“No. No. We didn’t cover up anything.” He rubbed a hand over his face.
“Then why the attorney?”
“It’s sensitive, like I said, but it has nothing to do with Lewis. I swear.”
Whenever someone addedI swear, Ian figured they were lying. He locked his gaze on the man. “Then get that appointment set and don’t string me along. We need to do this sooner than later.”
Newton gave a sharp nod and escorted Ian to the reception area. He said a hasty goodbye and fled back to his office. Ian had obviously rattled the man, but that didn’t mean he had anything to do with murder. In fact, Ian wasn’t liking him for it at all. The guy didn’t react like a killer might when he was outed for a crime he thought he’d gotten away with for over twenty years. He did, however, act guilty when it came to the drywall.
Ian stepped into the brisk October day, the wind blowing multi-colored leaves across the parking lot. He’d no sooner settled behind the steering wheel when his phone rang. Seeing a call from Londyn, he eagerly answered.
“Searched ViCAP,” Londyn said. “I found something interesting regarding a drone, but don’t know if it’s related.”
“Go ahead,” Ian said, his interest piqued.
“A ten-year-old girl who was walking home from school says she was followed by a drone all the way home on Thursday. She just told her parents about it, and they called the police. The detective posted it in case someone was stalking children with this drone.”
Ian’s lead radar started pinging, and he hoped she fit the studies today showing the average ten-year-old had a cell phone. “Tell me she got a picture of the drone.”
“She did.”
“Send it to me. I’ll hang on while you do.”
He tapped his foot and waited until he heard the ding then looked at the photo. “It matches the one that delivered Malone’s package.”
“Really?” Londyn asked. “I don’t know much about drones, but I’ve never seen one like this one. Doesn’t mean it was Olivo’s drone that followed the girl. We’ve seen no sign he’s into young girls.”
Ian cranked his car engine. “True, but since the drones match, it’s worth interviewing the girl.”
“Agreed.”
“Young girls often do better with female officers,” Ian said. “I want you in on the interview.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
“I’ll pick you up at the office, and we can head over there.” Ian shifted into gear and offered a prayer as he flew out of the parking lot toward what he hoped was the lead that set his gut burning with hope.
14
The large two-story Tudor house where the girl, Nicole Thompson, lived was located in one of Portland’s most affluent neighborhoods. And the home’s inside décor spoke to the opulence he’d expected to find.
Nicole stood next to her mother, Ruth, who just finished introducing herself in their entryway that sported a soaring ceiling. The child had dishwater-blond hair woven in braids, and it was windblown as if she’d been outside playing before they arrived. Her powder-blue eyes were dimmed with worry, and she held her mother’s hand and looked up at Ian and Londyn.
“I’m Londyn.” She stepped forward and squatted to eye-level with the girl. “You look a little worried, but don’t be. I’m a regular person like your mom here. No big deal. I only have a few questions. You think you’re up to that?”
“Yeah.” Nicole bit her lip.
“Sometimes if you’re in the place you like best in the world, it’s easier to talk. Is that your room? Or outside?”
“My treehouse.” A half smile quirked up her lips.
“Do you want to go out there to talk?”
She nodded and looked up at her mom, who nodded too.
“Is there enough room up there for your mom and this big oaf I brought with me?” Londyn asked.
Nicole giggled. “I think so. At least me and all my friends fit.”
