Sander steps back, sitting down in one of the chairs and whipping his phone out.
“Yes. I was on a job,” the man says.
Milo leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Who’s the job for?”
The man shrugs. “I couldn’t tell you. I never met the guy. We did everything over the phone.”
“What about payment?”
“Cash left in my mailbox.”
“So you had no idea who you were working for?”
“No,” he replies like it’s no big deal. I can feel my temper rising, I must make a sound, because the captain gives me a quick look.
“What was the job?” Milo asks.
“Just said he wanted me to follow that woman and find out where she was going and who she was with.”
“You realize she has a stalker, right?”
The guy’s eyes widen. “What?”
“Two girls are dead. Two girls who look just like the woman you’ve been photographing.”
The guy’s face pales, and his mouth drops open as the implications hit.
“Doesn’t look good for you,” Milo states calmly.
“No, I was hired to take those photos. I didn’t know she had a stalker!” he exclaims, panic creeping into his voice.
“Seems like something a PI should know, right?” Milo says coolly.
“I swear I didn’t know.”
“How long have you been following Miss Cartwright?”
“Only two days.”
Milo stands and makes his way to the door without another word. A second later, he’s in the viewing room with us.
“What do you think?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest.
Sander is typing away furiously on his phone. “His story checks out. He is a PI from Denver. Only got into town Monday night.”
“So he was, what? A decoy?” Milo asks.
The captain turns to us, a firm frown on his face. “Yes. Someone’s trying to throw us off their scent.”
“Or trying to scare Salena,” Milo adds.
My fists clench at my side. A nagging feeling spreads through the pit of my stomach, and I pace the small room. My eyes continuously flicker to the man on the other side of the glass. My mind races as I think about everything we know. Which isn’t a lot. This was the first lead we’ve had.
My phone rings, and I look down at the unknown number. I swipe my finger over the green button and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello.”
“Detective Sinclair?” a deep, gravelly voice says.
