by Blake Pierce
“I think that could be our gal. Don’t we have video from inside the station as she enters?” she asked.
“Of course not,” Manny said caustically. “Why would they want to make it easy on us? The interior camera showing the main entrance is down. It has been since last week. There are lots of other cameras inside but the place is so crowded and until now, we didn’t have anyone to focus on.”
“We still don’t,” said Edgerton. “The cameras are positioned so high up and there are so many people milling about that finding her is going to be finding a needle in, well, you get it.”
“Okay. So forget that,” Keri suggested. “Maybe if you try to work backward.”
“What do you mean?” both men asked in unison.
“Jinx. You owe me a Coke,” Edgerton said playfully.
“I’m gonna owe you a fist sandwich if you’re not careful, baby boy,” Suarez growled.
“Just trying to lighten the mood,” Edgerton muttered under his breath.
“If you kids are done,” Keri said, “I’ll tell you what I mean. If we can figure out which bus she was planning to take, maybe we can ID her, or at least follow the footage back until we get a clear image. Plus, we’ll know her destination—two for one.”
“I knew we kept you around for a reason,” Suarez joked as Edgerton looked up the bus itineraries from yesterday morning.
“Within two hours of her arrival at the bus station, there were six departures: San Francisco, Las Vegas, Denver, Phoenix, San Diego, and Los Angeles. But almost all of them continue on to additional destinations. The Vegas bus eventually goes all the way New York. The Phoenix one ends up in Orlando. The San Fran bus continues on to Portland and Seattle. San Diego stops at the border with Tijuana. I mean, how do you pin that down?”
Keri was quiet. Both men knew not to interrupt when she was in that zone.
San Diego makes a little sense if she continued on to Tijuana. If she wanted to get lost, Mexico is a good place to start. But Kendra doesn’t feel like a Tijuana kind of girl. No reason to come back to LA. So where?
And then it came to her so suddenly she was embarrassed it took so long.
“Check the manifest for Phoenix,” she said.
Edgerton pulled it up. They all scanned it at the same time. The name Kendra Burlingame was nowhere in sight. Keri felt her spirits starting to fade when a name caught her eye.
“Click on that one, Kevin,” she said, pointing to one name that felt familiar. The ticket details indicated that it was purchased with cash the day of departure. No help there.
“Why are we checking a passenger named A. Maroney?” Suarez asked.
“Because Kendra’s full maiden name is Kendra Ann Maroney and she was raised in Phoenix, Arizona.”
“Nice!” Edgerton exclaimed, unable to contain his youthful enthusiasm.
“So let’s go to the camera showing passengers getting on the Phoenix bus and see if we have any luck,” she suggested.
Edgerton pulled up the video and after a few minutes the same woman in the slacks, gloves, and blouse with the sunglasses and headscarf stepped aboard.
“Her head is down so we still can’t do facial recognition,” Edgerton noted.
“Yeah, it’s almost like she’s trying to hide her face or something,” Suarez said sarcastically. “I think at this point we can safely say she didn’t want folks to know she was taking this trip.”
“Back it up, Kevin,” Keri said, ignoring their squabbling. It was almost ten at night and the long day was clearly starting to fray their nerves. “Let’s see when she enters the frame and then find out what camera might have last caught an image of her.”
“Oh, I get it,” he said, matching up her location at the start of the bus video with where she was in relation to the next nearest video camera. Using the process, they were able to track her location from the bus, back to a small shop in the station, where she looked around a bit before buying a snack.
Before that, they tracked her to the women’s restroom. Before that she sat for a while in one of the station’s general seating areas. They back timed her movements from there to the ticket window. And prior to that, she was walking down a long corridor in the main hall of the station. That’s where the footage ended, which made sense, since the next logical image would have come from the broken camera facing the station entrance.
“Okay, so we have her timeline once she entered the station. How does that help us?” Edgerton asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” Keri answered. “Why don’t we take a step back and just watch it. Can you reverse it so we can see her movements as they actually happened?”
“Of course.”
Edgerton set the video in motion and they watched it mostly in real time, except for the twenty minutes when she just read a magazine in general seating.
“Can you zoom in to see what she’s reading?” Keri asked.
“I can do it after we’re done with the video. It might take a few hours to render but we’ve got a decent shot. What will that do?”
“I don’t know. I’m grasping at straws here.”
They returned their attention to the screen as the woman got up and went to the ladies’ room. She came out after a few minutes and went to the shop, where she looked around briefly before buying what looked like a granola bar and leaving the frame.
“Go back again to when she’s looking around,” Keri requested.
Edgerton replayed the video.
“Freeze it there,” Keri shouted. “Are there any other camera angles in the store?”
“Let me check.” Edgerton punched a few keys and another view came up from the interior of the store. When it got to the same point as the other video, he froze it. The woman had picked up a small circular tchotchke.
“What is that?” Suarez asked.
“I think it’s a snow globe,” Edgerton said, “and I think I can make out the lettering. It says… ‘Palm Springs.’ Why would there be a Palm Springs snow globe? It doesn’t snow there.”
“It’s a dumb souvenir,” Suarez said. “Who cares why they made it snow there? I’m wondering why she picked that particular one. It could be significant. What do you think, Keri?”
“Maybe, but that’s not why I’m interested in it. Look, she’s not wearing her gloves. I realized she wasn’t wearing them when she left the bathroom. She must have taken them off in there and forgot to put them back on when she left. But she’s wearing them again when she gets on the bus.”
“What’s the significance of that?” Edgerton asked. “So we know she practices good hygiene and washed her hands.”
Keri looked down at the young detective. He was a technical genius and she hoped that his skills would help her break Pachanga’s code. But sometimes he was a little dense. She tried not to sound condescending when she responded.
“The significance is that, unless someone else bought that snow globe in the last two days, we have that woman’s prints.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kendra felt the full weight of the day as she pulled into the Marina Bay parking lot. Her eyes were heavy and the aches and pains that had been annoying throughout the day were near overwhelming now.
There wasn’t much she could do back at the station tonight. She asked Edgerton to contact Palm Springs PD to see if they could get prints off the snow globe, assuming it was still there. Suarez volunteered to get in touch with Phoenix police to try to secure video from the bus station there. The hope was to track Kendra’s movements from there to whatever her next destination was in that city.
But both of those things would take until morning at least. Keri decided to take advantage of the lull to go home, clean up, and maybe get a little sleep.
But as she trudged toward the twenty-year-old houseboat that had been her home for the last few years, she couldn’t stop her mind from racing through the details of the case. Why would Kendra just up and leave her life? Why did no one she knew—her husband, her friends Mags and Becky Sampson,
even that scumbag Rafe—think she was capable of that? And yet, the evidence so far suggested that she had.
I’m missing something. I’m looking at this wrong somehow.
But she couldn’t figure out how to change her perspective. The frustration was making her antsy.
Keri reached her boat and stepped aboard. Maybe taking a mental break would help.
Sea Cups was essentially a ramshackle floating shed. It had been named by a guy who clearly wasn’t a proud feminist and Keri had never bothered to change it or paint it over. It had the basics—a bed, a galley, a small living space, and a stairwell that led to a second level with a chaise lounge chair and a rusty metal card table. It was a pretty bare-bones operation. Showering and laundry required trips to the marina’s comfort station, a quarter-mile walk away.
Keri had grown weary of the lifestyle and while in the hospital, she had decided to do some apartment hunting once she was more fully healed. She and Ray had even traded newspapers, circling places in the classifieds that might fit the bill. The friendly nurses would shuttle between their rooms, handing them off to each other. It was a way to pass the time when they were both stuck in hospital beds.
But she was serious about making the move. Despite the cost, she planned to stay in the area, even if meant getting something tiny. But she wanted a place with two bedrooms. That was the key. It was her way of maintaining hope that she would eventually find Evie and bring her home, wherever home might be.
Keri didn’t have the energy to trek to the comfort station so she splashed some water on her face and called it a shower. She kicked off her sneakers and opened the fridge. There was almost nothing there. She improvised, scrambling up some eggs and tossing them in a tortilla. Then she sat down at the tiny galley table and scarfed them down in less than a minute.
She thought about going up on deck to decompress but there was a cool wind blowing through the marina and she wasn’t in the mood to brave it. Instead, she plopped down on the couch, opened a half-empty bottle of Glenlivet, and allowed herself a healthy pour.
Then she reached under the table and pulled out a shoebox filled with blank index cards and different colored Sharpies. She wrote down the names of everyone connected to the case and their affiliation to Kendra, then spread them out on the table and stared, waiting for inspiration to strike. None did.
She took a long sip of her drink and let her eyes wander to the corner of the room, where a half dozen unopened packing boxes rested against a wall. She had bought them her first day out of the hospital and planned to begin packing stuff up right away.
But then the realization that she ought to have an apartment locked in first hit her. And besides, every time she looked at the photos she was supposed to be packing up, her memories overwhelmed her.
She took another sip, closed her eyes, and let the scotch fill her insides with its warm burn. Images swam through her head.
She saw the blue September sky, the bright green grass of the park where she and Evie had been sitting almost exactly five years ago. She saw her eight-year-old daughter’s wide smile with its chipped upper tooth, her pig-tailed blonde hair, her lacy white socks, and hot pink tennis shoes.
She saw the back of the man running away with Evie, across the broad green expanse of the park and into the parking lot, where he tossed her roughly into a white van. She saw the man stab a teenage boy who ran to help. She saw a wisp of blond hair under the man’s cap and part of a tattoo on the right side of his neck before he disappeared into the van and tore off. She saw that the van had no license plates. She felt the sharp gravel digging into her bare feet as she ran across the parking lot, trying to catch up to the van speeding away with her beloved daughter inside.
She saw it all. Then she opened her eyes, wet with tears, finished the last of her drink, and stood up. Her night wasn’t over just yet.
*
In the car on the way to Jackson Cave’s office, Keri, hyped up on anticipation and anxiety, looked at herself in the rearview mirror and sighed.
It’s a good thing I’m not planning to charm my way in there because this look isn’t going to win anyone over.
Keri hadn’t bothered to change. For what she had in mind, staying in her hooded sweatshirt and mom jeans might be preferable.
As she changed freeways from the 405 north to the 10 east, doubt crept into her mind.
Is this really the smartest move right now? Am I putting my entire career in jeopardy?
As she so often did when faced with a dilemma of this kind, Keri decided to ignore the current awkwardness between them and called Ray.
“Hello…?” said a sleepy voice on the other end of the line. Keri glanced at the clock in her car.
Damn, it’s eleven forty-five at night. He was sleeping. The guy is recovering from a gunshot wound, after all.
“Ray? Sorry. I forgot what time it was. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“What’s up?” he asked a little less groggily.
“I wanted your opinion on something, but it can wait until tomorrow,” she lied.
“I’m up now. You may as well ask.”
That was all the opening she needed.
“So I think I may be making a really terrible professional decision right now.”
“Okay,” Ray said. “Well, now I’m completely awake—go on.”
“I’m driving downtown right now to break into Jackson Cave’s law office.”
There was a long pause.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m in the hospital,” Ray said finally.
“Why?”
“Because the doctors won’t have far to go to treat my heart attack. Are you friggin’ crazy, Keri?”
“I have been accused.”
“Turn your car around right now.”
“So I take it you think this is a terrible professional decision?”
“I think it’s not just a terrible professional decision. It’s one that could get you locked up. Why do you want to do this?”
“Edgerton and I have hit a wall with Pachanga’s computer. We need the right cipher to break the code. Otherwise, it’s useless. So I visited Cave this afternoon, to see what I could learn and try to rattle him.”
“Did you?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a little bit. I have a hunch about something.”
“About what?” Ray asked.
“I don’t want to say. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“You tell me you’re planning to bust into the workplace of an officer of the court and now you’re going to play coy to protect me? It’s a little late for that, don’t you think, Mini-Me?”
“Listen, Optimus Prime—if I’m arrested, you can always say you told me not to go and I changed my mind based on that. In fact, at the end of this conversation, I’ll do just that. And you’re all drugged up so you’ll believe me and go right back to sleep. But if I give more specifics, you might really be in a pickle if you’re called as a witness.”
“You are the craziest chick I have ever met in my life,” Ray said.
Keri couldn’t tell if he was horrified or impressed.
“Thank you?” she replied.
“You do realize that if you’re caught, you are playing into the hands of the very man who may know the truth about Evie’s disappearance. Do you really want to give this guy that kind of power?”
“I don’t have a choice, Ray. I feel like I have to do something bold. It’s been five years since she was taken. This is the best lead I’ve gotten. I can’t just sit on it. I can’t.”
“I know.”
They both fell silent. Keri kept her watery eyes on the freeway, imagining Ray lying in his hospital bed, picturing his strong hand holding the phone to his ear.
“What’s going on with the other case?” he finally asked. “The one with the missing wife.”
“Oh, that. We’re still working it. Not sure what to make of it yet. Maybe I’ll give you call in a few hours to pick your brain on that one. How does three a.
m. sound?”
“It sounds good, assuming you’re not in jail.”
“Why would I be in jail, Ray? After all, I’m following your professional advice. I’m turning around to go back home. I have decided not to pursue my crazy plan.”
“You’re very convincing. I totally believe you,” Ray said, unconvinced and disbelieving.
“Good night, Ray.”
“Good night, Keri. And good luck.”
Keri hung up and continued on her chosen route. She could see the tower in the distance but wasn’t headed there quite yet.
She had to make one brief pit stop on the way.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Keri tried not to let her nervousness show as she stood in the US Bank Tower security office, watching the night security manager review her fake ID.
For a manager, he looked awfully young. He was gangly and his uniform hung loosely on his skeletal frame. Despite his apparent inexperience, he seemed dubious about her claim for being here. But since she was already officially breaking the law, she decided to go all in.
“How long are you going to look at that thing, Mr. Delacruz? You’re starting to make me wonder if it’s not just the janitorial staff I should be investigating.”
“I’m sorry, Officer Bird,” he said, handing her back the ID. “It’s just that no one informed me there was even an investigation of the cleaning company, much less that you would be doing a sting operation.”
“First of all, that’s what a sting is, Mr. Delacruz. If we informed you ahead of time, it would kind of defeat the purpose. Second, it’s Detective Sue Bird, not officer. I worked hard for the promotion and I’d appreciate the respect I’ve earned.”
Sue Bird was actually the name of a real woman’s professional basketball player. Keri had chosen her name for her fake cop ID because Bird was tough and hard-nosed. It helped her stay in character.
“Of course,” Delacruz said, flustered and no longer on the offensive. “What is it you need again exactly?”