and in a press conference today, Detective Dwight Allen said that no activity on Pickett’s credit cards
or bank accounts has been noted since the evening before the raid.’
Blah-blah-blah...Allen also asserted that aside from a camera at the front gate, there were no surveillance cameras on the property.
A copy of a police report obtained by the Star says that Pickett was last seen Thursday evening by his sons, Davis and Noah.’
Blah-blah-blah... ‘estate just north of Thirty-Eighth Street, lots of lawsuits, supports the zoo,’ blah-blah-blah...
‘call the police if you know anything,’ blah-blah-blah. Wait, how are there no security cameras?
What kind of billionaire doesn’t have security cameras?” “The kind who doesn’t want his shady business recorded,” I said.
As we drove, I kept turning the story over in my head. I knew some edge of it was jagged, but I couldn’t figure out which one,
until I snagged a memory of eerie green coyotes with white eyes.
“Wait, there was a camera. Not a security one, but Davis and his brother had a motion-capture camera in the woods by the river.
It had, like, night vision, and it would snap a picture whenever something walked past—deer or coyotes or whatever.”
“Holmesy,” she said. “We have a lead.” “And because of the camera at the front gate, he couldn’t have just driven off,” I said.
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