A guy I didn’t recognize was making the pizzas and ladling out the sauce onto the dough.
“Who’s that?”
“That’s Greg. He only works part-time since he’s still in high school. He asked for an extra shift last night. It wasn’t his normally scheduled hours.”
I watched as Avery answered the phone, and smiled as she chatted and wrote down an order. I glanced at the time stamp. “That was probably ours.”
She took it to the back and handed it to Greg.
Greg wiped the sweat from his brow just as Conrad jogged into the room, nervously looking over his shoulder. He glanced at the order and frowned. They spoke for a few minutes, and Conrad took the ladle and ushered Greg away from the ovens. Greg pulled out his phone and dialed as he walked.
“He’s not supposed to have that on him while he’s cooking,” Bradford said.
I wasn’t worried about the kid with the cell phone. I kept my eyes on Conrad even as Greg left the kitchen.
Conrad glanced over his shoulder again and took a small container out of his pocket, sprinkling the contents over all the pizzas but one, and then he used the ladle to put the sauce over the top.
“What the hell…”
He continued making the pizzas and then moved on to the Hawaiian pizza with no tampering.
We watched as Greg came back in and took over, and Conrad walked into the locker room.
“You got a camera in there?”
“Yeah,” Bradford said and clicked a few buttons on the keyboard to pull up another screen.
Conrad opened a locker and shoved something inside.
I fast-forwarded to where Avery and Conrad argued. He handed her the keys and helped her carry the pizza boxes out the door.
“She isn’t supposed to deliver. Conrad is,” Bradford said, stomping to the door.
“Don’t say anything yet. We don’t want to tip anyone off,” I said, rising from my seat. “You need to preserve that video. The police will want it. Can you show me to Conrad’s locker?”
“Absolutely. I swear I had no idea.”
I believed him. Conrad had done it all. The only question left was whether Avery would be charged as an accessory. Stella might never talk to me again if that were the case.
Bradford saved the video and took me into the locker room. He gestured to which one was Conrad’s.
I yanked on the lock, to no avail. “I need to see inside.”
“Don’t you need a warrant for that?” Avery asked from the doorway behind us.
“After the video I just watched, I can have a warrant here within the hour.”
“I own these damn lockers, and he has my permission to look inside. And you and I are going to have a little talk about why you made a delivery last night,” George said, grabbing bolt cutters from a supply closet. He clipped the lock, removing it.
Avery had her arms crossed over her chest. “Conrad asked me to help him deliver. He got me this job. I couldn’t tell him no.”
I pulled out a jacket and checked the pockets before putting it on the bench. There was a picture of Stella attached to the inside of the locker.
“Why is that there?” Avery asked.
I didn’t answer and continued searching through his things until I found what I was looking for—a container with a white substance that looked like cyanide or rat poison.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Detective Morrison’s number. He answered on the first ring. “No sign of the kid.”
