Hide and Seek (Criminal Profiler #1)(46)

“There are tire prints by Roberson’s vehicle,” Nevada said. “Looks like someone parked right next to her.”

“I can take casts while you two are on the trail.” Macy worked her fingers into latex gloves and eased open the trunk, which the deputy had opened earlier. Lying in the center of the trunk was a coil of red rope. “We might end up with a random collection of impressions, but maybe in this case we are on to something.”

Ellis stared at the rope and absently rubbed her fingers over her wrist. The color drained from her face.

“Don’t look at it,” Macy said. “Focus on the mountain. You can hike that mountain and right now, I can’t. I’ll take care of this.”

“It shouldn’t upset me,” Ellis said.

“We’ve got to get moving, Ellis,” Nevada said.

Ellis turned away from the trunk.

“Good luck on the trail,” Macy said.

Nevada glanced up toward the sun. “I’ll keep you posted.”

As Nevada and Ellis walked toward the trail, Macy snapped more pictures of the car and the area around it. The car appeared to be decently maintained. No dents or scratches and no signs that anyone had tried to break inside.

Occasionally, she paused to make notes on her legal pad, knowing it could be months at least before she would present these pictures and the contextual detail to a judge or jury.

After the photos, she was back at her vehicle and opening a gray plastic tub she kept in the trunk. Two days ago, in anticipation of this trip, she had freshly stocked it with forensic supplies she could use during the investigation.

She grabbed a plaster kit designed to capture the tire track and carefully mixed up the powder with water. She moved quickly to the only really defined strip of tire treads and poured the mixture into the imprint, waiting the fifteen minutes for it to set. She collected and bagged it.

As she rose, pain shot up her leg. She paused, curling her fingers into a fist, as she waited for it to subside.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

Macy had the chops to do the work. But she worried that the pain coupled with diminished stamina, not to mention the damn sleeplessness, would be her undoing.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Tuesday, November 19, 4:15 p.m.

As Bennett crossed the park’s parking lot toward Macy, the officer’s mirrored sunglasses tossed back Macy’s reflection. Macy figured she and Bennett were about the same age, but in so many respects their lives were worlds apart. When Macy had been juggling high school graduation and college, Bennett was already a mother. Macy had lived at a dozen addresses in the last decade, while the deputy still lived in the house she grew up in.

“Do you find it odd that Ms. Roberson didn’t lock her car?” Macy asked.

“Not everyone around here locks their front doors or cars. I know it must be different in the big city.”

“Do you lock your front door on your house?” Macy asked.

“Damn straight.” The deputy slid her long hand into a latex glove. “I can’t sleep with an unlocked door, Mayberry or not.”

“Working in law enforcement does challenge your faith in your fellow man.”

Bennett pulled on the second glove. “I have a son and a mother to protect. I trust no one when it comes to them.” The deputy eyed Macy with a long stare and then lifted her shades. “Let’s have a look inside the car.”

As Macy gloved up, Sullivan arrived, and Bennett instructed him to monitor the perimeter.

Macy opened the front door of the car and studied the interior. The bucket seats were made of black faux leather with cracks on the driver’s seat. The steering wheel was worn in spots, and two of the radio buttons were missing. The glove box was crammed full of extra fast-food napkins, a tire gauge, and a worn owner’s manual still in its original plastic sleeve. Coins filled the drink holder, and on the floorboard of the car was a plastic grocery bag containing a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of white bread. The receipt inside the bag read LUCKY’S, 11/16/19, 9:07 P.M.

“Lucky’s?” Macy asked.

“It’s a convenience store close to the highway near your motel room.”

“Hopefully, they have surveillance tape.”

“I’ll call now and tell them to hold whatever they have.”

While Bennett made her call, Macy patted her hand under the passenger seat but found nothing. A search under the driver’s seat revealed Debbie’s purse, as had been reported. It was tucked out of sight.

It was never smart to leave a purse in a locked vehicle, let alone in an unsecured one. Women did it all the time thinking thieves never looked under seats or beneath coats or blankets on the seat. Most didn’t realize there was always someone watching parking places. As soon as the driver walked away, thieves gained entrance using a rock or hammer and snatched the valuables so carefully tucked away.

The worn purse was outfitted with a half dozen zippered pockets. The largest compartment held Debbie’s wallet, which contained no cash but all her credit cards.

The bag had been chosen for functionality and not fashion. It was stuffed with a dozen mundane items, including a ring of keys, tampons, rumpled receipts, gum wrappers, condoms, and a small bag of pot.

Macy wasn’t going to prejudge the woman on its contents. A twenty-one-year-old virgin who hadn’t tried weed was as rare as a unicorn.