The assistant got up, walked to the manager’s door, tapped lightly, stuck her head in for only a few seconds and promptly exited down the back hallway.
Perhaps it was lunchtime for the assistant. Good.
Wyatt marched over to the door with the plate that read, “Manager—Bert Barney.” He knocked so loudly that several people in the bank looked at them. Raphael stood with Wyatt as Bert Barney whipped the door open with what looked like a curse ready to fly from his lips.
One look at Wyatt and he mashed his lips closed before letting loose inappropriate words.
Barney cleared his throat. “Sheriff Campbell, how nice to see you. What can I do for you today?”
Wyatt pushed the door open and walked forward. Barney was forced to back up two steps to keep from colliding with him in the doorway. Raphael followed right behind, closing the door firmly behind them.
“Mr. Barney,” Wyatt said in an all-business tone. “I’ll come straight to the point. My sister-in-law, Francine, is missing. She was last seen across the street talking to someone in a car.”
“I’m sorry to hear that—”
“Thank you. What I really need is to look at the footage from your street ATM facing the truck stop.”
He turned to Raphael. “What is the time frame again, Raphael?”
Raphael didn’t miss a beat, reciting the ten-minute time frame they wanted to look at from last night. Wyatt knew the answer to his own question, but he clearly wanted Raphael to say it, perhaps to impress upon Barney that he was accompanied by someone who was not going to take no for an answer.
Fine by him.
Barney’s brows went from surprise to concern to deeply furrowed in the space of three seconds as he bounced his gaze between them. “Oh, that’s too bad…but I’m not certain I can help you with—”
Wyatt didn’t let him finish. “I disagree, Mr. Barney. From my perspective, you are theonlyperson who can help me find out who took my sister-in-law.” He sidestepped him and walked around Barney’s desk. “Is this your computer?”
“Yes, but—”
“Great,” Wyatt said and pointed at it. “Please bring up the street ATM surveillance video from last night at the time Raphael mentioned.”
Barney stood there with indecision practically oozing out of his pores before he moved to the executive chair behind his desk and seated himself to do exactly what Wyatt asked. Amazing.
The next time Raphael had to get information from a reluctant witness, he was bringing Wyatt with him to do the talking.
Raphael did his best arms crossed, angry bounty hunter stance as Barney’s fingers danced across his keyboard. Wyatt looked over the man’s shoulder, pointing to various things on the screen to help Barney go faster.
“There,” he said, indicating the car that pulled into the truck stop lot and inched forward as Francine walked across the empty asphalt toward the parking lot.
The ATM camera was pointed directly at the driver’s side of the car.
Wyatt said, “I recognize that car. And it makes complete sense.”
“Who is it?” Raphael asked, leaning closer to get a better look at the black-and-white surveillance film.
“Wheeler.”
On the video, the car backed up after Francine got inside the passenger side. They all watched as the driver’s face was clearly framed in the car window. ItwasWheeler.
The car stopped briefly, likely to change gears, and Wheeler’s features suddenly twisted brutally, becoming grossly unrecognizable before morphing into another familiar face.
“Oh, no,” Wyatt said.
“How did he do that?” Barney asked, staring wide eyed at the screen.
Raphael bit back a bad word, managing only barely to keep from saying it out loud. The car moved, turning in a half circle, and headed away from downtown Alienn.
As the car passed the ATM surveillance camera, they all saw Francine, eyes closed, slumped in the seat, one beautiful cheek pressed against the passenger window, clearly unconscious.
