After She's Gone (West Coast #3)

After She's Gone (West Coast #3) Page 139

Except there was another piece of damning evidence that had just come in via e-mail from the traffic department. Nash looked up at her computer monitor to study an image captured by a traffic cam late last night. A woman driving a Honda making an illegal U-turn within half a mile of where the murder took place. The traffic cam had time-stamped the picture at 1:14 AM and the woman behind the wheel of the car registered to her name? None other than Cassie Kramer.

Cassie was not only in the area, she’d been within blocks of the murder within the time frame that the crime had been committed.

Yeah, it was harder and harder to think Cassie effin’ Kramer, certified mental case, wasn’t involved with two homicides, one attempted homicide, and her sister’s disappearance.

Still, it didn’t sit right.

Disgusted, she threw her pencil onto the desk just as she heard someone outside the opening to her cubicle. As she looked up she found Double T entering her space.

Somewhere between the middle of the damned night and now, he’d managed to change into fresh jeans, an open-collared shirt, and jacket. In his right hand, he carried a bag with a sticker indicating that he’d stopped at her favorite local deli, located on the opposite side of the next block. In his left, he held a drink carrier with two oversize cups. “Figured you could use something besides bad coffee and ibuprofen.”

“You’re right.” And to confirm, her stomach growled.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Pointing at the bag she asked, “What’ve you got?”

“Vegetarian Delight or some such crap. And a Diet Coke. I know you’re a purist these days and try to avoid soda and sweets and whatever, but go ahead, indulge. Live a little. A little caffeine and pseudo sugar could do you some good.”

“Or more harm than good, but okay. I’m in.” She needed a kick start and some days all the body cleansing, organic foods, and meatless Mondays got to her, so she broke training. Today just happened to be one of those days.

Double T set the drinks and white sack on the corner of her desk, then pulled up the visitor’s chair and spread out the lunch. After a morning of bitter coffee, two power bars, and yes, the ibuprofen, the contents of the bag smelled like heaven.

From the first bite, the toasted sandwich of melted cheese, onions, tomatoes, and avocado topped with some kind of wasabi mayo hit the spot. Washing a bite down with the soda didn’t hurt either. She could almost feel her energy level rise while Double T dug into meatballs, sauce, and melted cheese oozing over a thick slab of bread.

“Getting anywhere?” he asked, hitching his chin at her notes.

“Nowhere fast . . . or nowhere slow. Take your pick.” She took another bite. “Forensics isn’t back on the bullets from the victims, but I bet they match. And the lab is still working on trying to find any DNA on the laminated masks, also checking the paper and elastic bands so we can start tracking down anyone who might have bought the products used.”

“A long shot.”

“But a shot. Right now I’ll take one from a BB gun fired two miles away.” Another bite. Yeah, she was definitely feeling better. “What about you?”

“Got a call from Larry Sparks.” At the raise of her eyebrows, he clarified, “Sparks is a lieutenant with the OSP. Get this, he’s been tracking down registrations for a 2007 Hyundai. Santa Fe. An SUV.”

“And you’re telling me this now . . . why?”

“He’s doing it as a favor to a friend.”

She still didn’t get it, but from the smug smile on Double T’s face, this information meant something. “And I, or we, care?”

“Hmm.” He took another bite followed by a long swallow from his cup. “His friend is Shane Carter.”

“Jenna Hughes’s husband.” Now he had her attention.

“Yep. And they’re looking for the vehicle because . . . well, here’s where it gets a little off the grid.” She waited impatiently while he chewed, then he said, “Some kid at the hospital where Cassie Kramer was a patient saw this car in the lot. An unusual car for the lot . . . well, the kid’s unusual, too, knows all sorts of trivia shit and cars are one of his interests. Supposedly he can name any make and model since they were invented, or something like that.” He waved his explanation away, as if it didn’t matter. “Anyway, because Cassie thought someone came into her room and told her that her sister was alive, but you know, left without giving any information, she’s trying to track the woman down.”