Megan
On the drive back to the campus, I swung by the post office to check my PO box. It was probably too soon for the dealer to have sent any drugs to me, but it couldn’t hurt to check. As expected, the box was empty.
As I started the engine in the post office parking lot, I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. If Brigit and I hurried, we could make our afternoon class. While I wasn’t worried about Morgan Lewis’s grade, I was concerned that skipping classes and leaving early too many times could blow my cover. Best to play the part as closely as I could.
We made it to class in the nick of time. Looking around the room, I spotted an unusual number of empty seats. Looked like many of my classmates had used the downpour as a convenient excuse to skip class. A bad decision, given that the professor decided to surprise us with a pop quiz. Those who’d skipped today would earn a big, fat zero that they’d have to work hard to overcome.
After class, I went back to my room. Emily snoozed and snored in her bed, dead to the world. I kicked back on my bed and booted up my laptop, situating myself so that Emily would not be able to see my screen if she happened to wake up.
I slid the flash drive Detective Jackson had given me into the USB port and pulled up the dash cam video from the day before. An image of the parking lot at Tio’s Taco Stand popped up, the readout in the bottom corner indicating the date and time—yesterday at 11:37 A.M. I played the dash cam video on ten-times speed until it showed me entering the restaurant. Once I’d left, I slowed it down to quadruple speed. When I realized that was still too fast to get a good bead on the people coming and going from the restaurant, I slowed it even more, watching it at double speed.
The traffic in the lot picked up, cars driving in and out, people traipsing into and exiting from the restaurant. On high speed, the effect was somewhat comical. A man with two bags of takeout in his hands tripped over an uneven spot on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant and stumbled, frantically swinging the bags and somehow managing to regain his balance only to drop his keys when he reached his car. A strong and unexpected breeze lifted the skirt of a woman on her way in the door, treating me to a view of her lower buttocks and polka-dotted panties. A group of birds hopped along the roof, swooping down on occasion to pick at an errant tortilla chip someone had dropped on the small outdoor patio at the end of the building.
An hour in, I hadn’t spotted anyone who looked familiar and Emily began to rouse, eventually sitting up.
I glanced over at her. The bags under her eyes were less dark and puffy, and her skin had a healthy pink glow. “Wow,” I said, giving her a friendly smile to let her know I was only teasing. “You look almost human again.”
She stretched out her arms and smiled back. “I feel almost human, too.” Her nose crinkled as she sniffed the air. “What’s that moldy stench?”
“Britney,” I said. “Sorry. That’s what wet dog smells like.”
She hauled herself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. “Wanna grab dinner downstairs?”
“Sure.” I tugged the flash drive from the port, closed my laptop, and slid both back into my backpack.
As we entered the dining hall, my eyes scanned the space. There was no sign of Paige, Alexa, Logan, Hunter, Ruby, or Ruby’s as-yet-unidentified brown-haired male friend. I did spot April, however, and introduced her and Emily. The three of us sat together to eat our meals.
It was barbecue night. I’d filled a plate with sides for myself and sliced brisket for Brigit.
April scooped up a forkful of baked beans. “How are your classes going?”
I tore a piece of brisket in two and fed one half to my partner. “Pretty good. We had a pop quiz in my campaigns and elections class today. I think I did pretty well. There was only one question I wasn’t sure about.”
“I’m having trouble in calculus,” April said. “I just don’t get it. It’s like my brain has hit a wall and can’t go any farther mathwise.”
Emily perked up. “I used to tutor in calculus when I was in high school, and I could use some spending money now. Would you be interested?”
“For sure!” April said. “How much do you charge?”
“Twelve dollars an hour.”
“That’s a bargain,” April said. “When can we start?”
“I’m free after dinner,” Emily said.
“Works for me,” April said.
Sounded like the arrangement would be a win-win.
When I’d finished my potato salad, cole slaw, and beans, and Brigit had licked my plate clean, I excused myself from the table. “I’m going to the library. See y’all later.”
Fortunately, the afternoon storm had blown over and, while the walkways were still wet, at least no rain was falling from the sky. Brigit and I headed to the library. First, I made a surreptitious sweep by the dealer’s hidden cell phone. Yep, the charger is still plugged in.
I ventured down to the first floor, finding a perfect table where I could put my back to the wall and hide my computer screen from passersby, while keeping an eye on the elevator and stairwell to monitor the comings and goings.
I was another hour into the dash cam video when Alexa entered the library alone. She didn’t spot me hidden in the corner, walking directly to the elevator and pushing the up arrow button. When the car arrived, she stepped inside and pushed a button.
Before the doors closed, a male student climbed on with her. “Could you push two, please?” he asked.
His question told me that Alexa had pushed the button for the third floor. Was she merely going up there to study? Or was she checking on the cell phone? Could she be the dealer?
To avoid detection, it would be better if the dealer accessed any voice-mail messages remotely. Text messages could also be forwarded elsewhere if the dealer had downloaded autoforwarding software. Given that the dealer had placed the phone in a public place to avoid being connected to it, he or she seemed to be exercising caution. Still, maybe the dealer thought that putting the phone in the library was enough caution. Maybe the dealer occasionally checked on the phone here. After all, I had been able to access the phone with little risk given that it was behind a bookcase at the back of a quiet floor.
Hmm …
I decided to go in search of Alexa, see what my suitemate was up to. Maybe I’d catch her in the act of checking the phone and this case could be put to rest tonight.
I left my empty backpack on the table to signal anyone who might be interested in the table that I planned to return. Hugging my laptop to my chest, I tiptoed up the stairs, leading Brigit, exiting onto the third floor. While I didn’t catch Alexa in the act of checking the hidden cell phone, I did catch her in the act of sticking her chewed bubble gum under the study carrel where she sat. Not a criminal offense, but perhaps it should be. Ick.
Fortunately, Alexa didn’t spot me here, either. I led Brigit back down to the first floor and resumed my review of the dash cam footage. The time stamp ticked by at the bottom of the screen, but nobody looked familiar. 4:28. Nobody. 5:06. Nobody. 6:01. Nobody. 6:35. Wait …
A young man exited the front door of Tio’s. He wore a baseball cap and sunglasses, typical of someone who was trying to hide their identity. With his head and much of his face covered, I couldn’t tell much about him. His T-shirt and jeans weren’t anything unusual. He had his car keys in one hand, the thumb of the other hooked around his belt loop. The skin on his arms was light brown, indicating he could be Latino, as were many of Tio’s customers.
I paused the frame and leaned in, squinting at the image. The quality was poor. To be expected, given that dash cams were intended primarily to capture larger images of traffic stops and high-speed chases where quality wasn’t so much an issue. Besides, higher quality meant higher cost. It was a trade-off.
Hmm … Something about the guy rang a vague bell, but I couldn’t place him. I started the video up again and watched as he sauntered out of camera range.
I went back to a few minutes before, searching for the footage of when he entered the restaurant. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a good look at him going inside. His image was obscured by a group of people who’d hung around just outside the door, having a postdinner chat. All I could see was a hat bobbing up and down behind them and the door of Tio’s swinging open as he entered.
I made a note of the exact time stamp of when he appeared. It could be something. Then again, it might be nothing. Maybe he only looked a bit like someone else I’d seen. Besides, I knew from my criminal justice studies how unreliable eyewitness testimony could be. A person who’d been shown photos of potential suspects might later identify one of them in a lineup simply because their mind subconsciously connected the person in front of them with a photo they’d been shown. Lighting could make a huge difference. Skin, hair, and eye color looked very different in a well-lit setting than it did in a dim one. Plus, there were only so many different ways a person could look. Unless they had a distinguishing mole or scar or birthmark, they’d likely fall into one of two or three dozen types. The news was full of men who’d spent years in prison, some on death row, due to faulty eyewitness identifications, only to be later proven innocent by DNA evidence. Still, it was a potential lead, however weak it might be.
As the evening ticked away, I watched the rest of the dash cam video. A group of young men, some of whom wore TCU attire, had dinner at the restaurant, though none of them seemed particularly familiar.
When I was done reviewing the dash cam footage, I pulled up the security video from the mall. Brigit stood and pawed at my leg, letting me know she needed to take a potty break. I took her outside, where she relieved herself at the base of the closest tree, standing and kicking her legs out behind her afterward as if wiping her paws.
We returned to the library, where I began to review the mall tape. The camera was positioned at the end of a hallway and aimed at the three adjacent doors that led to the men’s room, the ladies’ room, and what was labeled as a family restroom. The mall seemed quite busy. One look at the calendar on my phone and I realized why. The drop date was a Saturday.
As the morning wore on, traffic continued to pick up, mothers with children in strollers taking their children into the more accommodating family restroom. Shortly before noon, a young man and woman came up the hall. They glanced around before the guy grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her, head tossed back in laughter, into the restroom, closing the door behind them. It was clear what they were going into the room for. They were answering a different call of nature, relieving themselves in a different way.
Three minutes later, the door opened slightly and the girl peeked her head out. When the coast was clear, they both stepped out into the hallway and scurried away from the scene of their crime of passion. Three minutes. Clearly the guy was a rookie.
At the height of the lunch rush in the nearby food court, there was a flurry of activity at the restrooms. A crowd of people came down the hall, one at the back wearing a knit cap. A hipster, no doubt. Who else would wear a hot winter hat in the height of a Texas summer? He also wore a pair of dark shades. Like the potential suspect I’d seen in the dash cam video, he had light brown skin. Hmm …
While the males and females split left and right, the hipster tried the family restroom. Discovering it in use and locked, he ducked into the men’s room next door. Shortly after a father exited the family restroom with his two young sons, the hipster came out of the men’s room and tried the door to the family restroom again. Finding it unlocked now, he slipped inside.
While I’d noticed some people went into the restroom alone, probably for the additional privacy it offered, why hadn’t the guy waited in the hallway to use the room? Had he not wanted to remain in view of the security camera any longer than necessary?
A minute later, the guy came back out of the room and strode quickly down the hall. Was he the same guy I’d seen at Tio’s Taco Stand? He could be. But he could also be someone else entirely. Just as the dashboard camera provided grainy, low-resolution images, so did the security camera. Yet something told me the two young men could be one and the same.
I made a note of the date and time stamp for this footage also, and texted the information to Detective Jackson so she could take a look for herself.
Yawning, I continued through the footage. Over the top of my computer screen, I saw Alexa step off the elevator and head out of the library. Had she accessed the cell phone while she’d been up on the third floor? I wish I knew. Seeing Seth at the pool and enjoying his kiss had only reinforced what I was missing out on by working this undercover case. Good food. A bedroom and bathroom of my own. Nookie. Seth and I would have to make up for lost time once this investigation was complete. Still, I wondered whether I should add Alexa to my list of suspects.
I turned my attention back to my computer. I’d just begun looking at the following day’s recording an hour later when a voice came over the loudspeaker. “Attention, students. The library will be closing in fifteen minutes. If you have materials you would like to check out, please bring them to the circulation desk now. Thank you.”
That was my cue. I turned off my computer and stowed it in my backpack. A light shake of Brigit’s shoulder was all it took to rouse her from the floor. She and I headed up the steps to the third floor. I saw only one person there, a student who appeared to be around my real age, in his mid-twenties, probably a grad student. He was packing up his things so there was no need for concern.
I slunk down the back row with Brigit and crouched down, pulling out the book about Ottoman art. Quickly, I retrieved a disposable glove and clear plastic bag from my backpack. After putting on the glove, I reached behind and under the shelf, felt around until I found the phone, and pulled it out, disconnecting it from the charger. One glance at the screen told me it had at least one fingerprint on it. Yes! I only hoped it wasn’t mine from when I’d felt around for it last time.
I slipped the phone into the plastic bag and dropped it into my backpack along with the glove. As we stood, the library staff issued a five-minute warning over the loudspeaker. No need to nag, I thought. We’re on our way out. Together Brigit and I hurried to my car to take the evidence in for fingerprinting.
Would the techs find a match?