Forgive Me(34)

CHAPTER 18



They met Sean Musgrave in the food court in the bowels of Union Station. He was waiting for them in front of Kelly’s Cajun Grill as planned.

Musgrave was in his late twenties with a clean-shaven baby face and the solid build of a high school linebacker. He wore a white shirt with a couple official looking patches sewn on the sleeve. Pinned to his breast pocket was a bronze star reminiscent of something a sheriff might have. With him was a swarthy looking fellow with a goatee, dressed in a nice suit that didn’t look like it was bought at the mall.

He introduced himself as Vincent Cosco, general manager of the shops at Union Station and the guy in charge of mall security. Vincent led Angie and Mike through a locked metal door at the back of an alcove where the restrooms also were located. The shopping area’s nice lighting and visual amenities were evidently saved for places where customers actually hung out. Back where cash registers didn’t chime, it was a different aesthetic. The walls were bare concrete and matched the color and material of the floor. The lighting was dim but bright enough to show off the exposed ductwork, wires, and copper pipes overhead.

He took everyone to a windowless room with a coffeemaker that looked like a relic from some archeological dig, a sofa, rectangular table, and bridge chairs—all that wouldn’t be picked up curbside even if they had a TAKE ME sign pinned to them—and a small fridge Angie wouldn’t open if Mike double-dog dared her.

Musgrave and Vincent sat on one side of the table, Angie and Mike on the other. She withdrew the pictures of Nadine from her bag and spread them on the table for Musgrave to study.

He looked them over, one by one, taking his time, being thoughtful. Angie knew nothing about his background, but he’d seen something, he remembered it, and he’d taken the time to contact someone who might care. That made him A-okay in her book.

“Yeah, that’s her all right.” Musgrave nodded.

Vincent picked up the pictures and studied the photos for himself. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” said Musgrave to his boss. “It was on the second floor, between Heydari Design and Jois Fragrance. I remember it because I thought the girl looked young and might be nicking.”

Vincent looked to Angie and Mike. “Nicking is a term we use for shoplifting.”

“But she wasn’t stealing?” Mike asked.

“Nah, at least I think she wasn’t,” Musgrave said. “A guy came up and talked to her for a while. I was watching because I had my eye on her anyway. I thought she knew him at first, but then he walked away. The girl stuck around, but then she took off after the guy. That’s the last I saw her.”

“And you remembered it that clearly?” Angie was dubious.

Musgrave nodded again. “Yeah. I mean, it was like a thing between them. It was . . . like a little story or something. I dunno. Guess it caught my eye and I remembered it.”

A mall cop observing a young girl closely didn’t give Angie the creep vibes. It was Musgrave’s job, and she believed his accounting of events.

“Do you remember when you saw her?”

Musgrave’s face went a little blank. “I’m not sure.”

“Do you remember doing anything that day? Buying anything?”

Musgrave gave this some thought. “Oh yeah. I went to Atlas Comics and bought the new Batman book. It came that day. That was weeks ago. Dang, time flies. I wouldn’t have thought it was that long ago, but it was.”

“What made you remember that?” Good old Mike, always probing.

“The cover had a young girl about Nadine’s age chained to a chair and the Joker was standing behind her, but all you could really see was his face. It was an awesome cover and it stuck in my mind because of that girl.”

Angie bought his explanation, no problem. She had a hard time not jumping out of her skin, though. “You wouldn’t happen to have the receipt, would you?”

Musgrave pursed his lips and fished out a wallet thick as a Bible from his back pocket. He looked a little embarrassed at its girth. “I collect paper like lint. I don’t really toss anything until I can’t sit comfortably anymore. Silly habit.”

For the next minute or so, he leafed through weeks of his life documented in the form of scrap paper. He unfolded every receipt he had stuffed in his wallet since goodness knows when and eventually handed Angie a slip of paper marked with faded blue ink. Angie confirmed it was a receipt from Atlas Comics, and the item purchased was indeed a Batman comic book. She glanced at the printed date . . . and saw it was dated six weeks ago.

“Is there surveillance footage near those stores I could look at?” It was hard to contain the excitement in her voice.

Musgrave turned to Vincent, who said, “Yeah, it’s all online. We purge the data every six months for storage reasons.”

“Could I see the footage, please?” Angie kept her expression as still as possible. She was trying to manage her own expectations. If this lead didn’t pan out, the disappointment would hit hard.

Vincent left the room and returned carrying a laptop computer. It did not take long to open the security camera system’s interface in a web browser.

“A few years back we would have had a tape library to sift through,” Vincent said. “Now it’s all digitized and easy to find footage. Mostly we use it for shoplifting cases, but we’ve certainly caught a number of other crimes on camera.” He returned his focus to the laptop screen.