Cut and Run(46)

She leafed through the pages of a spiral notebook until she found a note that had her backtracking footage to a different time stamp. “We know when Macy Crow was struck on Monday night per Officer Holcombe’s body and dashcam footage. I was sent footage from three retail shops. All three picked up Macy Crow, and all confirmed what we already knew. So I backed up the dates and started looking for Jack Crow.” She pressed a button. “Here is what I found on Wednesday, June thirteenth, at seven p.m.”

The camera’s lens captured black-and-white footage of the back alley that ran behind the main street.

“There was a lot of people coming and going from the back entrance of this particular bar,” Savage said. “And it’s always amazing to me how many people do what they do in public. Just about everything is on camera these days. Do they not realize someone is watching?”

Hayden thought about the moment in the elevator with Faith on Monday night. It had been all he could do to keep his hands off her.

Savage tapped her screen with her fingertip and stopped the footage. “What’s so special about that seven p.m. time slot is that Jack Crow visits Second Chances.”

“According to his son and assistant, Crow was practically a hermit,” Hayden said.

“I talked to the owner of Maxwell’s,” Brogan said. “They said he used to come every night at five for dinner. Burger well done and extra fries. But about two months ago he started coming less, and they hadn’t seen him at all the week before he died.”

“Well, he made it to Second Chances on June thirteenth,” Savage said as she tapped the screen. “We start with the first sighting at seven p.m. I found security camera footage of him entering via the alley entrance. The same footage showed him leaving through the alley door twenty minutes later.”

What were the chances that Crow had not seen Garnet during those twenty minutes? It was possible but not probable.

Savage sped up the tape to 7:20 p.m. Crow’s broad shoulders were slightly stooped and his face was pale, but there was no missing the anger in his expression. He paused by the back door and pounded his fist against the building’s brick wall before he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away.

“He’s pissed,” Hayden said. “And that kind of anger doesn’t jive with showing up at a bar and not finding your buddy there.”

“Note that no one follows him as he leaves the alley toward his truck.” She pressed another button, and the image on the screen switched to a camera across the street. Crow was never picked up on this camera, but his truck could be seen in the background driving away. Seconds after, a hardtop jeep followed.

“Could be coincidence,” Hayden said.

Savage froze the frame and tapped on the license plate. “I hear you. And I’d have bought into that as well if not for the third camera.”

The third camera was mounted across from Second Chances, and it captured the jeep in full frame. The driver got out. He was wearing a hoodie and appeared to be male. His identity was hidden until, for a brief instant, the man looked up, and the camera caught a partial view of his face.

Savage froze the frame and reached for two printouts she’d made earlier. “Do either of you gentlemen recognize this man?”

Hayden stared at the shadowed profile and felt a rush of recognition and frustration. He’d had the guy in his sights. He’d had him.

“I can’t say for certain if this is the man who killed Crow and also attacked Macy,” Savage said. “But he was following Crow a week before he died.”

“Want me to put out a BOLO?” Brogan asked.

“Yeah. I want Dirk Crow picked up as soon as possible,” Hayden said.



Hiding in plain sight had always worked best for him. He found the more cloak-and-dagger shit people did, the more likely they were to be noticed. A change of shirt, a different hat, or a swap of coat or hoodie was all it took to change his look well enough so no one noticed.

When he heard the bar’s back door close, he eased up in the back seat of Heather’s car so he could look in the rearview mirror. As soon as he spotted Heather leaving Second Chances, he ducked down low, blending into the shadows. It was past one a.m., and she was leaving a little later than most nights, but he guessed she and Garnet had done the nasty as they liked to do in the back room. The later time suited him even better.

Her heels clipping on the paved alley signaled that she was approaching the car. The lights flashed as she unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel. The remnants of her perfume mingled with the scents of cigarette smoke, booze, and sex. She sat for a moment, allowing a deep sigh.

As she shoved her key in the ignition and started the engine, he rose up behind her and pressed the blade to her neck.

She jerked and sucked in a breath, ready to scream. “What the hell?”

He clamped his hand over her mouth, the razor tip pressed against her beating jugular. “I’ll cut your throat right here, Heather, if you say a word.”

She shook her head, looking into the rearview mirror at him. He didn’t care if she saw him. He doubted she’d recognize him, and if she did, she’d never get the chance to tell.

“Now, you’re going to be quiet like a good girl, or I’ll end it right here. Understood?”

Her eyes shimmered with fear, but she did not make one sound. Slowly he removed his hand, and the knife tip released a little from her skin.