“It has to be that guy,” Bryn commented. He watched his own reactions. The moment he got the reading was plain.
“Black hooded top?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s aware of the camera position. He’s keeping other people between him and the camera’s line of sight. Hood up, and he keeps his head turned away when he gets to the checkout.”
“Pays cash,” Dave added.
“Definitely knows what he’s doing,” Gunnar said. “Can you make out what he’s buying?”
“The belt’s obscured. Wait, I see lemon juice,” Bryn said as the man packed his purchases in a paper sack. “Honey, salt…sorry, I didn’t catch anything else.”
“Me either,” Gunnar admitted. “I think we’ve got the right man, though. Most of the other people in the line are female. I can only see two other younger men, neither of whom is acting suspiciously, but we’ll have to rule them out. Then there’s the old guy with the walker. Don’t think he’s a likely candidate.”
“The registers are digital. Give me a while and I can get the accounts team to search for the time of the transaction and get you a list of what he purchased.”
“That would be great,” Gunnar said.
“It may take a while but I’ll get them on it right away.”
“I guess we should get back to HQ then?” Bryn straightened. “We ought to get a treat for Emmett.”
“You mean one for you with leftovers for Emmett, don’t you?”
“How dare you? Casting aspersions on my kind gesture.”
Dave was eying them. “Bakery has vanilla-glazed French crullers today, just saying.”
“Let’s go!” Bryn was already out of the door.
“Hold on a goddamn minute!” Gunnar turned back to Dave. “Do you have access to staff rosters? We’ll need to talk to the cashier on that checkout.”
I should have thought of that.Bryn hovered in the corridor.Need to focus on the fucking job, not the novelty of being allowed out in public.He scuffed the toe of his boot on the linoleum tile.
“Yeah, sure.” Dave shuffled through some paperwork. “Here you go. That’s Betty-Jo Jackson. She’s off today. Next shift is tomorrow midday. Lemmegive you her details. She’s only been with us a week.” He scribbled an address and cell number on a scrap of paper.
“We’ll try to catch her before she comes in. Thanks.” Gunnar backed out of the office.
“Sorry,” Bryn muttered.
“What for?”
“Not thinking about obvious lines of inquiry.”
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. You’re new to all this and the siren call of crullers is hard to resist.”
“Fuck off.”
“You want baked goods or not?”
Bryn lifted his glasses so Gunnar could see his eyes. “Yes. I do.” He pushed them back in place as the store manager poked his head out of his office.
“You guys get what you need?”
“For now,” Gunnar responded. “We might be back.”
“Sure thing. You can find your way out, right?”
