The Silence (Columbia River #2)(39)

Ava watched, her entire focus on the man. Todd was right. He moved like a younger person, and through his shirt, she could see the definition in his arms and chest. He takes care of himself.

But was this their man?

He turned and she leaned closer, studying the backpack, hoping to see something that indicated he had a weapon inside.

As if he’d be that sloppy.

“He’s still uncertain about his decision to park there,” Zander said.

“Got the license?” Ava asked without looking away from the screen.

“Already sent it off.”

The dark figure hefted his backpack into a better position on his back and took off at a jog toward the parking lot entrance. The entrance closest to the 7-Eleven.

“He’s going in the right direction,” Ava whispered. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Don’t jump to conclusions.

They all watched the man leave the view of the cameras. “Speed it up again,” Zander requested.

No one else entered the parking lot. Ava held her breath as she watched the time on the video get closer to 1:00 p.m. At 1:20 he entered the view of one of the cameras, and Pat slowed it down.

“He changed,” Ava said. He was now wearing a white short-sleeve shirt and dark shorts. The hat was still in place over the blond hair.

“The shirt was probably under the other one. Same with the shorts,” Zander said.

“Nah, I think those are those rip-off pants things,” said Pat. “You know . . . you unzip them around your thighs. Good for hiking when it warms up.”

“Either way, he deliberately changed.” Her voice was high. This has to be him. “There’s no other reason for him to change.”

“Sure there is,” Pat argued. “He was jogging, remember? Maybe he was trying to work up a sweat and then stripped down a bit when it got too hot. Maybe there are weights in the backpack. He could be training for something intense.”

The man in the video wiped sweat off his forehead as he stopped at his car. He lifted one foot onto the bumper and leaned in, stretching out his back leg.

As an athlete would.

Shit.

They continued to watch as he did the same with the other leg. The energy in the office dissipated. “He’s just a cranky athlete? Is that why he got pissed at the 7-Eleven?” Zander asked, straightening his back. He’d been bending closer and closer to the screen.

“I’d be cranky if I had to run in this heat,” offered Pat.

“Keep the video going,” said Ava. She pressed her lips together.

The man on-screen took off his backpack and set it on the hood of his car and did a few bouncing jumps in place as if working kinks out of his calves.

He’s not in any hurry to get away. Disappointment filled her.

“We’ll keep looking,” Zander said. “This is only our first stop.”

The man opened his car door and grabbed his backpack off the hood. He took three steps to the dumpster, lifted the lid, and hurled the backpack inside.

“Holy shit!” Pat said as Ava’s jaw fell open.

The man dropped the lid, got in his car, and drove away.





16

Mason drove in silence as Nora studied the file.

He’d offered to turn on music, but Nora said she couldn’t read and process while listening at the same time. He respected that. It was a beautiful day for a drive through the Columbia River Gorge. Blue skies, blue water, green trees, tall cliffs, and the occasional waterfall.

“What’s the deal with the parents’ deaths?” she asked as he took the Mosier exit off the highway.

“What do you mean?”

“You saw they died one day apart, right?”

He started. “No, I didn’t. I saw they died about five years ago, but I guess I didn’t notice the dates.”

“Maybe a car wreck where one survived a day longer than the other,” Nora speculated. “Where did they live?”

“Redmond . . . or was it Madras?” The Central Oregon towns weren’t that far apart, but Mason was annoyed that he wasn’t positive about the answer.

“Go easy on yourself,” Nora said.

He glanced over. She was watching him closely.

“You’ve been through a lot in the last two days.”

“We all have,” he stated.

She said nothing else but gave him the same silent look that Ava did when she thought he was being unreasonable. “No evidence reports from the crime scene team yet?”

“I saw some in my email. I need to print them out and add them to the book. Haven’t had time to read them yet.”

“What’s Veronica’s husband’s name?” Nora asked. “If he works for the school district, he might be home since it’s summer.”

“Alan.”

Mason took a right turn and parked in front of a two-story older home in a quiet neighborhood.

“Cute,” Nora commented. “Looks straight out of a Hallmark TV movie.”

Mason agreed. The white home actually had a white picket fence around the spacious yard and a huge tree with a swing. Kids? He spotted two bikes propped up against a post in the carport. They were pink.

He hadn’t come across anything that indicated the Lloyds had kids, but it made sense for the midforties couple. He hoped the children would be out of hearing distance during their talk.