The footage we caught of Callie walking by was a dead end. We hadn’t seen anyone following her, and we watched it until she was out of sight. We continued on and checked two churches. One didn’t have any cameras, and the other had a camera that recorded only their parking lot activity. Months earlier, church staff had called law enforcement to report drug deals going down in their parking lot, and since then, they’d had cameras installed.
I winced as we walked on. My heels rubbed painfully against the back of my shoes, and I was sure blisters were forming. Every step I took hurt, and Frank noticed.
“Shouldn’t have worn your new shoes today.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Should always keep a pair of comfy ones in your trunk.”
“I know that too.” After we passed a man who tipped his head at us, I pointed at the hair salon. “That’s the last commercial building before Callie would have turned onto South Prairie. The killer had to be relatively close to her, or he wouldn’t have seen her turn.”
“Unless he didn’t notice her until she was already on Prairie,” Frank said.
“Right, but then that should mean he’s local to this neighborhood, and if we catch his face on footage, somebody might recognize him.”
Frank swatted the air. “Nah, that doesn’t add up.”
“Why?”
“Because he tossed her purse in the gas station’s dumpster close to the terminal. Why bother throwing it away at that location unless he was going to board the train? There aren’t any houses around there, so it wasn’t like he was walking home.”
“We’ll know soon enough.” I pulled my phone from my inner jacket pocket and tapped Henry’s name on my contact list. He picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, Jesse.”
“Have you reviewed the footage from this morning yet?”
“Yep, and the terminal was nearly dead. The only people who boarded were a man and woman together, a family—likely transferring to the Blue Line later and going to O’Hare—and two guys dressed in business attire. That’s it. Four a.m. doesn’t seem like a high-demand time to be riding the rails.”
I let out a frustrated groan. Our leads amounted to zero. It was as if Callie had fallen out of the sky, and the only evidence we had was her death.
“Okay, thanks. Hear anything from the crime lab about the purse? Were Callie’s fingerprints on it?”
“Mike hasn’t called me. I assumed he’d let you know.”
“I’ll give him a buzz. Thanks again.” I clicked off when we entered the salon and approached the counter. A woman, around forty with purple-spiked hair, greeted us.
“Here for a haircut, gentlemen?”
I flashed my badge. “Not today, but thanks, anyway. What we need to know is if your camera by the door reaches the street.”
“It only catches the front door and sidewalk—for security, you know—but it doesn’t go as far as the street.”
“Okay, we’ll need to see the footage from overnight. Can you set that up for us?”
“Sure thing.”
The woman called over an employee to watch the counter then led us to the salon’s office at the rear of the building. She set up yesterday’s recording and looked over her shoulder at me. “What time?”
“Actually, I guess it would be today, not yesterday. We’d like to start it at three a.m.”
She tapped the keys and changed the date. “Here you go. It’s ready whenever you are.” She stood and pointed at the chair. “Go ahead. I need to get back out front.”
I gave her a nod and took her seat, and Frank pulled a chair to the desk and sat next to me. I calculated the timeline before I began the recording.
“Callie walked past the fast-food restaurant at three seventeen, so we should see her pass here around three twenty-five.”
We leaned in and stared at the screen. With fewer commercial buildings in that area, the ambient lighting was poor, and streetlights were less frequent.
Frank pointed. “There! That’s got to be her. It’s the same person as before.”
“Come on.” I was on pins and needles. We needed to see someone following her before she turned onto Prairie, where darkness would definitely take over. I nearly leapt from the chair when I saw a figure walking about fifty feet behind her. “That’s got to be him! Damn it, though. I can’t tell anything about his appearance. He’s just a dark figure going in the same direction she is.”
“I hope this recording catches her turn. If he turns, too, we’ve got him dead to rights.”
I frowned at Frank. “Yeah, that’s awesome. We’ll have a dark, shadowy figure dead to rights. How the hell do we make an ID on that?”
He shrugged. “Sorry, bud. I’m just getting excited for something to pop.”
We continued to watch. As Callie made a right and the man followed her into the darkness, my muscles tensed. We knew what lay ahead, and if only we could turn back time.
Frank rose and walked to the door. “I’ll get her back in here so she can send that video to your email address.”
“Thanks.” I took a minute to call Mike. “Hey, buddy, anything on the purse?”
“Yep, Callie’s prints are all over it, so we know definitively it belonged to her.”
“I don’t hear excitement in your voice. Is bad news coming next?”
“Yeah. Sorry, Jesse. The other sets of prints are from unknowns. They aren’t in the system.”
I heaved a sigh. “Guess one set belongs to the kid and the other to our perp.”
“Most likely.”
“Okay, thanks.” I clicked off as Frank and Miss Purple Hair walked in together.
I gave her my email address, and we watched as she sent the video on its way through cyberspace. Seconds later, I got a notification that an email had arrived in my in-box. After giving it a quick check to make sure the attachment was included—and it was—Frank and I thanked her and left.
Outside, I gave Frank the bad news as we headed to the cruiser. “I spoke to Mike.”
“And?”
“The purse was Callie’s, and the only identified prints belonged to her. The two other sets weren’t in the system.”
“The killer and the kid?”
“Yeah, I’d assume so. We have to find that guy and damn soon. We don’t know if he’s on a spree or if Callie’s murder was a one-time thing.”
“But she didn’t have enemies that anyone knew of.”
“True, but some people are good at hiding their anger until they need to unleash it on someone. If it wasn’t personal and he’s an opportunist, then he’ll slip up sooner or later.”
“Sooner suits me just fine.”