Tuesday
Noon
Keri put on her latex gloves and stepped into Payton Penn's cabin for the second time today. She walked the surrounding property before coming in, on the off chance that Ashley was being held in some belowground alternate location. She found nothing.
That didn't surprise her. With his airtight alibi, there was no way Penn could have taken Ashley himself, which meant he had to have help. And if he didn't want to personally get his hands dirty, it made no sense to have her brought back to his own home. She was being held somewhere else.
That's why the first thing she did upon entering the cabin was open the outdated laptop sitting on the coffee table. The dust that had accumulated on it made her nervous. That meant it hadn't been used in a while. One would have expected him to keep in touch with his partner regularly.
A quick search showed that the internet history had been cleared. Not suspicious on its own. But in context it added to her misgivings.
Why does a guy who lives alone in an isolated cabin clear his history? It's not like he has to hide porn from anyone. So what is he hiding?
She went to his bookmarks and pulled up his Yahoo email account. For a guy who was so cautious about his search history, he was pretty sloppy with this. He hadn't logged out the last time he'd been online so the page loaded directly to his inbox rather than requiring a password. Keri did a few quick searches-"abduct," "niece," "Penn"-no luck. She thought for a moment, then tried "van." An email popped up with the username bambamrider22487. She searched for any others with that name and hit the jackpot.
The first one was from bambamrider22487 a month ago and read:
Re: The Big Game:
Per our mutual friend, I have agreed to sell you my ticket. It will cost you $20. It will be waiting for you under seat 21, top deck section 13 at Dodger Stadium this Thursday night. If you take it, I will assume you want to attend and that the price is right.
Payton, under the username PPHeeHee, replied:
Will be there.
The next correspondence was two weeks later, from Payton Penn to bambamrider22487. It read:
Per your request, I have a van for the game. It is in the recommended lot. Keys taped to driver side front inner tire.
The next correspondence was a week ago, from bambamrider22487 to Payton Penn:
The game is a week from today. 1500-West. Please confirm. This will be last chance to skip attending.
Payton replied an hour later:
Confirmed.
Some of it was easy to figure out. The big game was obviously the abduction. She suspected that the $20 price meant $20,000 to take Ashley. The van was self-explanatory. 1500-West was almost certainly military time for 3 PM at West Venice High.
But if Payton was at the Dodgers game, he already had a ticket. So what was the "ticket" left under the seat? Then it hit her. There was something in one of the emails saying "Per your request, I have a van for the game."
But there hadn't been any email correspondence requesting a van. It must have come verbally. The "ticket" was a phone, most likely a burner. Keri glanced at Payton's cell phone lying on the couch where she'd tossed it earlier. It was a fancy Android-definitely not a burner. That meant the other one was somewhere else in the house, probably well hidden considering its sensitive nature.
Keri closed the laptop and looked around the room. She tried to put herself in Payton Penn's shoes. Where would he hide the phone?
He's careful enough to know it needs to be hidden. He cleared his search history. But he also left his e-mail accessible. He was smart enough to put some kind of emergency call beacon on his phone to reach his lawyer. But he also admitted that to me. This man is a combination of paranoid, sloppy, lazy, and cocky. Where would a guy like that leave his phone?
It occurred to her that he'd want it easily accessible wherever he was in the small cabin but not personally on him. It was probably in this room. As her eyes scanned her surroundings, Keri imagined Payton rushing over to grab the ringing phone, hoping to get to it before it went to voicemail.
Close but not too close.
And then her eyes fell on the one item in the cabin that didn't look like it belonged to Payton Penn. On the mantel above the fireplace, between an empty beer can and an empty DVD case for something called Barely Legal: Volume 23, was a small antique clock, about the size of a tissue box, with ornate Roman numerals on the face. It didn't strike Keri as Payton's style. In addition, it read 6:37 and the time right now was 12:09.
She walked over and picked it up. It was much lighter than she expected and she could hear a rattle inside. She felt around the edges until her finger brushed against a small indentation in the wood on the bottom. She pushed it and the entire underside of the clock popped off. Inside was a small cubby holding a cheap flip phone.
Keri took it out and looked at the call log. Starting three weeks ago, several calls came to Payton from different phone numbers. She dialed them one by one. The first one was a payphone. The second one was a different payphone; same for the third, and the fourth. Then, on the seventh number, after six rings, the call went to a brief voicemail.
"Leave a message." The voice was bland and unremarkable, but Keri knew this had to be Ashley's abductor. She put all the numbers in her own phone, carefully returned Payton's to the clock, put it back on the mantel, and left the cabin.
Once back in her car and driving down Payton's endless driveway, she made three calls. The first was to Detective Edgerton, back at the station. He was the tech guru of the unit. She gave him all the numbers and asked him to trace their locations. She also gave him the Yahoo user name "bambamrider22487." She was almost certain it was an anonymous account. This guy was much more careful than Payton. Then she put Edgerton on hold while she called Sheriff Courson. She kept it short and to the point.
"Sheriff, I'm headed out of town but I realized no one has secured Payton Penn's cabin. Our CSU team won't be there for another hour or so. I would hate for anyone, say a fancy LA lawyer, to head out there and 'clean up' the place. Maybe you could have one of your people secure it until our team gets there."
"I think that's a wonderful idea, Detective," Courson agreed. "We'll have someone out there in ten minutes.
"Thank you," she said before switching back to Edgerton, who was ready with the information she needed.
Her next call was to Ray but it went straight to voicemail. That wasn't a shock as he was probably making his way up through the mountains to Twin Peaks right now and in an area with limited service. She left a message anyway.
"Ray. I hope you get this soon. Payton Penn is involved. I found e-mails between him and a hired kidnapper in the cabin. I also found a burner phone with numbers in the log. Edgerton traced them for me. The last one had an address and a name-Alan Jack Pachanga, thirty-two. He's been in and out of lockup since he was a teenager, mostly for assault, armed robbery, and other good stuff. But he's stayed off the radar for the last couple of years. He lives on a farm near Acton. Edgerton can give you the exact details if you call him. I'm headed there now. At this time of day, with sirens, I figure it'll take me a little over an hour. Maybe you want to join me? I'll try to hold off until you get there. But you know me, always doing something dumb."
She hung up and tossed the phone on the passenger seat, realizing she must still be a little pissed at her partner for not backing her up earlier. Or was there something more to it?
She pushed the thought out of her head. They'd work out their issues later.
As Keri pulled onto Highway 138 and headed west, she put the siren on her roof and gunned the accelerator, going as fast as the mountain road would allow.
Hold on, Ashley. I'm coming.
