“It looks like he’s the spokesperson for Albaugh’s family,” said Ray as he studied a file. “The parents wanted to stay out of the spotlight after Albaugh was announced as the shooter. Bill Albaugh was at the press conferences and kept reporters away from the immediate family.”

Mason understood perfectly. In an emotional time, having someone slightly removed to handle the public was a godsend.

“It’s late. Should we call him?” Ray asked.

“I don’t want to come back to Eugene. We hit our main goal of finding out about the backpack, which means that last male witness could have left with clothes and might be the real shooter. Now we need to find out who he is. I think finding the connection between the three shooters is the way to pinpoint our suspect.”

Ray nodded. “I know Shaver is shifting focus to the young men’s backgrounds to look for that connection. I think talking to the cousin would be a good start. Maybe he could pave the way for us to talk to the parents. The parents’ interviews from June don’t reveal a lot. The investigators thought they had the suspect so they were simply looking for the why. The parents didn’t know why he killed those people. Claimed Albaugh gave no sign.”

“He was the one with the headaches, right?”

“Yes. That’s the only odd thing the parents claimed was going on with their son.”

“But he didn’t live at home, so they couldn’t really know. I wonder how much they saw him.”

“This says the parents’ phone number has been disconnected,” Ray said, flipping file pages. “I bet the publicity was too much for them. Probably got tons of hate calls.”

“What’s the cousin’s number?” Mason asked. “And let’s not say a word about the mystery shooter.”

“Of course not,” said Ray. He read it off and Mason dialed. He connected to his car’s Bluetooth so Ray could hear. A male answered and Mason identified the two of them and asked if he was Bill Albaugh.

“Yes. I heard you’re taking another look at the shooting because of the recent shootings in Portland, right?” Bill asked.

“That’s correct,” said Mason. “We’re looking to see if there’s some sort of commonality between the three young men. We’re wondering if they knew each other.”

“Makes sense,” said Bill. “But that sounds awfully hard to pinpoint.”

“I assume you’ve been following the info on the latest shooting? The shooter was AJ Weiss. Did his name ring any bells for you?”

“Yes, I’m following the news. I’ve heard the name, and I saw the guy’s picture on TV. I didn’t recognize him. I asked Joe’s parents the same question once the name was made public. They hadn’t heard of him, either.”

“The number we have for his parents is disconnected,” said Ray. “Do you have a new one?”

“I do,” said Bill. “But I’m not giving it out until I talk to them about it. You have no idea how this has destroyed my uncle and his wife. There was a backlash from around the world. People are fucking crazy. What makes someone who lives in Tokyo feel they have the right to send them hate mail? It was clear my aunt and uncle had no idea what Joe was going to do. They didn’t beat him or emotionally cripple him. This was solely Joe’s action, but the public feels the need to berate and hate on the parents.”

Mason exchanged a look with Ray. The Internet had opened up instant access to the world, but too many people used it as an instrument of hate. “I’m sorry, Mr. Albaugh. I know exactly the type of people you’re talking about.”

“I was closer to Joe than anyone—he was only five years younger than me. He lived just a mile away all through his college years. I probably knew him better than his roommate.”

“Do you have any ideas about how he might have crossed paths with the two shooters from the Portland area?” Ray asked.

“Believe me, I’ve been thinking about it ever since the mall shooting. I just can’t see it. Joe never went up there. If he had friends in Portland, I didn’t know about it. The guy worked like sixty hours a week. He rarely took time off. I have to imagine they’re copycats.”

Mason bit his tongue, wishing the copycat theory were true. “How come he worked so much?”

Bill gave a harsh laugh. “He always had to have the latest and greatest electronics and toys. There was no filter with Joe when it came to spending; if he wanted it he bought it. He could never seem to catch up, though. He always was moaning about credit card bills. He worked those hours and picked up odd jobs so he could spend. He liked to buy stuff for people, too. Generous guy. Always had happy girlfriends.”

“What do you know about Joe’s headaches?” asked Ray.

“That they were driving him crazy.”

“How’d he manage to work so much if he was in pain?” Mason asked.

“He claimed work distracted him from the pain. Joe claimed it wasn’t a debilitating pain but more of a supreme annoyance. He’d learned to live with it.”

“He didn’t visit any doctors in the Portland area, did he?” Mason asked.

“Not that I’m aware of,” answered Bill.

“The list of specialists we got from his parents was all local,” Ray pointed out.

Mason nodded. He’d remembered that. But it didn’t mean Joe couldn’t have visited some off the list. They wouldn’t know unless they asked.