“Any word on Badriddin Hilali?”
“Nothing,” he said. “The registration information was bogus. The address is a vacant lot. And interestingly enough, the name is that of a Persian poet. Not sure if this guy’s trying to say something by that, but I have a team researching it and trying to track down the box holder.”
“Of course it didn’t pan out,” Kiley said. “Would be too easy.”
“Indeed.” He took a long breath. “Still, I was able to obtain a warrant for the box, and we’re intercepting all incoming mail. Plus the staff knows to watch for this guy and call if anyone shows up to check the mailbox.”
“That’s all we can do then.”
“It is,” he said resolutely. “Harrison will gather any mail, and she knows to keep you updated.”
After promising to update him again in the morning, Kiley thanked him, ended the call, and passed on the information Eisenhower had shared.
Evan set down his phone. “I’ve put feelers out to my guys. Hopefully one of them knows something. What can I do next?”
She frowned. “I’m not sure. I need to regroup.”
He watched her, and she didn’t like his study because she couldn’t fathom what he was trying to figure out.
“No need to change our plans, right?” he asked. “Not when there isn’t any action you can take on these guys at the moment.”
“He’s right,” Sean said from the sofa. “The video doesn’t have anything actionable in it.”
Kiley didn’t want to let the lead go. She wanted to keep replaying the video to find something she could move on. But what was the point when the file revealed nothing? She had toquit wasting her time wishing for a lead and find one before it was too late.
“You’re both right. I’ll stick with my plan.” She grabbed a roll of white paper, masking tape, and a pair of latex gloves for Evan. “Clear the table and cover it with the paper.”
He followed directions as she placed her laptop on a nearby credenza to connect Firuzeh’s phone. As with computers, law enforcement didn’t directly access phones when at all possible. Just turning one on or waking it up could alter the evidence and call into question other files at a legal trial.
Her computer screen moved through prompts for imaging startup but skipped the field where Kiley would add Firuzeh’s password. “This is odd. Firuzeh didn’t have a password on her phone.”
Cam mocked a shudder. “I can’t even imagine going no password, but a lot of people don’t want the hassle.”
“Yeah, but with Firuzeh’s CI role, I would have thought she’d be extra careful,” Kiley said, a slurry of guilt starting to build in the pit of her stomach. “Maybe I should’ve told her to take better care.”
The others looked at her, their expressions mixed with sympathy and something else she couldn’t quite read.
Did she fail Firuzeh? Should Kiley have warned her CI to be more careful? Kiley had never worked with a CI before Firuzeh. Maybe she should’ve asked Sean or Mack for advice on how to handle the role, but until Firuzeh died, Kiley never believed her CI was in any danger. And now she was dead.
Kiley grabbed her can and chugged, trying to wash away the pain. At some point she would need to find time to be alone and cry. To release all of this guilt and anguish so she could start the process of moving on. But not now. Not when there was so much to do. She would have to simply fight the urges and fill each moment with work.
Searching the image of Firuzeh’s laptop was the next logicalstep, but Kiley wanted to be extra careful in preserving evidence for trial. No way she’d let a technicality allow Firuzeh’s killer to escape punishment. Making an image of the image would give her an unaltered copy for trial should she need it.
She started the copy running, then joined Evan at the table and took Firuzeh’s backpack from the large evidence bag. She removed textbooks and notebooks and slid the textbooks to Evan across the papered table. “Start with these. Look for anything with a terrorism connection.”
He didn’t question her but grabbed a basic algebra book and cracked it open, his attention focused and sharp, and Kiley was suddenly very thankful to have him here. Not a feeling she ever expected to experience again in relationship to Evan.
She grabbed a calculator and opened the battery compartment. Finding only batteries, she set it aside and dumped out a few pencils and pens. A ruler. Eraser. She twisted the pens open. Nothing unusual. She located a makeup bag holding mascara, blush, lipstick, and a powder compact. A quick roll up of the lipstick tube revealed the pale pink lipstick Firuzeh favored, and a twist of the mascara tube, a black wand.
Kiley dropped them back into the bag and reached for the compact. The case rattled. She quickly snapped it open to lift the puff. A shiny gold key rested in the empty powder area, and her heart rate ratcheted up. She displayed the key for Evan. “Found it hidden in her makeup.”
He turned the key around in his gloved fingers. “Looks like it could be for a locker or padlock.”
“The fact that she concealed the key makes it a promising lead.” Mack swiveled to look at them. “Maybe the place where she dances has lockers. It would be a perfect place to hide something.”
Kiley nodded. “Hopefully we’ll find dance studio information on her computer or phone.”
Mack looked across the room. “You’re making a copy of the computer image you took at her place?”
