CHAPTER 35: THE FRAME JOB
Martin Webb's mugshot showed a man who'd given up on being believed. Forty-three years old, graying hair, eyes that had seen the inside of a cell and never quite recovered. He'd served four years for burglary in the late '90s, gotten out in 2002, and had been working as a janitor at Santa Barbara Elementary ever since.
Now he was the prime suspect in a string of break-ins that targeted the exact schools he'd helped build.
"The guy practically drew a map," Lassiter said at the briefing. "Every school hit was on his maintenance route. Every point of entry was a door or window he had documented access to. If this is a frame job, it's the laziest one I've ever seen."
"Or the most obvious." I studied the evidence photos. "Which would make it effective. Who looks past the easy answer?"
"People who have too much time on their hands." Lassiter's tone made clear which category he thought I fell into. "Webb's alibi is weak. He claims he was home alone during all three break-ins. No witnesses, no proof."
"What was taken?"
"Nothing." Juliet flipped through her notes. "That's what's strange. All three schools were broken into, security systems disabled, but nothing was stolen. No vandalism, no damage beyond the entry points."
"Someone's testing security protocols." The words came out before I'd fully processed the thought. "These aren't thefts. They're reconnaissance."
[TIER 1 REALITY MARBLES: UNLOCKED][LIFETIME NP SPENT: 52. THRESHOLD: 50. EXCEEDED.][NEW PROTOCOLS AVAILABLE:][— THREE'S COMPANY (20 NP): SPLIT ATTENTION MULTIPLIER][— MAGNUM P.I. (15 NP): ENHANCED INVESTIGATION MODE][— SCOOBY-DOO UNMASKING (25 NP): DRAMATIC REVEAL BONUS][HANGOVER EFFECT: 30 MINUTES POST-TIER 1 USE]
The notification hit mid-sentence, and I covered the sudden grin by pretending to sneeze. Three new tools. Three new ways to burn NP and boost performance. The system was expanding, offering capabilities I'd only dreamed about during the long grind from Level 1.
"Gesundheit." Gus handed me a tissue. "You were saying something about reconnaissance?"
"Right. Yes." I focused. "The break-ins aren't random. Someone is mapping security responses — how long until alarms trigger backup systems, which doors are weakest, where the blind spots are. Webb's the fall guy while the real perpetrators plan something bigger."
"That's speculation," Lassiter said.
"That's pattern recognition." I touched my temple. "The spirits are showing me a web. Multiple targets. A countdown to something worth stealing."
[LEVEL UP: 5 → 6][XP: 89/1800 TOWARD LEVEL 7][NEW FEATURE: CASE FILE OBJECTIVES EXPANDED TO 5][SYSTEM NOTE: LEVEL 6. NOW WE'RE COOKING WITH GAS.]
Level 6. The second notification in as many minutes — the XP from Eddie's case had pushed me over the threshold. I kept my expression neutral, but something warm spread through my chest.
Progress. Real, measurable progress.
"Spencer." Lassiter's voice was sharper now. "If you have actual evidence that Webb's innocent, present it. Otherwise, he's our suspect."
"Then let me interview him. And check the surveillance footage from businesses near his apartment during the break-in times. If Webb was home, someone might have seen his car."
Lassiter hesitated. This was new territory — me offering a practical investigative approach rather than psychic theater.
"Fine." He handed me the interview room assignment. "But if this is a waste of time, I'm adding it to your file."
"You have a file on me?"
"It's getting thicker every week."
Martin Webb looked up when I entered the interview room, and the hope that flickered across his face made something in my chest tighten.
"You're the psychic." His voice was rough, unused to speaking to people who might believe him. "I heard about you. You solved that kidnapping last month."
"I'm a consultant." I sat across from him. "Tell me about the night of September 4th."
"I was home. Alone. Watching television." He rubbed his face. "I know how that sounds. But it's the truth. I haven't broken into anything since I got out. I've been clean for four years."
[SHAWN VISION ACTIVATING — MANUAL TRIGGER]
Three highlights. Webb's hands — calloused from years of manual labor, no fresh scrapes or injuries consistent with forced entry. His shoes — work boots, worn at the heels, no dirt or debris that would match the break-in sites. And his posture — hunched, defensive, but not deceptive. The body language of someone who'd been accused of things before and learned that truth didn't always matter.
"The security systems at those schools," I said. "You know how they work?"
"I installed half of them. Part of my job when I started." He met my eyes. "That's why they think I did it. I know where the weak points are. But so does anyone who worked for SecureTech in the past five years."
"SecureTech?"
"The company that handles security for most of the schools in the district. They've got the contracts." Webb leaned forward. "I told the other detective — check their employee records. Anyone who worked installations would know the same things I know."
"SecureTech. Security vendor. Employee records."
The case was shifting under my feet, the shape of it changing from simple frame job to something more complex.
"Thank you, Mr. Webb." I stood. "I believe you."
"You do?" The hope in his voice was painful.
"I do." I meant it. "Someone is using your history to cover their tracks. But that means they made a mistake — they chose someone who could point us in the right direction."
Gus met me outside the interview room with surveillance footage on his laptop.
"Webb's car was in his apartment parking lot during all three break-in windows. I pulled footage from the convenience store across the street." He turned the screen toward me. "It's grainy, but that's definitely his Honda. Never moved."
"So he's clean."
"He's clean." Gus closed the laptop. "Which means someone went to a lot of trouble to make him look guilty. Why?"
"Misdirection. Keep the cops focused on the obvious suspect while the real perpetrators prepare for something bigger." I started walking toward Vick's office. "We need SecureTech's employee records. Anyone who quit or was fired in the past two years."
"I can pull that through the pharmaceutical network. SecureTech has a contract with Central Coast Medical — shared HR systems." Gus was already texting contacts. "Give me two hours."
"You're getting good at this."
"I've always been good at this." He almost smiled. "You're just finally noticing."
[BCM UPDATE: 63/100. +1 FROM COMPETENCE RECOGNITION.]
Lassiter's expression when I presented the new evidence was a complicated mixture of irritation and grudging respect.
"The surveillance confirms Webb's alibi. He's not our guy."
"Then who is?"
"Someone with insider knowledge of SecureTech's installations. The break-ins weren't random — they were systematic. Testing response times, identifying weak points, mapping security protocols." I spread Gus's preliminary research across the table. "Whoever did this is planning something bigger. Something at a high-value target."
"Like what?"
"I don't know yet." I touched my temple. "But the spirits are showing me a pattern. These schools weren't the target — they were practice."
Lassiter studied the evidence for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"I'll pull SecureTech's employee records through official channels. If there's a disgruntled former worker with security expertise and a grudge, we'll find them."
No Vick intermediary. No demand for psychic proof. Just a detective accepting another detective's analysis.
[RELATIONSHIP UPDATE: LASSITER][STATUS: "ANNOYED TOLERANCE" → "DIRECT ANALYTICAL COLLABORATION"][GAUGE: 28/100 — NOTABLE IMPROVEMENT]
The three Tier 1 Protocol icons glowed softly in my peripheral HUD. I hadn't used them yet — hadn't needed to. But they were there, waiting, loaded weapons for a fight that was still coming.
"Spencer." Lassiter's voice stopped me at the door. "The parolee. Webb."
"What about him?"
"He's being released. No charges." Pause. "That was... useful work."
Coming from Lassiter, it was practically a standing ovation.
Gus called at 6 PM with SecureTech's employee records.
"Seven former technicians in the past two years. Two retired, one moved out of state, one is currently in prison for an unrelated charge." He paused. "That leaves three who are still local with the expertise to pull off these break-ins."
"Send me the list."
"Already sent. But there's something else." Gus's voice had shifted — the particular tone he used when he'd found something that changed everything. "SecureTech just won a major contract. Guess what it's for."
"Tell me."
"Security for the Santa Barbara Regional Spelling Bee Championship. Same event type as the Spellingg Bee case from July."
The connection hit like a punch. The Spellingg Bee — my second real case. Richard Chen and his family's academic obsession. A competition that had turned deadly over the pressure of perfection.
And now SecureTech was providing security for a similar event. An event that someone was clearly preparing to hit.
"When's the spelling bee?"
"September 16th. Four days from now."
Four days. Four days to identify the real perpetrators, figure out their target, and stop whatever they were planning.
The HUD pulsed with new case objectives:
[CASE ACTIVE: THE FRAME JOB — EXTENDED][OBJECTIVES UPDATED:][— IDENTIFY REAL PERPETRATORS][— DETERMINE TARGET][— PREVENT SECURITY BREACH][— PROTECT SPELLING BEE EVENT][DEADLINE: SEPTEMBER 16, 2006]
The Tier 1 icons glowed brighter. Soon, I might actually need them.
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