Survival Clause: A Savannah Martin Novel (Savannah Martin Mysteries Book 20), стр. 30
“Ms. Stevens might know.” She hadn’t been around until the next year, but she might have been told the details.
“I’ll check,” Grimaldi said. “Are you ready to go home?”
Hard to say whether that was an attempt to get rid of me or not. “Not necessarily,” I said. “Is there somewhere else you’d like to go? To Sunnyside to see Laura Lee’s parents, maybe?”
“I’d rather do some checking before I do that,” Grimaldi answered. “When I talk to them, I already want to know Frankie’s arrest record, and whether he could be involved or not. He’s their son-in-law, and depending on how they feel about him, then and now, it would be good to know the score.”
“Maybe they can tell you what was going on with Laura Lee during the period when Frankie was locked up. Something they weren’t comfortable telling the police back then. Maybe she had another boyfriend or had hooked up with an old one, or something.”
“Maybe,” Grimaldi said pessimistically, “but I’m not sure what good it’ll do if she did. This guy doesn’t stalk his victims. Not as far as we know.”
“She was the first, though. The origin kill. You said the methodology might be different.”
Grimaldi didn’t answer, and I added, “That’s why we’re here, looking into this, right? Because she was the first victim and the killer might have known her better than the others?”
“Yes,” Grimaldi admitted. “But I still want to check Frankie’s periods of incarceration before I talk to Laura Lee’s parents.”
No problem. “Back to the police station, then?”
“Might as well,” Grimaldi said. “Do you want me to take you home first? Or do you want to come with me?”
I checked the dashboard clock. “It’s almost quitting time, isn’t it? Rafe doesn’t have SWAT practice or anything like that tonight, does he?”
“That was yesterday,” Grimaldi said.
“Maybe I’ll just come with you, then, and wait around for an hour—maybe you’d let me look at the surveillance footage from this morning while I wait?—and then I can drive home with him.”
“And stake your claim in front of Agent Yung again?” She sounded amused.
“I’m not worried,” I said sturdily. And then, when the look she gave me was amused as well, I added, “She didn’t sound like she was interested in him that way. And I don’t think he’d cheat. But I’ll admit that women like her make me feel dumpy and like I don’t deserve what I have.”
“I’ve seen the two of you together,” Grimaldi said. “And I’ve seen you separately. You have nothing to worry about.”
Good to know. “I just feel like a slug, you know? Big and blobby and slow. And she’s so tiny and trim and perfect, and she can probably kick ass while mine’s twice the size it used to be, because I still can’t fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes…”
“You’re fine,” Grimaldi said, her lips twitching. “You’re not a slug. You’re not big or blobby. You have a husband who loves you, and a beautiful baby. But you’re right: she probably can kick your ass. So can I, if it comes to that.”
“I don’t mind you,” I said. “You’re not after my husband.”
“She’s not, either. If she were interested on a personal level, that kiss would have told her how unlikely it is that he’d be interested in her. And I disabused her of the notion that he’s a criminal. She didn’t like it much, but she believed me.”
“Then I guess she’s going to have to settle for arresting the killer,” I said, “when we find him.”
Grimaldi nodded. “Although I hope to slap those handcuffs on myself. I don’t mind if she’s there, though. Just as long as she’s not getting in my way.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I told her, as we swung into the parking lot behind the police station, into the prominent slot reserved for the chief of police, and she cut the engine.
Inside the front doors, she sat Carrie and me down behind the front desk with the young man on duty.
“Officer Rehman.” She gave him a nod.
“Ma’am.” He blushed, and reminded me rather forcibly of my buddy Officer Truman in Nashville, who did the same thing whenever someone female spoke to him.
The resemblance ended there, though. They were both young, but George Truman was a peach-fuzzed blond, while Rehman was as black-haired and dark-eyed as Truman was fair.
“This is Mrs. Collier and her little girl.” Grimaldi nodded to me and Carrie, awake and cooing in her car seat. “I want you to show her the camera footage from outside the building this morning.”
“Ma’am?” Rehman reddened further.
“Someone filmed my husband and me outside the front door earlier,” I said, before Grimaldi could yell at Rehman and make him feel worse. “The video appeared on social media. We’re trying to figure out who it was.”
“Oh.” Rehman turned to one of the computers and began to manipulate buttons. Grimaldi withdrew, but not without an annoyed shake of her head. I waved her off before I looked at the eight little screens that each showed a small part of the police station.
“This one.” From the angle, it looked like it was placed in the corner above the front door. “This one and that one.” One on each side of the building, turned toward the middle, filming the street and the cars going by. “Are any of the others overlooking the front?”
Rehman shook his head. “Just those three. What was the angle of the video?”
“I’ll show it to you,” I said, and dug my phone out of the bag I’d dropped on the floor. It was already cued up on the video, from watching it before, and I started it playing and handed it to Rehman. And watched him blush a bright, painful red as he watched.
He handed it back without meeting my eyes. “Looks like whoever filmed it was parked down on the other end. If he—”
“She,” I said.
Rehman nodded. “—if she didn’t cross in front of the police