“The way you carry yourself. Your discipline. Not many people are as dedicated as you to working out. That generally translates into high-achieving professional.”
“Which makes you …?”
“A guy who’s just traveling around the country before he settles on a graduate school. I’m trading swim lessons at the gym for pool time. Chances are I’ll be moving on soon.”
That explained why he’d appeared out of nowhere a few days ago. “Right. Well, Martin, I’ve got to get going.”
She tossed a final smile and slid behind the wheel, slamming the door in place. Inside her car the tensions gripping her body eased. Silly to be so wound up. Must be the lingering nerves from ZZ’s.
As she fired up the engine she tossed one more smile at Martin and was a bit surprised to find him staring at her with an intensity that rattled her composure.
She nodded.
He waved.
And she drove off, knowing already that she wouldn’t be swimming in the morning.
Chapter 15
Friday, October 7, 7 A.M.
“We got a break in the case,” Garrison said to Malcolm as he entered his office, two cups of coffee in his hands.
Malcolm sipped his coffee, needing the jolt. “What’s that?”
“We found Sierra Day’s car.”
Malcolm set the second cup on Garrison’s desk. “Where?”
“The big outlet mall twenty minutes south of here. Local deputies have roped off the area around it.”
“Let’s go.”
Within minutes, they were on the Washington Beltway headed toward I-95 South. The cold day was clear and bright.
“So why do you look like shit?” Garrison said.
“I could say the same for you. You slept as much as I did.”
Garrison grunted. “I’m more interested in your reason.”
“Mine wasn’t so interesting. I was reviewing surveillance tapes of ZZ’s.”
Garrison shot Malcolm a glare. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Did Eva tell you why she and Angie went to the bar?”
“Lulu Sweet.”
“Yeah, well, her connection to Dixon and to Angie just bugged the hell out of me. I wanted a look at the surveillance tapes. I wasn’t sure how often ZZ taped over them.”
“And?” Garrison said.
“Turns out the tapes go back about ten days, and then ZZ re-tapes. The cameras focus mostly on the bartenders. ZZ is worried that they’re double hitting the booze or stealing from the till. He doesn’t seem to care much about the customers.”
“And?”
“There are shots of Lulu working the bar. In fact, she was there two nights ago. The last footage of her was around nine-seventeen, and then she never showed up again.”
“What about Dixon?”
“He showed up on the tape nine nights ago,” Malcolm said.
“Was Lulu working that night?”
“No.” He sipped his coffee. “He sat at the bar for an hour or so and then left. No trouble. In fact, he barely spoke to anyone.”
“So Dixon hangs out in the bar where Lulu, the woman who nearly put him behind bars, works.”
Malcolm drummed his fingers on his thigh. “But he never spoke to her or approached her.”
“Just getting the lay of the land.”
“It looks that way. But he did have an airtight alibi for two nights ago. At some reception for the ballet.” Malcolm snapped his fingers. “Ballet. Zoe said he met Sierra at a ballet fundraiser.”
Garrison shoved out a breath. “He’s tied up in this. But I don’t see how.”
“Yet. If we dig enough, we’ll figure it out.” Malcolm sipped his coffee. “So why do you look like shit?”
Garrison glanced at him. “Eva broke up with me.”
Not much surprised him anymore. That did. “I thought you two were tight.”
He shook his head. “I did too.”
“Did she say why?”
“Said with her family history it was a matter of time before she screwed things up, and it was better just to end it now versus later.”
“I don’t see the logic.”
Garrison shoved out a breath. “You and me both, pal.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Give her a day or two to cool off, and then go talk to her. Something is chewing on her, and until I know exactly what it is, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Do you think it’s another guy?”
Garrison gripped the wheel. “It crossed my mind at about two a.m., but no, I don’t. She’s running away because she’s afraid of something. I’ll find out what’s going on.”
Malcolm shrugged. “You are a detective.”
Garrison’s grin held no mirth. “So they tell me.”
They arrived at the mall a half hour later and drove to the northwest quadrant of the parking lot, located in front of a furniture store. The car had been roped off with yellow crime-scene tape, and a deputy was parked beside it.
When they pulled next to the deputy’s car, he glanced toward them and then pushed himself out. He had a barrel chest, a thick mustache, and wire-rimmed glasses that framed dark gray eyes.
He held out a hand to Garrison and then Malcolm. “Deputy Hall. Looks like we found the car you were looking for.”
The detectives exchanged pleasantries with Hall and moved toward Sierra Day’s car, a bright red Mini with personalized plates that said SPRSTAR. There was a ding in the bumper, as Gold had said. Blue and red prayer beads hung from the rearview mirror and a bumper sticker read: THEATER ROCKS!
It wasn’t a plain four-door that just blended into the scenery, seen and forgotten within seconds. No, this car made a statement. People took note of it when it passed. Just as they did with Sierra.
“Car’s locked up tight,” the deputy said.
“Forensics found a spare key in her room at Zoe Morgan’s and passed it on to us.” Malcolm pulled rubber gloves from his pocket, and then the key, and unlocked all four doors with two clicks of his wrist. “Have you called your forensics team?”
“We have. Should be here within the hour.”
There appeared to be no signs of violence. Her purse was not in the car, and the interior was neat and clean. No stray coffee cups or papers. Her apartment was a mess, yet her car, which was a part of her public persona, was immaculate.
The forensics van arrived just minutes later, and soon Malcolm watched as the tech meticulously photographed the car’s exterior and interior. He dusted for prints on the door, the hatchback, and the steering wheel. He lifted dozens of prints, but that didn’t mean much. Most likely they all belonged to the victim.
Malcolm’s gaze scanned the enormous parking lot, which in the last hour had filled with hundreds of cars. “It’s a damn needle in a haystack.”
Malcolm stared at the car’s open hatchback. All that Sierra had kept in the back was a garment bag from a mall store called Joy! and a small valise filled with makeup. “Any word from mall security?”
“I called them again. They’re pulling tapes. Should be soon.”
Malcolm rubbed his eyes. He didn’t want to look at more tapes. But he would. “You want to stay with the car while I visit that dress shop and security?”
“Sure.” Most didn’t realize that a crime scene extended to anywhere there was evidence. This car, even though it was in another county, was as much a part of the Sierra Day crime scene as the spot where they found the bone
s.
Malcolm made his way into the mall, located the directory, and quickly found the store. It was an upscale women’s dress shop that carried evening apparel.
He moved to the store’s front desk and waited as a petite blonde, neatly made up, rang out another woman. The sales clerk glanced at Malcolm and frowned. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Sure.”
He didn’t fit in a store like this, and she knew it. His presence had set off alarm bells. The customer left, and Malcolm pulled out his badge. “I’m Detective Malcolm Kier. I’m with Alexandria Police.”
The woman fiddled with the gold bangles on her wrist as she stared at his badge. “You’re kind of far afield, aren’t you?”
“Had a question about a customer of yours.” He pulled Sierra’s picture from his breast pocket. “She would have been in here week before last. Tuesday or Wednesday.”
The woman glanced at the photo and immediately nodded. “I remember her. She bought a green satin dress for a party.”
Witnesses had said Sierra wore a green dress to the cast party. “We found her car outside. In it was a Joy! bag containing a green satin dress. What day was she in here?”
“Thursday a week ago.”
So she’d made it to her party in her new dress and back to the mall to return it before she’d vanished. “Any reason why she’d return here with the dress.”
The clerk frowned. “I thought she’d bring the dress back.”
“What do you mean?”
“She asked me twice about our return policy. Wanted to know if the dress didn’t match shoes or a jacket could she bring it back. I’ll bet she went to a party or something, kept the tags, and thought she could return the dress.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“Enough.” Full lips frowned.
“She say anything about the party or her plans?”
“She was real excited. Said there was a bigwig who was going to be there. He was going to fund her so that she could make it to Broadway.”
“She say anything about this guy?”
“Only that he was well connected and rich.”
The list of people from the party had revealed no one matching that description. If she’d met up with him it had been later after the party.
He thanked the clerk and tracked down the mall’s security office located at the end of a bland hallway near the food court. It didn’t take long to find the head of security’s office, produce a badge, and make introductions.