It was eleven thirty, and J.T. and I had been reviewing the gift shop and diner surveillance tapes for hours. Our guy, still wearing Fred West’s yellow baseball cap, came in and out of the camera’s footage several times, always with his head lowered. The hat remained on his head while he was indoors, and we were sure that was a deliberate act. He knew where the cameras were located. My phone rang, and I looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello, Agent Jade Monroe here.” I took a sip of my cold coffee and waited.
“Agent Monroe, Captain Fox here from Effingham.”
“Hello, sir. Any news? I’m putting you on speakerphone.”
“Yes, the woman with the tattoo was identified. She goes by the name Brooklyn.”
I nodded at J.T. “Hence the weird tattoo—the Brooklyn Bridge. I wonder if she was from New York. Who did you talk to?”
“Another lady of the night that goes by Cherry. She said she only knew Brooklyn’s actual first name, which was Diane. She never asked what her last name was, but apparently she was a St. Louis transplant, not New York.”
“Still, the picture of the tattoo and the name Diane could help identify her. You need to get that information on the news stations, especially the ones that air in St. Louis.”
“Right, I’ll take care of that.”
“Tell me Cherry saw our killer.”
“She did, but it was nighttime, and he never got out of the truck. She couldn’t give us much since she only saw him from the shoulders up, from six feet away, and he had on a hat.”
“That damn hat again. What about a conversation?”
“That she had. She said he told them his name was John Pratt. That could be of value unless he made the name up on the fly. Apparently, she and Brooklyn teamed up together on a regular basis. The man said he couldn’t afford both of them.”
I smirked into the phone as I wrote the name down. “He probably meant he couldn’t subdue both of them.”
“I’m sure you’re right. Anyway, he picked a number between one and ten. Brooklyn was the unfortunate winner. He said he wanted a companion for the entire night and agreed to pay four hundred dollars.”
J.T. added, “Which I’m sure he didn’t even have, unless Ray’s wallet was full.”
“Cherry left and began talking to other truckers. She returned later and said she needed to speak to Brooklyn, but the man wouldn’t let her. He told her to get lost. She never saw either of them again.”
“Did she confirm he was in a burgundy truck with Ray’s Transport written on the side?”
“She only remembered the truck being a dark color, but she did say the lettering was white and the words Ray’s Transport was written across the door.”
“Okay, thank you, Captain Fox. I’ll check out that name and see if any John Pratt is in the system. Keep us posted on Brooklyn’s actual identity. You may get lucky. If she’s ever been arrested, her prints are on file. Ask the forensics lab to run them for you. It might be the easiest way to get an ID.” I said goodbye and clicked off my phone. I sighed deeply then winced.
J.T. yawned. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s weird. I get these strange stomach pains every so often.” I massaged my side as I spoke. “Anyway, you look beat. Did Doug leave?”
“Yeah, a half hour ago. The night shift supervisor, Cal Henry, is here. If we need anything, we’re supposed to talk to him.”
“Jane’s car probably doesn’t have anything usable on it, but I think the sheriff’s department should pick it up and take it to their evidence garage for safekeeping. Same goes for her purse and coat. Cal can make us copies of the tapes too.”
“I’ll make the call to the sheriff’s department. Why don’t you look for a hotel nearby? We’ll talk to Spelling in the morning and see what the plan is.”
We waited for Champaign County sheriff’s deputies to arrive then explained the situation to them. Jane’s car was towed to their evidence garage so they could give it a thorough going through. We asked them to send the report along with Jane’s cataloged belongings to the FBI’s crime lab. I wrote down the address on the back of my card and handed it to the deputy. Jane’s name, description, and age were entered into the missing persons database, and I shut down the computer. A decent looking hotel I had found online was only two miles away. We said good night to Cal, then I tucked the thumb drive of the surveillance tapes into my pocket, and we left.
As J.T. drove to the hotel, I sent a text to Spelling to see if a John Pratt was on any wanted list or had open warrants. I wasn’t confident the name was real, but we still had to be sure. I hit the Send button then scrolled to Amber’s name. With a few taps of the keys, I sent her an update text since I hadn’t had time to call her earlier. A phone call or a brief text every night was my norm, and I knew that at that hour, she’d be sound asleep. She’d likely read the message in the morning over a cup of coffee.
J.T. and I checked into the hotel and parted ways at our rooms. A beer or a glass of wine would have been nice, but I knew I’d be up early to start another day of searching for the killer. I said good night and closed the door at my back.