"I'm so sorry," she replied. "Is that Mrs. Cooper?"
"No. That's Larry Russo's wife. He's in surgery. They don't know if he's going to make it. James's wife is sitting next to him—his body," she stuttered. "I can't believe what's happened."
Whitney was genuinely distraught, which made Kara want to believe her, but she also found it odd that Whitney would be so close to the spouse of one of the contractors, but that question was at the bottom of her list. She waved her hand to Tyler. "This is Agent Brennan. I'd like you to tell him what you told us earlier. Now that you've had a few minutes to catch your breath, you might remember more details."
"I already told you everything," Whitney said, sounding panicked. "I'm sorry. I need to go. I have to go back to work and tell everyone what happened to James. Later, okay?"
Before they could agree, Whitney was gone, practically running from the room.
Tyler met her gaze. "Okay, now I know why you doubt her story."
"Right? She could just be in shock, but…"
"It feels like more. Do you want to talk to Mrs. Russo?"
She glanced at the woman who was now on the phone to someone, her tears still flowing. "I don't think she can help us."
As her phone pinged with an incoming text, she pulled it out of her pocket. "It's Wes. The vehicle Max spotted is owned by Steve Kowalksi. He lives in Chelsea." She frowned. "He's seventy-four years old. That doesn't sound like the man who killed Jonas Cray."
"Well, Chelsea isn't far. Let's go check it out."
She drove across town, and while Chelsea wasn't far in miles, it took close to forty-five minutes to get through the traffic. Finally, just after six, they made their way up to the front door of Mr. Kowalski's home. When the door opened, the older man with white hair and weathered skin gave them a suspicious look.
Tyler introduced them and showed his badge, then asked him where his car was.
"I sold the car last month," he replied. "My wife doesn't like me driving anymore, and it's too damn expensive to buy gas."
"Who did you sell the car to?" she asked. "The registration is still in your name."
"The guy who bought it said he'd take care of it."
"Who was that?"
"I think his name was Cal. Yeah, that was it. Big, tall guy. Very nice, though. Gave me cash. Said he didn't want me to have to wait for a check to clear."
"How did Cal find you?" Tyler asked.
"My son put the car up on some social media site. I don't know which one. The next day, I had a buyer. It worked out great." He paused. "Why are you asking about my car?"
"The person who bought it is a potential witness in an investigation," Tyler returned. "Do you have his phone number?"
Mr. Kowalski thought for a moment. "No, I don't. I think my son did everything online. You could talk to him. He's in London right now, but I can give you his number."
"That would be helpful," she said.
"Hang on a second."
As he disappeared back into his apartment, she turned to Tyler. "I had a feeling we were going to hit a dead end. I hope the son has contact information."
Mr. Kowalski returned a moment later and gave them the number handwritten on a piece of paper. "Hope it helps," he said as he closed the door.
"It's after midnight in London," she said as they walked back to the car.
"Yeah. I'll work on this in the morning." Tyler paused when they reached her vehicle. "You don't need to take me back to the office. I'm meeting up with a friend of mine not far from here. I'll just hop on the subway."
"Are you sure I can't drop you somewhere?"
"With this traffic, the subway will be faster. I'll see you tomorrow." He smiled. "Hopefully not before then."
