“Christ. What’d it say? ‘Come star in a mass killing’?” said Ray. “Who’d apply for that?”
Kari came back on the line and recited a name and phone number, which Mason neatly printed in Ray’s notebook. Zander held out his hand, and Mason passed him the information.
“Why are you asking about this?” she said slowly. “How can an acting job have anything . . .” She trailed off. “Oh, my God. You think he thought the bullets were fake? That the people he shot were acting? That can’t be right.”
Mason paused, remembering they hadn’t made public the one-shooter theory or shared it with the families. As far as Kari knew, the police still believed AJ had killed several people. “We’re exploring several different theories.”
“So he didn’t know the gun would kill him?” She sounded skeptical. “He’s not stupid. He wouldn’t pull a trigger on a fake gun in his mouth.”
“That’s not exactly where we’re going with this,” said Mason. “Let me pursue it further. If what we’re doing amounts to anything, we’ll let you know.” The evasion felt heavy on his tongue. They were 99 percent certain AJ hadn’t shot anyone, but they couldn’t risk warning the shooter by having the knowledge go public. Mason ended the call, repeating his promise to update her when they had some facts.
“Okay. We’ve got a name of an actor friend of AJ’s,” Mason said. “I’ll call him and see if he’s familiar with a job AJ may have accepted recently. I bet he can give us more information on those job boards, too.”
Zander looked up from his laptop, where he’d done something with the friend’s name. “I’ve got a home address for him if you’d rather go in person. He’s not far.”
Mason looked at Ray, who shrugged. “Why not?”
Portland Community College sat on top of a hill on some of the most expensive real estate in Oregon, but Simon’s apartment was at the bottom of the same hill and backed up to the interstate. Mason stepped out of the vehicle and slammed his door shut, listening to the roar of the traffic. There wasn’t room between the freeway and Simon’s apartment for anything. A tall concrete wall separated the two, and Mason wondered how unbearable the noise would have been without it.
“I wouldn’t be able to live here,” Ray stated loudly.
“I don’t think it matters much when you’re in your twenties,” Mason replied. He’d lived wherever he could afford at that age. Especially during college. Sleep in a friend’s freezing basement for the winter? Sure. He’d counted himself lucky that it was cheap and had a portable heater. He shuddered, thinking of the ancient heater he’d used. He was lucky he hadn’t burned down the house. This squat apartment building had fresh paint and plenty of parking; Simon could have done a lot worse. He and Ray followed Zander up the concrete steps to the second floor and knocked.
“I’ll sit back on this one,” Zander said quietly. “Unless I’m needed.”
Mason nodded, figuring the agent didn’t want to intimidate AJ’s friend. If Simon appeared to be less than helpful, they had an FBI agent they could dangle in front of him. Footsteps sounded and Mason and Ray pulled out their IDs. The footsteps stopped and Mason held his ID in front of the peephole in the door.
“Can I help you?” came a male voice from inside.
“Simon Goethe?” asked Ray.
A pause. “Yes.”
“As you can see, we’re with OSP. We’d like to talk to you about AJ Weiss.”
The door immediately opened and a tall dark-haired young man studied them. “AJ was a good friend,” he said softly. “I can’t believe he did it.”
Mason nodded. “Well, we’re exploring a possibility that he didn’t. Can we come in?”
Simon led them into a cramped sitting room with a view of the concrete wall. Mason tipped his head at the window. “I assume your rent’s pretty good?”
The young man snorted. “For the area. Anything close to the college costs more than I want to pay. I make do.”
“You did acting stuff with AJ,” Ray stated. He, Mason, and Simon took seats. Zander leaned against the wall, keeping a close eye on Simon, staying silent. Mason noticed the young man steal a couple of quick looks at the agent. Zander hadn’t held up ID the way he and Ray had.
“Yeah, we belong to a group that meets once a month up at the college. We met a few years ago in an acting class downtown.”
“I understand there’re job boards where actors can find jobs,” Mason stated.
Confusion crossed Simon’s face. “There are. I assume it’s like that for any kind of profession.”
Good point. Mason hadn’t job-hunted in decades. He wouldn’t know where to start.
“AJ’s girlfriend, Kari, told us AJ had recently lined up a job, but she didn’t know where he’d heard about it.”
Simon was instantly wary, and Mason tensed at the sight. “What’s that have to do with his shooting?” Simon asked.
“It’s a bit hard to explain, but we need to find out where he lined up a job that gave him a clothing allowance and sent him to buy some clothes at Dick’s Sporting Goods.”
Alarm registered in Simon’s eyes. “Why? Why do you need to know where he was going to work?”
“Simon, do you know where he got the job?” Ray asked quietly. Dozens of times over the years, Mason had watched Ray interview witnesses and suspects. Each time someone appeared to hold back, the former college football player would magically shift his shoulders and bulk to increase his size. Like right now. Ray looked like a linebacker sitting in a skeletal chair. Mason had tried the same movement in front of a mirror at home and could never replicate the results. Could have something to do with Ray outweighing him by fifty pounds.