“That you were.” Sloane glanced down at the bandages.
“Are you still in a lot of pain?”
“Actually, no. My hand feels much better. I haven’t taken a Vicodin since just after midnight. I’ll be calmer once Connie’s taken a look at it, but my guess is, it’s on the mend.”
“I’m glad.”
The ringing of Derek’s cell phone interrupted their conversation.
He put down his coffee, snapped open the phone, and answered. “Parker.” A pause. “You have something for me?” Derek looked at Sloane and mouthed the words campus police. “Right. In the data-storage archives.” A nod. “Makes sense. You’re sure they include the surveillance footage from that section of Lake Fred? April fourteenth of last year? Perfect.” He gave Sloane a thumbs-up. “Burn me a copy, starting a week before Penelope Truman’s disappearance right up to the day she vanished.”
“Two,” Sloane ordered in a whisper, holding up two fingers. “Burn two copies.”
“I’ll need two sets of DVDs,” Derek amended. “One for the FBI and one for Ms. Burbank.” A quick glance at his watch. “I’ll pick them up the minute they’re ready. How long?” Derek’s jaw tightened. “Four or five days? That’s not going to cut it. Yes, I’m aware of how much footage we’re talking about, and that it spans a full week. I’m also aware that we’re talking about a potential homicide investigation. I’ll get the college president to approve whatever overtime, equipment, and manpower you need to get the job done ASAP.”
Another pause. “How’s this for a compromise? Copy all the footage from April fourteenth and have that set of DVDs ready for me first thing tomorrow. The rest you can feed me in batches, as they’re completed. I’ll need the whole week’s worth in three days max. Beg, borrow, and steal equipment, and work it round the clock if need be. Great. So we understand each other. I’ll swing by at nine A.M. tomorrow.”
Derek disconnected the call and turned to Sloane. “I guess we lit a fire under the right asses. They found that footage even faster than I expected.”
“Even if it’s taking them a millennium to copy it. What’s the holdup?”
“They need extra disk drives, more techs—evidently, we’re talking about producing quite a hefty DVD collection, somewhere around twenty-five disks.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Well, at least you twisted their arms enough to get us the footage from the day of the abduction by tomorrow.” Sloane sighed. “Part of this is me, and my impatience. Nothing about this case is moving fast enough for me. Or for the Trumans. I’m praying there’s something on that damned footage that will lead to the answers they so desperately need.”
“What they need is closure,” Derek qualified pointedly.
Sloane shot him a glare. “You’re about as subtle as an avalanche.”
“Just making sure we’re on the same page.”
“Then I’ll say it in plain English so you can stop worrying.” Sloane neither flinched nor looked away. “Like I told you when I took on this case, I’m as aware of the odds as you are. It’s been a year. Short of a miracle, Penny’s dead. I’m not counting on handing the Trumans a happy ending. Just a modicum of peace and an end to the horror of not knowing.”
“The knowing could be worse.”
“I doubt that. Not after the scenarios they’ve imagined all these months.”
“Maybe. But the problem with knowing is that any hope they’ve held out, however irrational, will be gone.”
“I get it, Derek. And we’ll talk about counseling when the time comes. Right now we’re getting way ahead of ourselves. First we have to solve the case. Then we’ll deal with the aftermath. So back to the video surveillance. Can you messenger my copies to me tomorrow? I want them hot off the disk drives.”
“Are you footing the bill for messenger service? Because the Bureau sure won’t.”
/>
“I realize that. I’ll take care of the expense.”
“Then consider it done.”
“What about your copies? Will you be sending them straight down to Quantico?”
“Pretty much. First, I’ll scan each of them to see if anything obvious jumps out at me. Then I’ll overnight them down to the FBI lab. They can pick up subtleties I can’t.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Sloane caught her lower lip between her teeth as her mind organized the task into a logical sequence. “You have the manpower and the technical sophistication of the FBI backing you up. I have the personal investment and the luxury of being my own boss—which means no time accountability. So I can watch and rewatch DVDs round the clock. With all that going for us, something will turn up. It has to.”
Derek was just opening his mouth to reply, when his cell phone rang again. He punched it on. “Parker.” He was quiet for a while, his forehead creased in concentration. “The dates and times match up? What about today? Nothing? You’re sure?” A harsh exhale. “Okay, e-mail me your whole analysis. In the meantime, just give me the phone numbers.” He grabbed a hotel pad and pen, and scribbled something down. “Thanks, Chuck. I owe you one.”
Sloane eyed Derek as he disconnected the call and stared at the piece of hotel stationery. “Does this relate to our case?” she asked. “Or should I butt out?”