Page 41 of His Every Move

Today, I started with digging into Eli’s neighbor and landlord, Brian, who had verbally confronted Eli about his job after someone complained about loud music coming from his apartment. It had turned out to be his roommate, Fran, who was apparently hard of hearing, but Eli fell on the sword and said it was his music, but it had nothing to do with the stream. Brian took it upon himself to try and convert Eli right there on the spot, talking about scriptures and getting saved.

Eli had asked how Brian found out he was a cam model, but Brian wouldn’t answer, which I found suspicious. Was he hiding the fact that he knew about Eli because he was secretly a big fan of his? Big enough to stalk and obsess over him? I had a background check run on him, and the results were in my inbox.

I opened them up to find… not much. The guy was pretty clean. There was a petty theft charge dating back fifteen years ago after he got caught shoplifting something, but other than that, he didn’t have much of a record. No restraining orders, no crimes, no unpaid parking tickets.

Still didn’t make him innocent, though.

I closed out of the background check and resorted to the next best source of information on a person: social media.

Thankfully for me, Brian had a pretty extensive and public online footprint. None of his accounts were private, and they all had plenty of posts to sift through. There were photographs of him and his wife—oop, no, make that ex-wife. Pictures with his new girlfriend, who I had mistakenly assumed was his daughter, were pinned to the top of the page. There were a couple of terribly designed graphics that depicted different bible verses sprinkled throughout his grid. His bio said, “God comes first.”

He also had a lot of travel photos, showing different plates of mouthwatering food—Spanish tapas, colorful sushi, sweet desserts—with impressive vistas behind them. He cheered next to the Eiffel Tower, he smiled with his girlfriend on a safari with a herd of gazelle behind them, he gave a thumbs-up to the camera as he snorkeled above a vibrant bed of pink and yellow coral reefs.

He was a traveler. Someone who could very well consider themselves to be a nomad.

I spent the next few hours digging through Brian’s digital history. He certainly liked to travel, but that wasn’t a strong enough link for me to follow. Yes, he lived close enough to Eli to know his whereabouts and keep an eye on him. He was also the landlord, which meant he had the keys to slip inside Eli’s apartment and snoop around while he wasn’t there. He had the means to do it, but why would he be escalating things? Was he maybe trying to push Eli out of the apartment? Was he trying to scare him away so that the sinful cam model wouldn’t be right next door to him?

Or was he so far up the church’s ass that he wanted Eli up his? His repressed sexuality could have easily turned malignant. Could have metastasized into something toxic, dark, monstrous.

I sighed, leaned back in my chair. My stomach grumbled. I considered shutting off my computer and finding somewhere to get lunch, maybe a beer or two just to loosen me up.

My phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number and was very much ready to tell off the random telemarketer on the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, hi, is this Detective Benji? You’re working a case for Elijah Grant, correct?”

“I am, who’s this?”

“This is Zack. His best friend. And I think I have some information for you.”

Huh. Well, guess lunch would have to wait.

Chapter15

Benji Morrison

Zack wantedto meet at a cozy coffee shop in Brooklyn. He was already waiting for me at a table flanked by two large green ferns. He stood up and immediately waved me over.

“Benji, hey there.”

He wore a pair of clean blue scrubs, a golden necklace shining from around his neck. A book bag rested at the foot of his chair, which he almost kicked over when he was sitting back down. He had a frantic energy to him, completely opposite to the calm and collected nature of his best friend.

Opposites attract, I guess.

“Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice,” he said, sipping from his coffee cup. “I was going to get you something but didn’t know your order.”

“It’s fine, I’m not a big coffee guy.”

“Really? Damn, I need an IV drip of pure caffeine. It’s the only thing getting me through nursing school. Well, that and Adderall.” He gave a chuckle. I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, proving his point.

“I’ll try not to keep you for long, then.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I’m just here to help in any way I can.”

“I appreciate it, and I’m sure so does Eli.” I leaned back in the wicker chair. The coffee shop was busy but not overly so. The walls were cluttered—in an artful way—with paintings made by local artists. All kinds of media were represented. Oil, sketches, watercolor, acrylic. A bright orange cat sat on a shelf, sunning and slowly twitching its long tail. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Pfft, I’m not even sure. Feels like forever now. We’ve been best friends for a while. We were both raised in the same small town. When he said he wanted to leave, I realized I wanted the same thing. We left together, both of us getting accepted into NYU.”

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