“Yes. That’s what I thought I saw when he whizzed past me. Did he bring it along to fool us?”
“Not sure what he was thinking, but check the pockets,” she told him.
He rummaged through each one—it took a few moments since the jacket was blessed with at least six pockets that she could see, not counting the inner ones—and pulled out a very incriminating-looking plastic baggie.
At first she assumed it contained drugs, but when she took a closer look, she saw that it held a piece of paper that had been folded up many times over until it was a small square. The baggie was made from a thick plastic that was clearly trying to protect the scrap of paper.
“Go ahead,” she urged him. “Unfold it.”
“But isn’t it evidence? Shouldn’t we dust it for fingerprints or something?”
“Right now, we need to find Jessie. Here, I’ll do it.”
He handed her the bag, holding it carefully between two fingers. Minimizing her own contact with the baggie, she pried it open and gently retrieved the folded piece of paper.
It had been creased and manipulated, folded and unfolded so many times that it was practically falling apart. “Someone has referred to this many times,” she said, as she spread it open. “God knows why.”
The paper contained nothing but squiggly lines that scurried across the page as if they’d been left by a manic mouse. There wasn’t a straight line to be found, just curves and deep indentations and protrusions. It was all one line, she saw, as she looked more closely. It started at one end of the page and ended at the other, but all the detours and wandering covered a good half of the surface of the paper.
“What is it?” Jack stared at the black ink drawing. He pointed at a smudge in one corner of the page. “I think it’s a copy. Like a Xerox.”
“You’re right.” She nodded in agreement. “It almost looks like the original was drawn in pen and ink, the old-fashioned kind. See these brush marks?”
“So it’s a piece of artwork? Calligraphy gone mad?”
She snapped some photos of it, then carefully folded it up and sealed the baggie. “Let’s find his other car.”
“How are we going to do that?”
“Watch and learn.” She winked at him, happy to see that his mood had lifted now that he’d found Jessie’s coat. He kept it with him, holding tight to it as they crossed the parking lot and headed for the bank branch she’d noticed as she chased Seth down the sidewalk. She pegged it as the most likely to have security cameras aimed at the parking lot.
A flash of her badge got her into the security office, where a guard showed her how to access the last hour’s footage on their computer system.
“Have I ever mentioned how much I love the digital age?” she murmured to Jack. “I’d hate to be a detective back in the era of VCRs. Can you believe you had to just watch a tape roll and press a big bulky pause button to rewind? I know, champagne problems.”
She went back about half an hour and they both watched intently as cars came in and out of the lot.
“What are we looking for?” Jack asked.
“A car that isn’t going anywhere. The staffers all have spots in the employee section here.” She pointed it out. “Everyone else is a visitor, and all these stores are high-traffic.”
They reached the moment when Seth ran in front of the Volvo. She paused there and traced a direct line on the monitor that would have been Seth’s route if the Volvo hadn’t slammed into him. “That Saab, maybe? Or the Toyota Tercel behind it?”
She let the tape play in fast forward, keeping an eye on the two cars in Seth’s direct path. For the next fifteen minutes, neither of the cars moved. Then a mother and her toddler got into the Saab and pulled away. The Toyota still hadn’t budged.
“I think that might be our target. Let’s go take a look.”
They emerged into a sprinkle of rain, which quickly picked up into a steady drizzle as they hurried toward the Tercel. “Would Celine really leave such an unglamorous car for him? That Tercel has to be fifteen years old.”
“If you’re trying to stay off the radar, older cars are better. The fewer electronics, the fewer chances to leave traces behind. I know of one case where the police were able to pull up the suspect’s home destination on their car’s navigation system.”
“I wish we could get that lucky.”
“Same. But we won’t.”
They reached the Tercel, which was the most generic possible gray color. A car like this would never be noticed by most people. Perfect for someone trying to lay low. She peered through the window and saw the key tucked into the nook in the dashboard.
“Ready to break and enter?” she said lightly.
