Sullivan gave the window another tap. J.T. rose and left the interrogation room. Within ten seconds, J.T. opened the door to the observation room where we sat.
“Captain?”
“He doesn’t know anything,” Sullivan said. “Start with the next blond.”
“I have a good idea,” I said.
They turned toward me, and J.T. spoke. “Yeah? Then spill it.”
“It may speed up the interview process. Let’s get Jeff Simmons down here and see if he can pick out from a lineup the person who ran through his backyard.”
“Right, but we only have three blond guys to choose from at the moment.”
“It’s a start, though. We can toss a few cops wearing their street clothes in the mix.”
“Not a bad idea. Okay, let’s do it. Jade, call Simmons, and I’ll get that warrant for Alex’s house under way. J.T.”—Sullivan tipped his head toward the wall—“how about giving Andrews a hand in box three?”
“Sure, no sweat.” J.T. pointed at the mirror. “Steven can enjoy some solitude for a while.”
We parted ways at the door.
“Take a break, Monroe. We’ll reconvene in observation room two in a few minutes.” Sullivan’s phone rang as we reached the elevator. He picked up on the second ring. “Sullivan here. Yeah, Reynolds, uh-huh. Okay, make sure you get a copy of that tape and drop it off in the tech department when you get back.” He clicked off and pocketed his phone. When the bell dinged and the doors parted, we entered the elevator.
“What did Reynolds say?” I pressed the button for the fourth floor.
“The Kwik Stop video shows five vehicles lined up along the edge of their driveway at ten o’clock Tuesday night. The lead one was an extended van. Reynolds is bringing a copy of the tape back with him to see if tech can pull up the plate number.”
“So Chris’s story is true.”
“Seems that way. Okay, give Simmons that call.”
“I think I ought to call that resale shop too and ask if they have a surveillance camera at their store.”
“You’re one sharp agent, Monroe.” The elevator doors opened, and Sullivan gave me a wink and disappeared into his office.
After I pulled my notepad out of my purse, I took a vacant seat in the bull pen. I dialed Jeff Simmons first since we needed him at the station as soon as possible. I assumed I’d get a voicemail recording at the secondhand store, asking me to leave a message.
Jeff answered on the third ring. “Hello.”
I gave him the brief version of why I’d called. He said he could be at the station in thirty minutes. I thanked him and hung up. I clicked the Gallery icon on my phone and pulled up the picture I’d taken of the receipt from Second Life Resale. I wrote the phone number in my notepad and dialed. As I’d imagined, I heard a recorded message giving a brief description of their merchandise, store hours, and location. I hung up and planned to pay them a visit tomorrow as soon as they opened for business.
I filled my coffee cup and rode the elevator back to the first floor. With a quick stop at the security desk before I buzzed through to the jail area, I asked to be called as soon as Jeff Simmons arrived.
Sullivan watched from observation room number two as Fitch questioned a man on the other side of the glass. I took a seat next to Sullivan and sipped my coffee. I tipped my head toward the window.
“Anything interesting going on in there?”
He rubbed his nose, then he scratched something that apparently irritated him along the base of his jaw. “Nah, same old shit. I think we’re barking up the wrong tree. These jokers don’t know a damn thing other than what Alex tells them. No matter what, none of them seem to know about a woman being stuffed under the rubble inside the building.”
I slapped the surface of the tabletop. “Shit, I didn’t even think to ask.”
“What’s that?”
“Molly. What’s the deal with notifying her family?”
Sullivan let out a deep groan. “Jane took care of it. Earlier she matched up the DNA from Molly’s file to the body and confirmed the identity. It was Molly, but we already knew that. The mom and dad are going to the coroner’s office tomorrow to make a positive ID. Jane wanted Molly to look as presentable as possible first.”
I jotted down a reminder to pay the family a visit sometime tomorrow. “That has to be horrible for them.” My mind drifted back to the night that my own dad had died, but my vibrating phone interrupted my thoughts. I was thankful. “Agent Jade Monroe speaking. Yes, I’ll be right out.” I clicked off.
Sullivan stood. “Time to get the lineup together?”
“Yep, Jeff Simmons just arrived. I have no idea if he’ll be able to tell us anything, but it’s another check and balance.”
“Good enough. I have several officers waiting in their street clothes to pitch in. I’ll get them over to the lineup room.”
We gathered behind the glass with Jeff Simmons as six men, each with a different shade of blond hair, were ushered into the room. Each one held in front of his chest a piece of cardboard with a number on it—one through six.
Jeff stood nearest the one-way glass and peered through. He fidgeted, seeming unsure of what to say.
J.T. tried to reassure the nervous man. “Jeff, don’t force yourself to choose somebody. Just think back to what you saw that night. If nobody fits, they don’t fit. If somebody seems like a possibility, point them out.”
“Can you have them turn to the side? I never saw the man face-to-face.”
“Sure thing,” Sullivan said. He called through the intercom, “Everyone turn to the side and face the east wall.”
Jeff stared again. “I’m sorry, guys, but I’m not confident enough to pick out anyone. I’d say the hair color on number three is about what I remember, and the height and body type of number five seems right, but that’s all I can give you.”
I patted his shoulder. “Thanks for coming down, Jeff. You’ve been a big help.” I had an officer escort him out. We paused our conversation until the door closed at their backs.
“Well, other than Steven’s hair color, we have nothing. Number five is Officer Lewis.” Sullivan reached deep in his pocket for the ringing phone. “Captain Sullivan here. Yeah, Charlie, what’s up? No shit? Meet us in my office in five minutes.”
J.T.’s brows rose, and I’m sure mine did too. I grasped the doorknob, ready to head upstairs.
“Charlie has information.” Sullivan looked back at Andrews and Fitch then jerked his head toward the men still standing on the other side of the glass. “Throw those three in the holding cell for now. We’ll get back to them later.”