I See You (Criminal Profiler, #2)(57)



She opened his back door and put her pizza box on top of his. “That your logo?”

He turned around. “Bingo.”

“I thought so. Galina comes in several times a week. Loves her toppings. The last time he saw her was Monday.”

“Was she with anyone?”

“She came in alone and paid cash. The shop has security cameras, so I suggest you get a warrant for the footage.”

“Will do.” Shaking his head, he put his car in drive. “He told you all this?”

“I said Galina was coming into real money, and there was a finder’s fee for anyone that helped me.”

Vaughan arrived at the police station minutes later, and with pizza boxes in hand, he followed her to his desk.

“Point the way to the ladies’ room?”

“To your left, just past the break room.”

“Perfect.”

Like the cashier, he enjoyed watching her walk away.

When she vanished around the corner, he flipped his attention to his desk and the dozen pink slips. He sifted through the names and numbers, deciding they could all wait.

When Spencer returned, she held two sodas and several napkins. They opened the box from Gino’s first, and each selected a slice. He sat behind his desk, and she, in front in a metal chair, scooted up close to the edge.

After they’d each sampled the second box of pizza, he asked, “What do you think?”

“If I were a hungry young girl, it would be amazing.”

“Tell me you have not eaten all the pizza,” Hughes said as she approached the desk with a computer tablet in hand.

“For you, we have plenty.” Vaughan grinned.

“Bless you. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” She pulled up a chair, grabbed a slice, and took a big bite before pressing several keys on her tablet. As Spencer reached for a second slice, Hughes asked, “How can you be so slim and eat so much? It’s going to take me weeks to work off this meal.”

“My dance instructors used to tell me I was fat,” Spencer said.

Hughes snorted. “How much did you weigh when you danced?”

“One hundred fifteen pounds.”

“I weighed that in the third grade,” Hughes countered with a chuckle.

“They wanted me closer to one hundred.”

“At your height?”

“The teachers liked thin and wispy,” Spencer said.

Vaughan thought Spencer looked damn fantastic. “And how did you get to be a cop?”

“I broke my leg when I was eighteen and, while I was rehabbing, went to school to fill the extra time and fell in love with criminal science.”

“Ballet’s loss is the FBI’s gain,” Hughes said.

“So they tell me.” Spencer took several bites of her food before asking, “What do you have for us, Detective Hughes?”

Hughes wiped her fingers off with a napkin and punched more buttons. “The first act of this story occurs on July first. Hadley and Skylar are shopping.”

The image of the two in a dress shop appeared. They stood at the counter, and while Hadley paid the bill, the girl stared at her phone. The sales clerk seemed to speak to Skylar, but the girl didn’t look up. Hadley nudged her, and the girl turned and walked out of the store.

Hughes pressed another button, changing the camera angle. “And then this happened.”

Vaughan understood teenage hormones and moods, secretly glad he had a boy. As he watched the screen, he noticed a man who had been leaning against a store across the street began to follow them. The man wore a hat, a long-sleeve shirt, and dark pants.

“Did everybody see our man across the street?” Hughes asked.

Vaughan and Spencer nodded.

“On to act three. Hadley is at the hardware store. She bought a cooler that day. Her actual purchase was of no interest until I caught this.” Hughes pressed a button. “Remember this is around the time her husband and neighbor said she started to act differently.”

Hadley walked out of the store, and as she crossed the sidewalk, a man came up on her right. He was tall and lean like the man in the first video, and this time he walked directly toward her. When it became clear she had not noticed him, he called out to her. She lifted her gaze and at first appeared confused. Then she took a step back.

Grinning, the man moved closer, stopping less than three feet from her. Her confusion shifted to worry, and she gripped the handle of the cooler. She stumbled backward and then turned and ran toward her car. The stranger pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up.

“Who is our mystery man?” Vaughan asked.

Hughes selected the man’s face and enlarged it. “I don’t know.”

“Can you print that out for me?” Vaughan asked.

She dropped her gaze back to the list of phone numbers. “Sure.”

When the printer across the room spat out the image, Hughes crossed to the machine, retrieved it, and handed it to Spencer.

“Judging by Hadley’s expression, she knew this guy very well,” Spencer said.

“We find this guy, we might find Skylar and Hadley?”

“Maybe,” Spencer said.

This added a new dimension to their search. “I’ll show the picture to the motel manager where Galina died. He said he didn’t see who Galina showed up with, but he might still know this guy.”

Mary Burton's Books