"He doesn't want to be found," Polacca said as they grabbed lunch at a small diner."That's not the behavior of an innocent man."
Kari said nothing, but she agreed it didn't look good for Martin.The pattern was suspicious—disappearing after parole ended, cutting ties with everyone, avoiding any situation where his name might appear in official records.
It felt good to have such a clear reason to believe they'd found their killer.But discovering their killer's identity wasn't worth a whole lot if they couldn't actually locate him.
They were finishing their meal when Polacca's phone rang.She listened, then her expression changed."We'll be right there."
She hung up and looked at Kari."That was dispatch.Anonymous tip just came in—someone saw a man matching Martin's description at a small mechanic shop on the south side.Place called Ramon's Auto Repair."
They paid quickly and drove to the address, a run-down garage with two bays and a battered hand-painted sign.The mechanic, an older man with grease-stained hands, looked wary when they approached.
"Ramon?"Kari asked, showing her badge.
"That's me.What's this about?"
"We're looking for Martin Kooyahoema.We got a tip he might be here."
Ramon's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes.Recognition, maybe, or calculation."Don't know anyone by that name."
"He's about five-ten, lean build, dark hair.He might be using a different name."Kari pulled out her phone and showed him Martin's booking photo."Have you seen this man?"
Ramon barely glanced at the screen."Nope.Sorry."
"We're not trying to cause trouble," Polacca said."We just need to talk to him.If you know where he is, you'd be helping him by telling us."
"Can't help you with someone I've never seen."Ramon turned back to the engine he'd been working on, a clear dismissal.
They couldn't compel him to talk, couldn't search the property without a warrant.But Kari's instincts told her Ramon knew something.The man's body language screamed dishonesty.
They walked back toward their vehicles, but Kari paused at the edge of the lot, looking at the small apartment above the garage.A curtain moved in one of the windows—just a flicker, easily missed.Someone was up there, watching them.
"See that?"she asked Polacca quietly.
"Yeah.Someone's home."
They moved their vehicles farther down the street, out of sight of the window.Then they waited, sitting in Kari's Jeep with a clear view of the building.If Martin was in that apartment, he'd have to come out eventually.They could wait.
An hour passed.Then another.The afternoon heat made the interior of the vehicle stifling despite the windows being cracked.Kari's patience was wearing thin when the apartment door finally opened.
A man emerged—lean, dark-haired, cautious.He looked left and right, then started down the exterior stairs.
"That's him," Polacca said, comparing his face to the booking photo on her phone."That's Martin Kooyahoema."
They were out of the Jeep immediately, moving to intercept him before he could disappear again.
"Martin Kooyahoema?"Kari called out.
The man froze halfway down the stairs.For a moment, Kari thought he might bolt, might try to run back up to the apartment or jump the railing and take off across the lot.His body language was pure flight response—tense, coiled, ready to move.
But then something in his posture shifted.His shoulders slumped, as if he'd been expecting this and had finally accepted the inevitable.
"Yeah," he said quietly."That's me."
"We need to talk to you about a knife.One that was used in an attack last night."Kari kept her distance, her hand near her weapon but not on it.She didn't want to spook him."Can you come down here, please?"
"I don't know anything about an attack."Martin's voice was tight, defensive.
"Your DNA says otherwise," Polacca said."It was found on the knife used to attack Emma Talayesva.We need you to explain how it got there."
