you?"
"No."
"Okay, I'm going to need to take this computer."
"What?"
"There may be some important evidence on your hard drive."
The kid glanced between Tunison and the two detectives. "Don't you need a court order or something?"
"Not if you give us permission," Gonzalez said. "If you choose to withhold permission, I'll wait here while my partner goes and gets a warrant."
Tunison moved the desk chair to get a look at the computer tower beneath the desk. "If there are any files on this you need, I can transfer them to a flash drive for you."
"Do we have your permission to take the computer, Mr. Moreshead?" Gonzalez strolled to the sink and gazed pointedly down the drain. "We'd truly appreciate your cooperation."
Dana froze. "Yes. Take it." He managed an uneasy smile. "No problem."
* * *
The Madonna Inn.
Rachel frowned as they pulled into the parking lot of the large hotel that was located approximately forty-five miles from Hearst Castle.
"A theme hotel?"
"Why not?"
"An odd choice. A Marriott would have been fine."
"But not as much fun. I thought you might need a complete change of pace."
"Whatever." She got out of the car and headed for the front entrance. "Just so it has a bed."
"Oh, they do. Of all descriptions. The theme rooms will amuse you."
"I can hardly wait. Next time you'll probably take me to Disney World."
"I'll work on it. But you'll find this a little more outrageous."
Outrageous was right, she thought, when the bellman escorted her to her room.
Hot pink walls and fur-lined mirrors.
"Good God."
Tavak chuckled. "I told you. Actually, you look very sexy surrounded by mirrors. It has a certain sensuality, doesn't it?"
"If you want to be hit over the head with it." She looked at him and realized he was right. The mirrors reflected the hot color and made Tavak appear in dramatic relief. He looked very lean, very muscular, and very, very male.
And she was experiencing a response to that maleness.
She tore her eyes away from him. "I can hardly wait to see what room they gave you."
"I can wait. I'm enjoying looking at you here." He turned away. "But I'm across the hall. Let's go and see what fantasy they chose for me. It's called Rock Bottom."
Very appropriate, Rachel thought when she saw the rock walls of his room.
"Not nearly as interesting. Though that waterfall on the wall is a little unusual," Tavak said as he propped his laptop on the small table. "I like to see you when you're out of your element. You looked great in hot pink. Why don't we set this up in your room?"