Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Back at the precinct, Officers Johnson and Holloway set to work finding out more about the occupants at the Broderick home. Vivian told Tyler to start with Ian Broderick and his wife, Kristy. In just a few minutes, he was able to find some information. “No arrests. Just a few parking tickets,” he said, “and the wife, whose full name is Kristine, got a speeding ticket last winter. Twelve miles over the posted limit.”
“She was in a hurry. Probably heading out to get a mani-pedi,” Vivian said with a chuckle. “Those nails aren’t going to paint themselves, you know.”
“I also found that everything at the house—the property tax and deed—are in Dana Broderick’s name. Ian’s family must rent from her.”
“Or they’re permanent guests.”
“Must be nice.”
Vivian shrugged. “Whatever it is, it’s between them and not a legal issue.”
A quick online search showed that their son, Brayden, had recently graduated from a local private high school with honors. Photos on the school’s website showed him posing with another graduate, Charlie Weber. Tyler checked out the Weber kid as well and said, “Charlie’s family lives behind the Brodericks. The kids are neighbors.”
“Probably friends, based on the photo and proximity.” She mentally filed that one away. By itself, it wasn’t important, but you never knew when a random factoid might become a piece of the puzzle.
A search for Ronald and Martha Canfield came up with nothing suspicious. They existed, that much was certain. Both of them had driver’s licenses and voting records. They just hadn’t done anything wrong. Not even a parking ticket. They didn’t have an online presence either, or at least not one that was easily found. The assistant, Courtney Hart, was also clean. She’d gotten a speeding ticket eight years earlier, but nothing since. Vivian shook her head. If all of River Point’s citizens led such law-abiding lives, she’d be out of a job.
That left a search for Antonio Camero.
Nothing on social media as far as she could tell, and no arrests, parking tickets, or moving traffic violations. So far, Antonio had led a curiously uneventful life. In fact, she found no evidence that he’d had a life at all. She did a search for a fitness studio in Janesville. The manager at Let’s Get Fitness had said it was one word, like Energy or Zone. The only business that qualified was called Zest, which had to be the worst name for a workout place she’d ever heard. According to the hours on their website, they were open until nine on Sunday nights. She had time to call.
She dialed, and when a man picked up, she identified herself and asked to speak to whoever was in charge.
“I’m the owner. Steve Schaefer.”
She leaned back in her desk chair. “I’m looking for information on someone who worked for you. An Antonio Camero?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name.”
Did she have the wrong place? Maybe it wasn’t in Janesville after all. “You didn’t have a personal trainer named Antonio Camero? This would have been about three years ago. Dark hair, brown eyes, slight accent.”
“Are you talking about Anthony Bruno?”
Plot twist. “Who’s Anthony Bruno?”
“Anthony Bruno, the jackass who cleaned out all the cash from my office safe. I caught it on video and everything, so it should have been an open-and-shut case, but after I confronted him, he took off and the cops never found him. You should know about this. I filed a report. Honestly, what do you people do all day?”
Rude. “Do you have a photo on file that you can text me?” she asked.
On the other end of the phone came a loud, dramatic sigh. “I already gave a photo to the police back when this happened.”
“Oh good, you do have a photo! If you can just send it to me at this number”—she rattled off her number—“it would be very helpful in finding him.” Vivian knew she could call the Janesville police and have them send the picture over, but since she had the guy on the phone right this minute, it would save her the trouble.
“I guess it would help you catch him. What’s the number again?” He sounded aggrieved.
She slowly repeated the number and then added, “As soon as possible. Please. It would really help.”
“Hang on. I’ll do it right now.”
A few minutes later, Vivian had the photo displayed on her phone. “Hello, Casanova,” she said to the picture on the screen. Even in a still image Anthony Bruno gave off player vibes. His gaze was actually smoldering. She imagined him practicing that look in the mirror. Huh. Women actually fell for that type? He couldn’t be more obvious. She shook her head.
She gave Tyler the update on Antonio’s possible alternate identity and showed him the picture.
Tyler said, “He looks like a model or an actor. He’s got that jaw.”
“To me he looks like a criminal, but that might just be all the years on the job talking.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We find out if Anthony Bruno and Antonio Camero are the same person.”