Page 50 of Pied Sniper

“I thought they might ask for cryptocurrency for the ransom. That seems professional.”

“It’s possible, although I didn’t get that indication from the ransom video. We’ll deal with that issue if it arises.”

“Okay.” I stepped away, heading toward the open-plan kitchen. It was probably nice once, back in the nineties, but no one upgraded it since that time. Two cabinet doors hung off their hinges, and one of the drawer fronts lay on the floor. The refrigerator was empty and smelled moldy. While there wasn’t any trash, I saw the ominous signs of rodent droppings, indicating an infestation. I wrinkled my nose and moved to inspect the rest of the apartment. The sole bedroom was empty. The bathroom was missing a toilet. All the built-ins were pine. I stepped back into the living area. “Nothing in there,” I told him.

“I think I have something,” said Solomon from where he knelt on the floor.

“What is it?”

“A parking receipt.”

“Like a ticket?”

“No, from a parking garage. It’s dated a week ago. I found it crumpled in a ball over there,” he said, pointing to where the blinds met the carpet. “It might have fallen from a pocket and was too small to notice when they cleaned up.”

“Maybe the garage has cameras?” I suggested. “We could take a look and see if we can narrow down the vehicle and the driver to the date and time on the ticket.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“You know, I can see almost everything in Tiffany’s apartment from here,” I said. “This apartment has a better view into hers than she has out of it. Do you think she realized that?”

“Would she have moved in if she did? She doesn’t seem to value her privacy very much.”

“I don’t know. She’s happy to broadcast her life to an audience she doesn’t know but I guess there’s an element of safety behind the camera. She can start and finish taping when she wants, and clip whatever she doesn’t want people to see.”

“There’s something voyeuristic about watching that stuff.”

“She never crosses into webcamming territory, if that entered your mind,” I told him. “It’s all about her standard of living. Like a fashion or lifestyle magazine, but live. There’s no taking her clothes off like a cam girl would.”

“I didn’t mean that but it’s useful information. There’s still something kind of weird about putting your life online for stranger’s pleasure. It’s likeThe Truman Showexcept she’s a willing participant.”

“Hmmm.” I stared out the window into Tiffany’s living room. “Living in a fishbowl is a very different kind of voyeurism. I don’t see her doing that.”

“Then we should assume she didn’t know she could be, or was being, observed.”

“It could be a deranged fan.”

“Maybe… if they just wanted access to her personally, but a ransom was demanded. That smells like something else entirely.”

I thought about it and could see Solomon’s point. A deranged fan might want to get overly personal and insist on a relationship of some kind, but I couldn’t see someone with that mindset giving Tiffany up for any amount of money.

Solomon continued thoughtfully, “So, possibly a stranger who watched her online, knew she made a lot of money, found out where she lived, observed her, and then kidnapped her. Despite her crazy publicity ideas, everything points to money.”

“We should call this in to Garrett.”

“I agree.” Solomon snapped a photo of the parking receipt first. Then he held his phone to his ear. “Garrett, I have some information for you.”

Chapter Eleven

Solomon and I waited in the corridor for Garrett to arrive. When he did, less than half an hour later, Maddox and Farid were with him. “Have you been inside?” asked Maddox, looking directly at me.

“No,” I lied.

“You know why I asked you and not Solomon?”

I gave him a blank face. “I have no clue.”

“It’s easier to know when you lie.”

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