Chapter 22 #3
Ryder did a Google search on Jeff Maddox in Los Angeles and there were more than two dozen people with that name or a variation of it.
He narrowed it to the Westwood address, but quickly realized that this was a person Reid knew in college who likely no longer lived there.
Digging into social media, he found the correct Jeff Maddox.
He’d graduated from UCLA the year after Reid, now lived in Austin, Texas, and worked for a computer software company.
His social media showed that he was married with two kids and attended church regularly.
Ryder itched to call Maddox, but sent all the information first to the team. Catherine immediately responded and asked Michael
if he could contact Maddox for an interview ASAP.
Michael responded that he would, then he stepped inside the conference room and said to Ryder, “Bridget Thomas saw a woman
watching Matt and Kara at the pool, but there are no security cameras in the area, and the woman wore sunglasses, a hat, and
red bikini. Brian is looking through security footage from outside the pool deck to see if he can spot her. What’s this Maddox
thing?”
Ryder told him about the reference and that he may have background on Garrett that would be helpful.
Michael said, “Sit in on the call, you know more than I do about Garrett’s background.”
Michael closed the door to give them privacy, and Ryder dialed Maddox’s number, putting the phone on speaker.
Maddox gave them a bit of the runaround, and then said he’d talk if Michael would text him a photo of his badge and ID. After
they got that out of the way, he said, “What do you want to know? Is this like a background check or something?”
“Or something,” Michael said vaguely. “You’re talking to myself and analyst Ryder Kim, both of us with the FBI Mobile Response
Team.”
Maddox said, “Is Garrett in trouble?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to think. You called me.”
“Mr. Reid has been arrested,” Michael said. “We’re pulling together information about his background, so if you can help we
would appreciate it.”
“Wow,” Maddox said. “Well, I haven’t spoken to him in years. Maybe saw him once or twice after he graduated. I wasn’t really
into his scene, you know?”
Ryder slid a note over to Michael giving him the basics of what he knew about Maddox and that they had likely lived together in college, based on a shared address in Westwood during that time.
“Let’s start at the beginning. You know Garrett from college, correct?”
“We were roommates. I was a freshman, he was a sophomore, and I swear, I would have flunked out if Garrett hadn’t helped me.
The guy is a genius.”
“How so?”
“Just super smart. He explains things well. He was an engineering major. He changed after his sophomore year, I don’t remember
to what, but he was still smart. I told him he should like get a master’s or something and teach college. I was a computer
science major. It’s what I do now, programming. But I had to take these advanced math classes, and I just didn’t get it. Until
Garrett tutored me. And he didn’t even ask for money or anything, just helped me because we were roommates. So even when . . .
Well, no matter what, he was a friend.”
Ryder caught Michael’s eye and saw that Michael had the same thought.
“Even when what?” Michael asked.
“What was he arrested for?” Maddox answered the question with a question.
“Felony kidnapping, and he’s a suspect in multiple homicides.”
“Murder? Oh my God. That’s—wow.”
“What did you remember, Mr. Maddox?” Michael pressed.
“You’re not going to tell him I talked to you or anything, are you?”
He sounded wary. Was he scared of Garrett?
“No,” Michael assured him. “This is just for our records. We’re building a case, and I need to know everything about his past.”
“Well. Like I said, we were roommates,” Maddox said, at first talking slow, then seeming happy to share what he knew.
“Garrett doesn’t really care about people.
Okay, that’s not quite right. He’s friendly and will help people out and seems all genuine about it, right?
But then when you look at him, you realize he just doesn’t care about you.
He helps . . . but that’s easy. It’s easy for him to give you answers or explain a problem because he knows it. And he likes
people to think he’s smart and all that. I mean, he is smart. But if you like, um, tell him your mom died? He shrugs.”
“Did that happen to you?” Ryder asked. “Did your mom pass away?”
“Yeah. She died my junior year. Garrett, me, two other guys were renting an apartment off campus. I was really broken up.
My mom—well, she was the greatest. When she died—it was a stupid accident—I was destroyed. My oldest sister was pregnant and
losing mom was super hard for her, too. I mean, I know guys are supposed to keep all this inside and just be a rock? And I
was, for my sisters, because they needed me to be. I took over all the arrangements and sometimes, I wanted to just talk about
things, and Garrett . . . he didn’t understand, he didn’t want to understand. And then . . . he said my mom had been hot. That was so wrong. My mom was my mom. You know?”
His voice cracked and Ryder said, “I understand what you mean.” He glanced at Michael, and Michael nodded that his interjections
were appropriate and to jump in when he saw fit.
“I knew Garrett dated older women, and I’m not talking like thirty to his twenty. I ran into him after he graduated and he
was with someone old enough to be his mom. We just didn’t share the same values, you know?”
Ryder said, “He put you down as a reference for a job at a resort in Scottsdale, Arizona. Did you provide him with a good
recommendation?”
“Yeah, probably. I don’t remember specifics, but a couple times people called me for a personal reference and I always said he was a nice guy, we’d been roommates, and he was super smart.
Never late on the rent, things like that.
All true. Just not . . . emotional or sensitive to people.
I didn’t say that to anyone, of course, because seriously, I wouldn’t have graduated without his help. People can be good and bad, you know?”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Michael pressed.
“Well, I ran into him at the Odyssey about six months after his graduation. I was working there as waiter when I saw him with
a woman.”
“The Odyssey?”
“It’s a real nice restaurant in the hills in San Fernando, north of LA. I usually only worked weekend events—they do a lot
of wedding receptions and parties—but sometimes if I was free and someone called out, I’d go in and wait tables. Good tips.
I was doing that the last time I saw him.”
“And he was with an older woman. Do you know her name?”
“He pretended he didn’t know me, and I was fine with that because it was weird. And then—get this—he was flirting with another
woman while on a date with someone else. Total sleazeball move.”
“Another older woman?”
“No—someone closer to his age. She was pretty, would have been a knockout except over–made up. Not like a hooker or anything,
just too much stuff,” he finished lamely.
“You wouldn’t by chance know who she was?”
“No, but the bartender did. He said she came in a couple times a month, usually with a rich guy. I don’t know anything about
her, though I don’t think I ever saw her again after that night. Again, I didn’t work there much other than for events.”
“Could you describe her?” Michael asked.
“Not really. Twenties, thirty tops, pretty, blonde—though I don’t think it was natural. Tall with long, long legs. Dressed
classy. That’s really all I remember.”
Ryder was writing everything down when Michael asked, “Who was your manager then?”
“Um, the event manager was Leo Tanaka—I worked for him. The general manager was Jim or John or Jess or something like that—I didn’t really know him.”
“This is helpful, thank you,” Michael said.
Ryder spoke up, “One more question, Mr. Maddox. Do you know Becca McCarthy?”
“Becca? Well, sure.”
“How?”
“She was Garrett’s girl in high school, and she visited him a couple times in college, though she went to Point Loma. But
they split up . . . I don’t remember exactly what happened. I mean, they had broken it off after high school, but they still
kinda saw each other. Then they like had a fight or something, because she stopped coming by.”
“Was it her decision or his?” Ryder asked.
“I don’t know. Mutual? Maybe? He didn’t talk about his personal life at all. Hell, I didn’t even know he had two brothers
until he graduated. He didn’t talk about his family at all. And like the day after he told us he and Becca were through—and the only reason he told us was because she was supposed
to visit and we’d promised to get lost for a couple hours, you know—he was fine. Told us Becca left, wasn’t coming back, and
never mentioned it again. But . . . I think he really loved her. Just a few things he said, like comparing other girls to
Becca. No one was good enough, no one as pretty, or as funny, or as smart, stuff like that. Even after they split, he was
so matter-of-fact and talked about her as if she were perfect and no other girl could live up to her.”
“Do you know how to reach Becca?” Ryder asked.
“No, I haven’t seen her since. Sorry.”
Michael thanked him for his time and ended the call. “I screwed up.”
“No, how?” Ryder asked.
“I didn’t even think to ask about the girlfriend.”
“I did. That’s why you wanted me on the call, right?” Ryder finished writing up his notes. “Michael, we can’t all do everything. That’s why we’re a team. We pick each other up.”
Michael nodded, but looked away. Ryder didn’t know what to say to help Michael. They were all struggling not knowing where
Matt and Kara were, not knowing whether they were alive.
“Do you think you can find this Becca McCarthy?” Michael asked Ryder.
“Yes. Knowing that she went to Point Loma helps. They may be able to help me track her down, but I still have at least an
hour before the administrative building opens.”
Michael stood. “I’m going to reinterview the female staff.”
He walked out and Ryder put his head down for a minute. He had lied to Michael; he hadn’t slept at all last night. And he
couldn’t sleep now. He breathed deeply, recentered his emotions, then got up.
He had more threads to tug. He needed to start pulling until he found something—anything—that helped the team identify and
apprehend Garrett Reid’s partner.