Evan nodded. “Other than the container cutouts, nothing out of the ordinary as far as I could see. I’ll give them another look, though.” He added it to his list in his phone.
She wrote his name by the item and scribbledBarzani Worker Listsin the Leads column. “Since the warrant forced Malouf toturn over the information we needed on Barzani, I’ll meet with him in the morning. It would help if someone could review the printout of his shipments and the manifest tonight, so I know if there are any red flags to raise when I talk to him.”
Mack tightened his fingers on the can. “You’re planning on working Firuzeh’s murder investigation tonight?”
She nodded. “But if no one can review these files, I will, and Firuzeh’s evidence will have to wait.”
“I can do it,” Mack offered. “Did you let Eisenhower know you still have the evidence?”
“Not that Istillhave it, but I gave him a heads-up at the beginning.”
“You reported in today, right?”
“Yes, and the subject just didn’t come up,” she replied.
Mack shook his head but didn’t say anything, even though he looked like he wanted to. Evan was starting to get to know these guys, and he could almost imagine what Mack might say. Something to the effect that the evidence didn’t come up because she didn’t bring it up when she should have.
Evan didn’t chime in. He’d committed to help her look into the murder, and he was on her side. And while he was at it, he would do his best to help make sure she didn’t get into trouble with her supervisor.
She tapped the board with the marker. “Anything I’ve forgotten?”
“Not unless you want to talk about Firuzeh’s murder,” Mack said. “I assume you got a look at the murder board in the office.”
She nodded. “I took pictures of it and will review the details tonight after I process the evidence from her place.”
“You want help on that?” Sean asked.
“I’ve got it covered.”
Mack eyed her but didn’t speak, and neither did she.
She clapped her hands. “Okay, that’s it for now. Keep me updated on your other assignments.”
Everyone took out an electronic device of choice and got to work. Evan opened his laptop and queued up another video from Terminal 18. Analysts were reviewing video from other terminals too and would cover an entire month just to be sure they didn’t miss anything. He’d started this afternoon with the most current recording and reviewed the footage all the way back to Friday morning. He ran them at a faster than normal speed and paused when something caught his eye so he could get through them all without it taking days to complete.
A knock sounded on the door. Cam leapt to his feet and rushed across the room. The waiter rolled in a squeaky cart filled with metal dome warmers. Cam signed the receipt while Kiley lifted the domes and released the tantalizing smell of grilled burgers and onions.
Cam saw the waiter out, and they sat down to eat. Evan expected conversation during the meal. Not so. Everyone brought their device to the table and continued working. He grabbed a Coke and set his open laptop by his plate. He started the video running and chomped into his juicy burger. The flavors exploded in his mouth as the video time-stamped at eleven p.m. the prior Thursday started running.
Boring footage played of empty lanes leading out of the North Harbor area, which covered three terminals, including Terminal 18 where the container still sat. He leaned in for a seasoned fry when movement on the far side of the screen caught his attention. He slowed down the video and zoomed in on the hazy scene.
He dropped the fry and shot his hand up. “Got them!”
Kiley looked up. “What?”
“Two men. On foot at the Terminal 18 gate. Hightailing it off the property. Has to be our guys.”
Kiley dropped her chicken sandwich and rushed to stand behind him. He tapped the area on the screen she should focus on and forced himself to ignore her close proximity.
“Zoom in more,” she commanded.
He did. The image was grainy, and with the camera facing the entrance, it caught the men but only from behind. They wore American clothing—jeans, hoodies, sneakers—and had bulging backpacks hanging from their shoulders.
“Could be anyone,” she said.
“You’re right, it could be.” Evan didn’t understand her lack of excitement. “But at this terminal in the middle of the night? Leaving the place on foot? I’d put money on it being our guys.”
“C’mon. C’mon. C’mon. Turn around or glance back.” She clutched the back of Evan’s chair and shook it as if he could somehow make the men turn.
