UNSEEN

by Felicia Mires

  By the time he reached Pemberly, he felt he'd walked the gauntlet. It was not a comfortable feeling to think every cop that knew him was just waiting for him to screw up. He had to teach himself to ignore the insinuations of others and focus his energies on the task at hand. If he caught the murderer, even with a civilian dogging his heels, his esteem would rise.

  Pemberly was just rolling a white markerboard closer to their desks. It nearly covered that side of the wall. He nodded in salute. "Before you ask, I haven't got the neighborhood security footage yet. What'd you get?"

  "Seymour looks good for it. There's about an hour block of time when no one can swear they saw him, giving him the opportunity to make it to the victim's house and back."

  "Anyone see him leave?"

  "Unfortunately, no, but I haven't contacted the names of visitors who attended the party. Perhaps one of the firm's clients noticed something."

  Pemberly started writing on the board. "So, basically, if our warrant doesn't reveal something, we don't have enough to charge him. What about Miss Knox?"

  "I don't know. I can't seem to get a read on her. She acts genuine, but that doesn't mean anything. I want to investigate her background, see how she and the victim were connected." Caleb pointed at the board. "For now, let's just call her the anonymous female visitor. What was your take during the questioning of Seymour?"

  "Miss Knox wrote a lot…until you showed Seymour the pictures. Then she froze. She didn't take her eyes off him."

  "Like she was trying to discern if he was guilty?"

  "Or she wanted to watch his reaction to the murder. If she knew both of them, maybe Miss Knox killed the victim to get back at Seymour."

  Caleb dropped into a chair. "I'd really like to talk to Seymour again, but I don't want to tip him off to what we're looking at."

  "Yeah. I guess our best option is to pull background on all three, the victim, Knox, and Seymour. There's no way this is a coincidence."

  "I think we have enough for another warrant. I want the cell phone records of all three."

  "How do you think the judge is going to react when you tell him your suspect is helping you with the investigation?"

  "Tell me I'm smarter than the average detective?"

  Pemberly laughed and flicked a finger at the board. "Right. You complete this time line. I'll put in a request for another warrant."

  Once Caleb finished adding all the information they had on the victim and Jeffrey Seymour, he sat back at his desk and studied the board. Several questions came to mind, and he jotted each one in his notebook.

  How were the victim, Knox, and Pemberly connected?

  How did he get a record of Knox's movements from the moment she visited the victim up until she appeared in his office, without letting her know he was suspicious?

  Did Penny have any disagreements with co-workers or clients?

  Get Penny's client list from Tonics and Tones and her schedule for the last month.

  Get Penny's financials.

  That should do for a start. If nothing else, the answers to those questions would close some doors and perhaps open new ones. Now, if he didn't want to aggravate a certain forensics expert, he should get ready for their date.

  Thirty minutes later, with a fresh dress shirt, renewed cologne, and a bouquet of fall flowers, Caleb climbed the stairs to Forensics. When he walked inside, he got a nice view of Laurel's long legs as she slipped off her flats and slid on some heels. Laurel had some shapely legs, longer than that of Miss Knox, who also had attractive legs. Caleb shook his head. He was definitely a "legs man."

  Laurel's head came up as she offered a smile of greeting. "Right on time. I like that about you…most of the time."

  "I can't help it when a murder interferes. You've cancelled on me more than once…last night, for instance."

  "Couldn't be helped." She stood and leaned in to receive his peck on the cheek. "Ahh, flowers, too. You really are a nice guy."

  "Ugh. So is my grandfather, but you aren't dating him."

  Laurel chuckled as she slipped her arm through his. "I guess I can do better. You're thoughtful, smart, funny…"

  "Attractive?"

  "You'd love for me to say yes, but I think you already know the answer."

  They reached Caleb's car, and he opened the door for Laurel then waited for her to get in before shutting it. He skipped around the car, feeling better already. The brisk night air felt invigorating, and it was a relief to go out with someone who understood the hazards of this job.

  When he climbed in the car, he flashed a smile at Laurel. "Anywhere in particular you want to go?"

  "You mean you haven't planned our date?"

  "I have reservations at Tutoro's, but if you don't like Italian…"

  "Italian is good." She glanced around his car then looked back at him. "There are distinct remnants of your new colleague."

  "What's that?"

  "Miss Knox. She's a very…fragrant individual."

  Caleb grinned. "That she is."

  "And vibrantly visual."

  Caleb spluttered with laughter. "You can say that again, but it shouldn't be a problem tomorrow. She said she'd tone things down."

  "Mmm."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Oh, nothing. How are your suspects looking?"

  "Wide open at this point, until we get neighborhood security footage to tie anyone to the scene or a break in alibis."

  Laurel nodded. "What about forensics? I tested several fingerprints…none in the system. Do you think prints will point to someone?"

  "Not unless we find a murder weapon. My suspects were known associates of the deceased, and it's not unusual for their prints to be on the scene."

  "That always makes things difficult. Well, if I find anything, I'll let you know."

  "I'm counting on it."

  They pulled into Tutoro's and spent the next hour playfully arguing over who looked better for the Super Bowl, the Cowboys or Saints.

  Finally, Caleb shook his head. "Woman, you live in Texas. How can you cheer the Saints?"

  "My dad, die-hard Saints' fan."

  "What has he got to say about the season?"

  Laurel looked down for an instant then smiled faintly. "He died several years ago, but he'd say, 'Who Dat Nation, black and gold all the way.'"

  "It's too early to tell, but I'm betting you're wrong."

  "We'll see, Caleb. We'll see."

  When Caleb dropped Laurel at her car at the station, he considered giving her a kiss. Especially when she looked up at him in wide-eyed admiration or what he assumed to be admiration. The precinct parking lot wasn't exactly private nor romantic. Perhaps he should wait on a first kiss. He leaned against the side of her car. "Thanks for coming out tonight. It helped to get my mind off…things."

  "The body?"

  He shrugged but didn't answer.

  "I know what you mean, Caleb. Sometimes, when I study the autopsy, I get so frustrated with the injustice of their deaths. But then I remind myself to concentrate on finding that one piece of evidence that points at the perpetrator. We'll get there. I had a lovely evening. Thank you." Laurel pulled her coat tight, leaned in to give his shoulders a squeeze, then climbed into her car.

  Caleb lifted a hand and watched until she drove off. The second woman today to drive away from him. He glanced at his watch, not quite ten. By this time, there should be some type of feedback on all the warrants and requests for info he and Pemberly had sent out. Before going home, he'd take one last look.

  Chapter 4

  I know you're trying to trick me, but it won't work. You're all trying to trick me. Things are about to blow up. You might not survive the fallout. I can hardly wait.

  When Destiny Knox walked into the station the next morning, Caleb felt his jaw drop. Skinny black jeans and a blousy hot pink top were not his idea of less color. From the heads turning her way as she walked past the desks, he could bet he wasn't the only man who thought so.

  Pem
berly elbowed him in the side and offered a low whistle. "Would you look at that? She cleans up good."

  "Do we really have nothing else to consider other than Miss Knox and her unfortunate choices in attire?"

  "Unfortunate? Your mouth was sagging along with the rest of us, buddy."

  "She's just so…so…"

  "Hot!"

  "Whatever." Caleb shoved away from his desk, endeavoring to paste a welcoming smile on his features. "Good morning, Miss Knox."

  "Morning, detectives." She gazed up at them with cheerful expectancy. "Did I miss anything last night?"

  "You did, indeed," said Pemberly, pointing at the murder board, which now included photos of the victim, their prime suspect Seymour, and a shadowy image taken from a security camera that showed a figure in dark clothes and ball cap, walking away from the suspect's car.

  "Is that…" She dropped her coat on a chair then peered closer. "Is that Seymour walking away from his car?"

  "We can't get a positive I.D., but we can get height, based on the position of the car."

  "And?"

  "It could be him."

  "Or someone going to great lengths to match his height," Caleb added. "We still haven't gotten plates on the car."

  "Is it time-stamped? Does the camera show him returning to the car?"

  "Yes and yes."

  She smiled and folded her hands over her chest. "Excellent."

  "I'm glad you think so. Would you like the results from questioning the firm's client list?" Caleb asked. "It's all in the murder book."

  "I would. What's a murder book?"

  "It's pretty similar to the board but in more detail. Every aspect of the case is kept in the book so that anyone connected to the investigation can find all relevant materials, including observations of the officers at the scene, photographs, and witness or suspect statements." He pushed a large notebook toward her.

  She perched on the edge of the desk to read silently, occasionally turning a page, until her head jerked up. "This says you can execute the warrants. Have you already done it? Without me?"

  "There's a forensics team taking apart the victim's workplace. The phone records of everyone in question will be here within the hour, and…"

  "What?"

  "You and I are leaving to search Seymour's office."

  She squealed. "This is too exciting for words. What if we find the murder weapon? That blow to the head had to have made a mess. What if we find his bloody clothes?"

  "Then Jeffrey Seymour is incredibly stupid."

  "Oh, right. He doesn't look stupid." She sighed. "Then why are we going at all?"

  "To seize the security records of who left and entered the building. And…criminals make mistakes. We might find trace evidence somewhere."

  "Good. Let's go."

  Pemberly shifted in his seat. "I thought you wanted to browse through the witness statements in the murder book. You could stay here with me."

  "Did anyone give Seymour a firm alibi?"

  "Not exactly. There was the same gap in time, a little over an hour."

  She slid off the desk. "Then I'm going to watch his office get torn to bits."

  Caleb studied her set expression as she breezed past, a woman intent on a mission with more than a trace of anger in her glaring eyes. It could mean one of two things. Either she wanted to pin the murder on Seymour so she could get away with it, or she wanted to punish the guy who'd killed her friend. Either way, Miss Knox was a regular fireball of anticipation. She stopped at the door and glanced back at him, platform sandals tapping on the floor.

  Her brow raised. "Well? Are we going or not?"

  "We are."

  Caleb followed her to his car but waited until they were driving away before speaking. "Look, I know it's hard…to see someone murdered. And you want to catch the person responsible, but you have to focus on everything before you, not make the suspicions fit your theory."

  "I know that, but someone…someone squished her head. She didn't deserve that. No one does. You have to catch this guy."

  "Any particular reason you think it's him, aside from the unsubstantiated evidence?"

  She took a breath, staring at her hands a few seconds then glanced over at him. "Just a feeling."

  Which meant she still wasn't admitting she knew the victim or Seymour. Caleb thought about the stack of personal records for the victim, Seymour, and Miss Knox that now resided on his desk. He would have to confront her soon about their past relationships, but he'd rather know if he could break Seymour's alibi first.

  As they pulled into the parking garage of the multi-storied, glass and brick structure, Caleb offered Miss Knox her visitor's I.D. "Don't take it off. Stay right beside me. Don't say a word."

  She nodded and followed him inside.

  Caleb strode straight to the security station and held out his badge to the guard on duty, somebody different, named Theodore. "Let me up to floor five."

  Without waiting for an answer, Caleb walked through the metal detector, ignoring the alarms that went off, and paused for Miss Knox to follow. Theodore held up a hand, reset the alarm, waved Miss Knox through, then handed Caleb a pass that allowed him access to any floor.

  Once inside the elevator, Miss Knox leaned against the wall with an amused air as she studied Caleb.

  "What?" he asked.

  "You."

  "Which means?"

  "You do that well." Her smile widened. "You're very…imposing, like you know who you are."

  "I'm a cop."

  She continued to stare then shrugged when Caleb didn't add anything more. "Right. Nuff said."

  The door slid open to the entry lobby of R. G. Wentworth & Associates, and Caleb wasted no time walking toward the receptionist. "Please call Mr. Wentworth."

  Before he could turn around, the man in question approached them. "I assume you've got a reason for invading the lounge and conference rooms, Detective."

  Wentworth displayed neither irritation nor pleasure at the sight of the court order Caleb proffered. His manicured fingers smoothed the document before he read the contents. He glanced up, frowning. "Why is that necessary?"

  "Sir, with all your employees downstairs at a function, anything could have occurred up here. We're merely being thorough."

  "You're intent on disrupting my business as much as you can. This says nothing about the security logs. I've spoken with the building management, and they won't hand those over."

  Caleb pulled out another warrant. "I'm afraid you'll have to, sir."

  "Won't do you any good."

  Once again, Caleb got the distinct impression that Mr. Wentworth knew something Caleb didn't. He followed the man down the hall.

  When Wentworth caught sight of Caleb, he paused. "Yes, Detective?"

  "I'm trying to catch a murderer, someone who caved in the head of a young woman. Surely, you want that, and yet I feel as if you aren't telling me everything you know. Why?"

  "Execute your warrant, Detective. I don't have to speak with you…unless you're going to arrest me, too?" He walked away without waiting for Caleb to comment.

  Miss Knox sidled up to Caleb and put her hands on her hips. "He's a real jerk."

  "Nobody wants their business disrupted, especially when they have difficulty believing one of their employees could be guilty of murder."

  "Really? You're making excuses for him?"

  "You're right." Caleb grinned at her as he pulled on a pair of gloves. "He's a jerk. Now stand over there in the corner and don't touch anything."

  "What! I thought I got to help."

  "Not gonna happen. Can't contaminate the scene. You get to watch, but only if you promise to stay out of the way."

  "Fine, but I'm definitely adding your girlfriend to the story."

  "Whatever." Caleb reached in his pocket and turned on his voice recorder then entered Seymour's office.

  Minutes later, a forensics unit joined him and the room became a hive of activity as they pulled each book off the shelf,
dusted for prints, did a sweep for traces of blood, and upended the drawers.

  Caleb reached inside the small coat closet and pulled out a change of clothes and shoes. He handed the pile to a technician. "Bag this."

  Occasionally, he peeked through the glass windows into the hallway to verify the continued presence of Miss Knox. She was still there, but now she sat cozily chatting at a desk with the woman who'd observed Seymour's disagreement with the deceased. They laughed, and Miss Knox bent to write something in her notebook. What was she up to?

  Caleb went back to his inspection of Seymour's laptop. Thus far, he'd been unable to find a password written down anywhere, nor had he been able to guess it. He packed it up to take back to the station. Laurel might be able to crack it.

  "Sir."

  Caleb jerked up at the sound of the voice to face the technician who'd been assigned to the conference rooms. "What is it?"

  "We didn't find anything."

  "Thanks. What about the security logs?"

  Gloved hands held out a packet. "All here."

  From his side, another technician approached. "That's it. There's not one trace of blood or anything else that might tie the suspect to the scene, but we'll know more after we do a detailed analysis of fibers and hair."

  Caleb nodded at the two men. "What about the lounge?"

  "Same thing. Nothing without a lab analysis, but definitely no blood."

  "Pack it up."

  Caleb walked out of Seymour's office to find Miss Knox alone at a desk. She closed her notebook and rose. "Anything?"

  "Not yet, but we've got his laptop to go through. I didn't really expect to find the smoking gun."

  "Or a great big bloody rock."

  "You think he hit her with a rock? That's highly unlikely." Caleb followed his team to the elevator.

  "Just making conversation, Detective."

  Like her fairly lengthy conversation with that female witness? What had she learned? Her pen had barely stopped moving. As soon as he got her in the car, he'd discover what she knew.

  "Here. You might find this illuminating." He handed her the packet.

  "What is it?"

  "The security records of who went where and when for all the guests in the building on the night of the murder."