Decker stepped inside the freezer and looked around. He noted that the door had a safety mechanism that allowed anyone inside to open it. That way one couldn’t become trapped inside and freeze to death.
Then he noticed it. Or felt it, rather.
Freezers were supposed to be really cold, set at zero, in fact. This freezer was merely cold. Maybe not as cold as even the temperature outside.
He checked the temperature gauge. No wonder. It read forty-five. He opened up some of the containers in the freezer and saw what he expected to see. The meat and other perishables had defrosted and were beginning to go bad. They would have to throw them out.
So the guy had upped the temperature in the freezer and used it as his hiding place. And Melissa Dalton had heard exactly what she thought she had. A whooshing sound as the guy emerged at 7:28. But why hide in the freezer? And how did he get in the school to begin with? Presumably the freezer was used during the day, so he had to have come in after hours. And he had to have come in the night before the shooting. Otherwise he would have been discovered when the freezer door was opened by the kitchen staff when they began their duties.
Next question: What would coming in here gain him?
And the mother of all questions: How could he have walked from the cafeteria at the front of the school all the way to the back to commence his rampage and no one see him? It was like he’d teleported in from a spaceship.
Fresh questions started coming in waves to Decker as the potential suspect pool morphed.
What about visitors? Parents? Outside service people? Lancaster hadn’t mentioned anyone like that. But he presumed that anyone in the school at the time would have been held for questioning. That was the most basic rule of a criminal investigation. No one got to simply walk away. But there had been a gap between the shootings and the police shutting down ingress and egress. The shooter had to have made his escape then. But how had he done it without being seen?
Decker came out of the freezer and closed it behind him. He walked a few paces and looked up. The freezer did not have a hiding place. But here was something.
He grabbed one of the chairs and planted it in the middle of the room. He heaved himself up onto the chair. With his height he bumped his head against the tile ceiling. A drop-down ceiling, what people also called a floating ceiling, since the light tiles rode on metal racks that hung down about two feet from the actual permanent ceiling. It had been a retrofit, he knew, done long after the school was originally built. No one was installing drop ceilings in the 1940s.
He lifted one of the ceiling tiles and poked his head through. Using his phone as a flashlight, he shone it around the darkened interior of the space. There was a lot of crap up here, including electrical lines, pipes for the sprinkler system, and HVAC ductwork. There was no way a guy that big could fit up here. And even if he had managed it, the light supports wouldn’t have held his weight. He repositioned the chair three more times until he found something. Not up top, on the floor. A bit of ceiling tile dust. He looked at the spots that he had already examined. There was a bit of such dust now under each because he had lifted the tiles there and dislodged the grainy material. But he hadn’t touched the tiles at this spot.
He took pictures of everything from different angles. Then he positioned his chair and hoisted himself up once more. He used his hand, covered with the sleeve of his jacket so as to not smear or add to any fingerprints already there, to push the tile gently up. He poked his head through and looked around. The space was empty here. No pipes or electrical lines or ductwork. What was here was space to hide something. Like cammie gear and perhaps even weapons.
He looked over every inch of space and then hit pay dirt.
Snagged on a metal support was a thread. He shone his light on it. It looked beige. At another support point there was a smudge in the dust. And a third spot might just be oil residue from maybe a shotgun wedged there.
He touched nothing, climbed down, and texted Lancaster. The forensics team would have to come down here and tear this place apart. While he was waiting for them, he walked to the exterior door opening onto the small loading dock.
“Shit.”
It had looked locked, but when he had leaned his bulk against the door it had fallen open, prompting his expletive. He stepped out onto the small loading dock. It was surrounded by a six-foot-tall wooden fence. With his height he could see over. Some garbage cans were located here, as well as a small Dumpster. And wooden crates were stacked in one corner. Decker nudged open the fence gate and peered out.
Two parking spaces, both empty now. Off that, a short strip of cracked asphalt and then a chain-link fence that led to a long row of ten-foot tall bushes and other shrubbery that had grown up right next to the fence. He walked quickly over to the fence. At the spot opposite from the kitchen entrance he pushed his way through the bushes. The chain-link fence here was split right down the middle. He shone his cell phone light over it. Rusted. It had been this way for a while. He continued through the bushes and came out on the other side. Here was a path that led down into the woods that had been next to the school since forever.
Easy come, easy go.
Chapter
15
LANCASTER WHITTLED DOWN her gum while a tech team scoured the cafeteria and kitchen area. Outside, teams of police and FBI agents were following the trail that Decker had showed them.
Decker leaned against one wall of the cafeteria, his hands in his pockets, and took in all that was going on. Lancaster walked over to him.
“We had looked in the freezer before,” she said. “But we didn’t check the food or the temperature gauge. That was an oversight. I’m sure we would have noticed it later.”
“You were looking for a shooter, clearing rooms,” Decker said. “Not worrying about spoiled hamburger. I didn’t have to worry about that. I was just nosing around.”
“Right, after you took off from the library without a word. I called after you, you know. I could have come with you, Amos.”
He noted her hurt look and then gazed around. It had not occurred to him at the time. She was still on the police force, so her and Decker finding this new line of investigation together would have helped her career. As it was, it had been Decker’s discovery, which helped Lancaster not at all.
“I…I didn’t—”
“Forget it,” she said abruptly. “You did the same thing when we officially worked together.”
“I did?”
“I guess it’s just a quirk of yours. Although for a guy who has this great memory, I would have expected you to remember doing it. At least to me.”
“I’m a little out of sorts here, Mary.”
Her irritation seemed to lift. “No, I think you’re getting your mojo back. I knew you would. That’s the important thing.”
“It’s not like you need me to solve this case. You have a lot of resources.”
“The thing is, Amos.” She looked down for a moment, chewing her gum. Then she gazed up at him and said, “Truth is, I miss working with you. I think we made a good team.”
Decker nodded but said nothing.
As the moments went by, Lancaster evidently realized he was not going to comment on this admission. She said, “But what I don’t get is, if he was in here, how did the video camera capture him at the rear entrance? It doesn’t jibe.”
Decker pushed off the wall. “I’ll show you.”
He led her to the rear of the school and pointed at the camera that had captured the image of the gunman. “Check the angle.”
She stared up at the lens. “Okay.”
Keeping to one side of the rear foyer, Decker circled around so that his back was to the rear door. Then he stepped to his left. “This is the spot where the camera picks up an image. I could see it on the feed. That middle door behind me is the only one in the frame.”