We had a secondary computer set up, and thanks to Tom and Kyle, who installed tracking software on it, we would watch everywhere that cell phone went—in real time—if it was turned on. Meanwhile, we got back to the two videos we had left to watch.
My phone rang just as we settled in. It was Danny calling, and pretty soon, I would have to insist he stop interrupting our workday. I planned to tell him that he could inquire about the case twice a week unless I called with updates. He was interfering far too much and disrupting us.
I answered and that time remembered not to groan. “Did you forget to mention something earlier, Danny?”
“No. Just wondering what you found out about that phone number.”
I chuckled. “Well, since that was less than an hour ago, nothing. Tracking down perps and solving cases takes a while. We do need to focus on the job at hand, though, and I’d appreciate it if you’d call for updates no more than twice a week. If anything breaks, you already know that you’ll be the first person I’ll call.”
“I know, I know. It’s just that Kim was the only real family I had left. The cousins and aunts and uncles don’t live nearby, and we aren’t that close anyway.”
“I understand, but we can’t be constantly interrupted. I’ll stay in touch. I promise.”
I hung up and got back to the final few videos.
It was past lunchtime when I finally shut down the surveillance footage. I leaned back in my chair and sighed. We had nothing and had never caught a glimpse of anyone fully dressed in black. Without a face on camera or prints left at the scene, we were dead in the water.
“Guess it’s time to do a deep dive into the Grimeses’ financials. With both of them deceased, we can bypass the warrant and eliminate the red tape,” Rue said.
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s a relief. We need to check with the other pawnshops in town to see if any of the stolen inventory ended up in their shops. Sounds like a lot of work that doesn’t directly relate to finding the killer, but we have to push through it. Royce needs to assign Lawrence and Bentley to this case, too, as long as there aren’t any other murders on the books this week.”
“Now you just jinxed us,” Devon said.
I waved him off. “I don’t believe in superstition, only hard work. We’ll solve these murders by the end of the week. I can feel it. Meanwhile, let’s get Bentley and Lawrence to start going through the couple’s bank statements and pawnshop balance sheets. We’ll talk to relatives and close friends again to see if any statements have changed from what they’ve previously told us.” I glanced at the clock. “Let’s grab something from the vending machines, bring it back to our desks, and get busy.”
A half hour later and with full bellies, we knuckled down and made phone calls to the people we’d previously interviewed. With the responses they gave our earlier questions right in front of us, we would ask the same questions again to see whether their answers had changed. It was all we had to work with.
Royce walked in at two o’clock and plopped down on the chair against the wall. “Bentley found discrepancies in the pawnshop’s books.”
“Really? Like what?” I asked.
“Looks like they were skimming, but that wouldn’t give anyone else a reason to kill them.”
I scratched my cheek. “Or maybe it would. They could have been hard up for money, borrowed some from a loan shark to keep afloat, and skimmed from the till to pay him back. Once you’re indebted to a loan shark, it never ends.”
“You might be onto something, Cannon. We’ll keep digging. Meanwhile, anything going on with that phone?”
I looked at the computer screen, which showed a map of Savannah. Nothing was moving. “Nah, it must be turned off. Maybe the mystery caller only turns it on when he makes a call and only from a busy public location.”
“Yeah, maybe. How are the second interviews going?”
Rue took his turn. “They match for the most part with what we were told before. Maybe we’re overthinking things. The couple could have been nothing more than collateral damage during a robbery from some meth head who wanted goods and quick cash.”
I disagreed. “Most meth heads I’ve encountered don’t carry guns or burst into pawnshops while they’re dressed from head to toe in black. It was a preplanned hit. Drug addicts are too jacked up to think and don’t have the brain cells to pull off something like that. They don’t have the wherewithal to pick up shell casings either or to disappear without a trace.” I frowned. “Wait a minute. Something is percolating in my mind.”
“Care to share?” Royce asked.
“Were the slugs in both murders similar or maybe even the same?”
“Forensics would have to take a close look and make a comparison. I’m sure Tapper turned them over to the evidence room. So?”
“So what if the killer is the same person for both murders? That would say the pawnshop killings had nothing to do with an unpaid debt or being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Rue huffed. “Yeah, it would mean we have a killer on our hands who is murdering because he wants to. Kim and the pawnshop owners had nothing whatsoever in common.”
My brain nearly exploded. “We need Tech to look at that pawnshop footage.”
“Tech? Why?” Royce asked.
“Maybe they can tell by objects in the store just how tall that killer was.”
Royce cocked his head at me. “And why does that matter?”
“Because the mystery man with the black sedan was damn tall, and there’s no reason on earth he would be that interested in a funeral of a stranger unless he was her killer.”
“Shit,” Rue said. “You may be right. Let’s queue that footage and get Tom up here to take a look at it.”
“On it.” I made the call, and within minutes, Tom was sitting at my desk and looking at the filmed robbery.
He explained that the standard store counter stood about forty inches high and the man with the gun pointed at Mr. Grimes looked another three feet or so taller than that. “I can drive to the pawnshop and take some measurements, plug them into our software, and get an actual height of the robber if you want.”
Royce nodded. “Yeah, go ahead. We’ve got a keypad lock on the door right now. Code is four, zero, six, nine.”
“Okay.” Tom glanced at the wall clock above Rue’s desk. “I can be back within the hour if I go now.”
Royce waved him on. “You know, the robber would have to be significantly taller than most men for us to even think he’s the same guy as the man at the cemetery. How far away were you from the sunglasses-wearing stranger?”
“Far enough, but he towered above the gravestone he stood against. I could even go back and measure that gravestone if you want me to.”
Royce held up his hand. “Let’s wait to see what Tom comes up with. Maybe there really isn’t a white car at all and the killer is the guy with the black sedan. If that’s the case, we’d only be looking for one black car with a tag that starts with one, one, seven. If we find that vehicle and the driver on record is over six foot three, then there’s a good chance he could be the suspect. Meanwhile, I’ll call Tapper and ask about those slugs.”