Page 85 of The Last Close Call

“Yeah, but I think that’s another instance of misdirection. I have no concrete evidence that he ever actually lived in Missoula. But if law enforcement were to go looking for him—say, hypothetically, because of a suspicious house fire in which two people died—they might conclude that he slipped into Canada to avoid police.” Dara looked at Jack. “I assume he’s wanted for questioning in that case, which is why you hired me?”

“That’s part of it,” Jack said.

Dara lifted an eyebrow, obviously intrigued by Jack’s answer, and Rowan knew that at some point Dara was going to hit her up for the rest of the story about Anderson.

But Rowan wasn’t going to be able to tell her anything. She wasn’t at liberty to disclose details of the investigation.

“Here’s the thing,” Dara said, turning back to her computer. “This guy’s good. I’ve done a lot of skip tracing—Ponzi scammers, insurance cheats, deadbeat dads. This guy is way more sophisticated than the people I normally deal with, and he’s clever, too. But still he’s human, which means he’s prone to the top mistake that I see over and over.”

“Which is?” Jack asked.

“People are creatures of habit,” Dara said. “I mean, from a psychological standpoint, it’s really hard to sever all ties in your life. Even when people want to wipe the slate clean and start over, it’s really difficult to pull off. Old habits die hard.”

Rowan looked at Jack, and she could see what he was thinking. Habits like stalking. Rape. Murder.

Dara tapped the mouse on her notebook computer, bringing yet another screen to life. The screen showed a criminal background check website and what looked like someone’s driver’s license photo.

“This is Gordon Reilly,” Dara said. “Will Anderson’s freshman roommate.”

“I thought he dropped out his freshman year,” Rowan said.

“He did,” Dara replied. “But he was there five months, which was enough time for these two to get to know each other. So, I tracked this guy down—”

“How?” Jack asked.

“I can’t disclose my methods, sorry,” Dara said, not looking sorry at all. Rowan happened to know that some of her “methods” weren’t strictly legal.

Dara used the mouse to enlarge the picture. “Anyway, this guy also said he hasn’t seen Will in years. But he was a great source of info. He told me all about Will’s hobbies, which include gaming. And his favorite food—tacos. And his favorite hangout his freshman year, which was a bar on Sixth Street where they accepted crappy fake IDs. And that was particularly interesting.” Dara folded her arms over her chest. “Most college kids get fakes off the Internet. Not Will, though. This ex-roommate launched into a story about how Will swiped his off some guy who looked like him.”

“He stole it?” Rowan asked.

“Yeah, and it was bold as hell, too.” Dara looked at Jack. “My take is, this goes back to that whole thing with him working for the call center where people reported their stolen credit cards. According to this friend, Will went to a gym and waited in the parking lot until he saw a guy who resembled him and then followed him home. He snuck into the man’s house while he was in the shower and stole his wallet.”

Rowan looked at Jack.

“Pretty brazen, right? That’s why Gordon Reilly remembers it,” Dara said. “He said Will was always doing stuff like that, just walking into places, bold as hell.”

“We think he has a history of burglary,” Jack said.

He sounded composed, but Rowan could tell this info about Will letting himself into houses had absolutely grabbed his interest.

“If you want to know my theory?” Dara said. “I think he did it again.”

“Did what?” Rowan asked.

“Found someone who resembles him and stole an ID. He could be living under that stolen identity now, flying below the radar as much as possible, just using the driver’s license as a backup whenever he has to present it for some reason, like buying booze or whatever. But I can tell you this—he’s absolutely taking pains to keep his digital tracks covered. It’s no wonder you’ve had trouble finding him.”

Jack didn’t comment.

“I’ve seen this sort of thing before, and often it entails a guy using a woman,” Dara added. “He takes up with someone, gains her trust, then starts using her identity to dodge the kind of digital footprint we leave when we have to do pretty much anything, from signing a lease to buying something online. Any reason to believe he has a girlfriend?”

“Nothing concrete,” Jack said. “But I see how it would help him.”

“Anyway.” Dara turned back to the screen. “That wasn’t the most important thing I learned from this ex-roommate. I also learned that—as expected—Will Anderson is a creature of habit. In this case, gaming. He couldn’t stay away. Gordon told me he hasn’t seen Will in years, but he crossed paths with him on Reddit.”

Jack tensed beside her. “When?”

“Couple months ago. They were on a thread about Assassin’s Creed, which apparently Will has been playing for years. Gordon recognized his username and they ended up exchanging emails.” She smiled again. “And when I heard that, it was—boom!—game over.”

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