"Lieutenant, Ms. Daniels, sorry to interrupt your afternoon." Winters nodded in my direction with his silver-streaked hair.
"No problem. What's going on?" Liam asked. Liam moved to stand beside me as I stood from the couch.
"We got a tip from a business near the hardware store. Their security camera picked up something the night of the fire."
Winters pulled a flash drive from his pocket and held it up.
"What's on it?" I asked, muting the TV.
"Someone in a gray hoodie and black pants was spotted lurking near the hardware store about twenty minutes before the fire was reported. We don't have a clear shot of the face, but it's more than we've had so far," Winters explained.
Liam reached for his phone. "I'm calling the crew over. More eyes on this might help."
"Do you think your guys might recognize something we missed?" Winters asked.
Liam nodded. "Jaxon and Dane are off today. They both lived in Goodwin Grove their whole lives. If this person is local, there's a chance they might recognize something about their build, their walk, anything."
While Liam made the calls, I headed to the kitchen to make coffee. By the time the coffee was ready, Jaxon and Dane were at the front door. They were in civilian clothes — jeans and T-shirts — rather than their uniforms. Still, they carried themselves with the same readiness I associated with firefighters on duty.
"The lieutenant's living room is the new investigation headquarters," Jaxon announced, dropping onto the couch.
While everyone said their pleasantries, Liam set up the laptop and connected it to the TV. On the screen was an image of an alleyway behind the hardware store.
"The timestamp says this is 9:47 p.m., and the fire was reported at 10:13 p.m.," Winters explained.
Liam hit play, and for several seconds, nothing happened. Someone then entered the frame from the right, medium height, wearing exactly what Winters described. They wore a gray hoodie pulled low over their face, black pants, and carried something in their right hand that looked like a small duffel bag.
The figure moved with purpose, neither running nor moving slowly. They checked over their shoulder twice before disappearing around the corner of the building.
"Is that it? We can't see shit," Jaxon said in disappointment.
"Wait. There's more." Liam forwarded about five minutes, and this time, the figure appeared without a duffel bag, moving quickly, almost jogging, as he exited the frame.
"Play it again," Winters instructed.
Liam replayed the footage three more times, each time focusing on different details: the person's height, their build, and the way they moved.
"Something about his walk. Play it one more time but slow it down when he first enters the frame," Jaxon muttered.
Liam rolled the footage again, moving at half speed as the figure appeared.
"Stop right there. The way he's holding his left arm slightly away from his body. Wait, isn't that Whitaker's nephew, Tyler?" Jaxon shouted, pointing at the screen.
The room fell silent.
"Tyler Whitaker?" Dane asked.
"Do you know him?" I asked.
Dane nodded. "Yeah, I've seen him around. He does odd jobs for his uncle. I remember his walk. He kind of swings his left arm out. He dislocated his shoulder playing football in high school in River Hill."
"The guy looks to be about the right height, skinny kid, early twenties," Jaxon added, growing more confident.
"I'm calling the chief and telling him we might have an ID on our suspect." Liam's eyes met mine before he turned away to speak into the phone.
"Are you okay?" Dane asked, noticing my expression.
"Yeah, actually, for the first time in a few weeks, I am."
