“I’m with you.”
My phone rang.
“It’s Alana,” I said, and I answered the call. “Hey there, I have you on speaker mode with Foxx.”
“Hey guys. I’ve been doing a little digging into Daniel Davis. Turns out he made a call to a burner phone after speaking with you guys,” Alana said.
“That’s interesting. Were you able to account for the other calls in his phone history?” I asked.
“I was. Nothing jumped out at me, though,” she said.
“Where did he work?” Foxx asked.
“I spoke with the manager of his apartment complex. He told me Daniel worked at the organic grocery store in Paia. I haven’t had a chance to swing by there yet.”
“What about Daniel’s bank account?” I asked.
“Regular direct deposits from his job but no large payment, if that’s what you’re getting at. I did go through his apartment but didn’t find any cash. If Daniel Davis was paid to lie to the police, then he did a good job of hiding the money,” Alana said.
“Maybe he already spent it,” Foxx said.
“It’s a possibility,” Alana said.
“Any more news from the medical examiner?” I asked.
“No. She’s scheduled the autopsy for tomorrow morning. I’ll check back with her then. What about on your end?” she asked.
I filled Alana in on our meeting with Tavii, including a description of the well-hidden safe, and Tavii’s admission that he thought his grandmother was probably guilty.
“I’ll see if I can get any updates from Josh. Maybe he’ll fill me in on how he found that safe,” Alana said.
“Sounds good,” I said.
“I gotta go.”
“See you, Alana,” Foxx said.
“Talk to you guys later,” she said, and she ended the call.
“Daniel Davis called a burner phone after we met with him. That’s pretty damning,” Foxx said.
Yes, it was, but there was no way to discover who owned the phone. We were still in the dark and we still had multiple suspects. There was also the real possibility that the guilty party was already in jail.
25
The Photos
Foxx and I decided to take another divide and conquer approach. He would work on learning more about Stan Cross, while I would transition back to the Guy Livingston investigation. They’d almost certainly finished closing arguments, and the case had then gone to the jury for final deliberations.
I’d told Guy and his attorney that I wouldn’t be rushing into the courtroom at the last minute to reveal the true killer, but I still felt the need to wrap up my investigation soon. I had a theory forming in my mind and I had a vague plan on how to prove it.
I drove home after getting my car from Harry’s. I said hello to Maui and retrieved my laptop from my home office. I walked outside to the patio. Maui followed me, of course. He took off sprinting after I’d opened the sliding glass door. He often feels the need to race to the far corners of the yard as if he expects to find some intruder.
I positioned my laptop under the shade of the patio umbrella and logged into my Facebook account. I rarely posted anything to the account. When I did, it was usually photos I’d taken around the island, or more likely shots of Maui…the dog, not the island. I mainly had the account so I could use it to snoop on suspects.
I found the Facebook page for Guy’s photography business. It showcased numerous shots of customers. They fell into one of three groups: families, couples, and young females. The family shots were all the same, and I know I’ve made this observation in past tales. Each family member was dressed identical to the others, which usually consisted of white dress shirts and khaki pants. There’s certainly nothing wrong with that, but one does wish for a little more originality from time to time.
The couples weren’t dressed like each other, but they definitely fell into patterns. Usually the man would be wearing a button-down, short-sleeve shirt, most likely silk or linen, and the woman would be wearing a flowy dress, sometimes a solid color, but many that had floral designs.
The single female photographs also resembled each other. The women all wore skimpy clothing, including string bikinis. One can only assume these shots were for their Instagram accounts. It was sort of a “Hey-look-at-how-sexy-I-am-on-an-island” vibe.
Faithful readers will know that I consider myself a decent photographer, and I gave Guy Livingston and his partner, Bella Bridges, high marks. The photography was well done. The lighting, locations, and composition were all quite nice too.
After going over his business page, I found Guy Livingston’s personal page. There wasn’t much there, which didn’t surprise me. I imagined it was hard to dedicate time to both pages, and I assumed his attention had been spent more on the business account. That said, I wasn’t really interested in his personal postings. Rather, I wanted to look over his list of friends.
It took just a few seconds to find the name Vincent Livingston. I clicked on that name and came to the conclusion that he was Guy’s brother. I sent him a direct message and asked him to contact me at once. I also let him know that I was investigating his brother’s case.
I didn’t know how long it would take for him to get back to me, so I walked into the house and changed into my running gear. I was almost through my three-mile jog when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but I hoped it was Vincent. I wasn’t wrong.
“Yes, Mr. Livingston. As I mentioned in my message, your brother hired me to look into his case.”
“Have you found anything yet?”
“I have a lead, which I’m hoping you can assist me with,” I said.
“Anything to help my brother.”
“I know this is a sensitive subject, but do you have any knowledge of your brother’s past affair?”
“What in the world does that have to do with this case?”
“The evidence against your brother is pretty damning, I’m sorry to
