From the corner of my eye, I see Dan nodding. “Captain said we should get that today or tomorrow.”
“Nothing from the parking garage itself?”
“I checked with management, and they said that camera is out of order.” Finch is proving to be pretty good at this stuff.
“Jesus,” I mutter. That’s dangerous. Assaults happen all the time in dark, dank places like that. I immediately think of Daisy. Not only that, I’m sure other women have spaces down there, and I’d bet they’re expecting it to be safe for them, but if the security camera doesn’t work, that’s dangerous.
“Finch,” I snap.
“Yeah?”
“Call their managementtodayand tell them if they don’t get that repaired this week, I’m calling Ames Inspection Division. Maybe a hefty fine is what they need to get that shit done.”
“Yes, sir.” Surprisingly, Finch doesn’t sound like a smartass when he says that.
“Thanks.” I pick up the photocopied journal that Dan created. “Becker seems to have quite a few comments about the guys she sleeps with in here.”
“She has a rating system,” Dan explains.
I read about another guy we should check out. “Evan Parker got a C+.”
“Hey. That’s as good as an A. Every other guy seems to score a D or lower in that book.”
“That’s rough,” Finch grumbles.
Dan looks out his window. “And really shitty. To judge a guy like that.”
“Guys do that kind of shit all the time,” Finch adds. “The dudes in my frat had contests.”
“You were in a frat?” That says a lot about this guy. Frat guys are a pain in the ass.
He nods. “For a year, but then I quit. Guys were pricks.”
Alrighty then. I guess I was wrong about Finch. Again.
I leaf through the pages once more.
“So, she used initials here for some of the people. DF, which I’m going to assume is Dylan Forrester again.”
“She didn’t have much good to say about him. She gave him a D-minus in the sack. And as we read from her social media post, the guy was quick.” Dan chuckles. “Poor girl.”
“And then there’s Bryant Falco.”
“He’s mentioned several times, along with Quinn Maxwell.” Dan reaches back and takes the packet from my hand. “Here. Let me find it.”
“With Quinn?” I pick up my phone. “Hang on.” Without a thought, I type out a message to Quinn.
Me:Do you know someone named Bryant Falco?
Seconds later, I get a response.
Quinn:He was a guy I used to like. A friend. Why?
Me:Did he know Kara Becker?
Quinn:Yes. They dated for a while.
Me:You have his number?
