![]() | ![]() |
FISH SCRUBBED THE GREASY frying pan. Lexi seemed content to watch the video feeds, and if it kept her busy, he was more than happy to wash a few dishes. From what Manny had said, they’d be here for a couple more days, and sharing an apartment with Lexi was a pleasant duty.
“Marv.” Lexi’s shout came from the com center.
He dropped the pan into the sink and ran.
“What do you have?”
Lexi had an image of a pickup truck frozen on the screen, enlarged to the fine line between Can make out details and Too blurry to be worth anything.
She pointed to a spot on the other side of the truck, below the vehicle’s frame. He leaned closer, squinted. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”
“Does that look like feet? As if they’re sneaking in on the far side of the truck where the camera won’t pick them up?”
He checked again. “I don’t know, Lexi. It looks like a shadow to me.”
“Why would there be a shadow there?”
He shook his head. “No clue. Lighting does wonky things.”
Fish moved her hand aside and worked the controls, advancing the feed a frame at a time. While he couldn’t discount Lexi’s interpretation, he couldn’t say he agreed, either. “Have you looked at the feed for the entire two hours?”
“Not yet. I have twenty minutes to go.”
“If this shadow is someone sneaking in, then why didn’t he go with the truck driver to the elevator?”
“Maybe the truck driver didn’t go into the building,” she said.
“Tell you what. Let’s finish going through the feed, and then we can send it to Blackthorne where they can work their enhancement magic.”
“There are other cameras in the parking garage, right?” Lexi rested her hand on the mouse. On top of his.
“Only one way in and out, up and down,” Fish said, trying to ignore the way the feel of her warm, soft hand upped his heart rate. “There’s one camera on each level but nothing’s set up to follow a car from the gate to wherever they’re parking.”
“You can look at each camera feed and see what level someone parked on, right?”
“Yes, but before we chase this truck, let’s get through the rest.” He clicked the mouse to start things moving again. Lexi didn’t remove her hand.
Partners.
It didn’t take long, because no other vehicles appeared until Fozzie’s. Fish started to set up the next feed, the overall view of the level, but she stayed his hand.
“We should do the same thing for Fozzie’s van. See if the shadow shows up whenever anyone pulls up to the gate. Like you said, the lighting can do wonky things.” She ducked her head. “I don’t want to look like an overreacting fool to Blackthorne.”
Fish slowed the action, but they found no comparable shadows. Maybe Lexi had a hit. He switched to the camera mounted where it picked up a view of the entire level, then began the playback from the time the pickup had appeared at the gate. A number of the slots were empty, designated for guests. The pickup hadn’t parked on this level.
“Iredale wouldn’t have hidden beside the truck very long,” Lexi said. “Just long enough to get past the gate unseen.”
They scoured the images for a hint of a person walking, but Iredale—assuming the shadow was actually a person, and the person was Iredale—didn’t appear. “He might have known he’d be out of camera range once he got five feet past the gate and avoided being picked up on the main level camera.”
Lexi didn’t seem to doubt her hypothesis was correct. “Let’s look at the rest of the levels,” she said. “Find out where the pickup parked. I logged the plate numbers of the vehicles coming through. The guards keep track of which cars belong to tenants, don’t they?”
“I imagine so.”
“Should we call these in?” she said.
“Go for it.”
Lexi reached for the phone, perused the speed dial listings. “Security office or the desk?”
“They probably both have lists, but try the office.”
Lexi made the call and one by one, read off the plates to the guard. She nodded and placed check marks as he confirmed each was registered with the building.
She questioned why anyone needed a pickup truck in the city. The guard explained it belonged to a Russ Jordan who’d lived in the building for four years. Worked in the hardware department at a home improvement center, owned another home in rural Sebastopol where he raised apples. Pickup made sense.
“He doesn’t live near Nelson Riggs, does he?” Fish asked, near being relative since they lived in the same building.
“Different floor, other end.”
Fish noted the time stamps on the video and called Emi to let her know he was sending it. He explained Lexi’s thoughts. “It’s a long shot, but if you can clean up the image enough to differentiate between a person and a shadow, we might have found the hole to plug.”
“Noted, Mr. Frisch, although given the man is in custody, it’s not going to make the top of my to-do list.”
Lexi appeared crestfallen. Her efforts to help had been minimized. He ended the call and put a hand on her back. “I think you did good, partner.”
“Maybe so, but I have a feeling this assignment was busy work.”
“Unless it turns out you were right,” he said.
“You think so? That I’m right, I mean.”
“We didn’t see shadows on Fozzie’s van. I’ll bet if you go back and look at the rest, they won’t have that shadow, either.”
Lexi grabbed the mouse. “Then let’s keep looking. We have the other levels to check for the pickup, and we should watch the elevator feed to see when Jordan got there. Maybe figure out why Iredale didn’t tag along.”
“Since, as Emi said, it’s not high priority, we can watch the feed later.”
“Wait,” Lexi said. “Call her back.”
***
LEXI SUPPRESSED HER disappointment that Emiko wasn’t going to put a rush on enhancing the video. The woman had a valid point—Iredale had been dealt with. Clearly, Emiko didn’t think someone else would try the same ploy so soon. There was another loose end to check out.
“Why?” Marv asked. “Emi doesn’t take kindly to interruptions.”
“Then call Manny,” she said. “Let him interrupt her. What if the driver of the pickup isn’t Jordan? The camera sees who’s driving, but if the guard isn’t watching, someone else might have come in.”
“Good point. The guys in the security office ought to be able to tell. Let’s verify it was Jordan before we bother Manny.”
Another call to the guard confirmed the driver in the pickup was indeed Russ Jordan.
She touched Marv’s arm before he hung up. “Ask him if he or any of the other guards noticed Russ Jordan and Nelson Riggs hanging out together.”
Marv did, and Lexi waited impatiently—seems impatient was her default state lately—until Marv thanked the guard and put the receiver in the cradle.
“Nothing obvious. They recall them in the fitness center at the same time once in a while, but nothing regular. The occasional conversations while waiting for an elevator, sometimes arriving in the lobby together, but nothing to suggest they’re more than nodding acquaintances. For what it’s worth, Jordan’s assigned parking slot is number seventeen on level three,” Marv said.
“You don’t think Iredale was in the truck, too, crouched out of camera range,” Lexi said. “If they didn’t know each other, maybe he was threatening Jordan.”
“Doesn’t track for me,” Marv said. “Iredale didn’t go into the building right away.”
Lexi hiked a shoulder. “It was a thought.”
“Brainstorming is good. I’ll check in with Manny, ask him if he thinks a connection between Jordan and Riggs is worth pursuing.”
While Marv dealt with Manny, Lexi went through the feed for level three of the garage, starting shortly after the pickup entered. It appeared twenty-six seconds later, pulled into a slot—she couldn’t read the numbers, but assumed it was seventeen—and the driver climbed out. Alone. She sped up the playback. No sign of Iredale.
“Manny’s going to follow up with Emi,” Marv said.
“Did he think I was reaching?”
Marv squeezed her shoulder. “No, he said it was a reasonable question.”
Lexi felt a twinge of pride she’d been helpful. And a twinge of lust at Marv’s touch.
“I’ll look at the other garage levels, see if there’s anyone wandering around,” she said.
Marv scooted his chair closer. “We can both watch.”
That twinge of lust expanded like a hot air balloon.
She shook off the feeling. Not the time, place, nor was she ready to consider Marv as relationship material.
One-night stand material? Friends with benefits?
She shook that off as well.
“Should we back up the feed another hour or two?” she asked. “In case our assumption Iredale wouldn’t have spent half a day or more hanging around the garage is wrong? It’s not like we have anything else to do.”
“I have an idea,” Marv said.
His tone was suggestive. And why did he have to massage her shoulder?
“What?” She avoided his eyes, not willing to let him read the heat in hers.
“Make a shopping list. You’ve got to be a lot better than I am at knowing what we should have on hand for the next couple of days.”
Okay, she’d totally misread that one. Why did he have to bring up that they’d be sharing this apartment for several more days? Blame it on a long dry spell, blame it on stress. No matter what she tried to blame it on, there was no denying her surging hormones.
Please, let Adam catch the Falcon. Soon. Very soon.
She and Dalton hadn’t discussed how long this operation might take. Or if they would want more money if it dragged on. When this started, all she wanted was to feel safe—to be safe. Get her life back, although she was no longer sure what that life was.
Lexi considered the spontaneous question she’d asked Marv about working for Blackthorne. Would she want an operative job like Marv’s? Or would she rather work behind the scenes? Being a desk jockey didn’t seem so bad.
She snapped her focus to the here and now. “List.” The notepad lay on the desk where she’d have to reach across Marv to get it.
Or you could ask for it.
Why was she looking for excuses for body contact?
What the hell. She swiveled, grabbed Marv’s face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. Maybe one kiss hadn’t been enough to get rid of the memories of the aftermath of the Pineda case. Maybe one more would do it.
When Marv’s cell phone rang, she didn’t know whether to be disappointed or grateful. She pulled away, and let him take the call.