The upscale eatery didn’t open until noon, so she texted the manager when she got there.
A woman opened the front door. “Can I see your identification?” Providence displayed her badge. “Thanks, Elaine. Come on in. We spoke on the phone. I’m Marcy.”
After they sat by a window, a waiter delivered two sparkling waters.
“I’m investigating Matt Hastings’s homicide,” Providence began. “And I’m hoping the security cams on your patio picked up something.”
“A detective stopped by yesterday about that. Why don’t you guys work together and save a little time?”
Crap, he’s one step ahead of me.“We each have our own investigation to run.”
“All right, well, I’m guessing you want to see the video, too.”
“Sure do.”
“The detective had a warrant. Do you have one?”
“I can get one and come back later, but you’d have to take time during the dinner rush to help me out. It’ll be easier if we do it now.”C’mon, don’t make this so damn difficult.
“You’ve got a point.” She brought Providence into her office, pulled up the video, and found the night in question.
At ten past four in the morning, one of the cameras picked up a sailboat motoring over to the pier. It stayed for a few minutes before powering away.
Providence peered at the screen. Though the pier was lit, the captain’s identity was concealed by a hoodie, cloaking his face in shadow. He moved to the rear of the boat, which was beyond the range of the camera. A few moments later, the boat pulled away and powered slowly up the river.
“Damn, the registration number is missing,” Providence said.
“Are you done?” Marcy asked.
Providence was about to tell her to stop the video when the boat cruised by in the opposite direction. This time, she spotted the shadowy registration number on the port side. “Pause it.”
“You can’t see anyone onboard,” Marcy quipped.
“That boat looks like it’s—what—thirty, thirty-five feet long?”
“No idea.”
“Rewind,” Providence said. “I’m looking for the registration number on the port side.”
After Marcy rewound the video, both women peered at the screen.
“Those first two letters look like VA to me,” Providence said.
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Nice find. The detective had me stop the video and he missed that.”
Providence might have edged out the detective with the registration number, but she was still trailing him by at least a day.
“Does that third digit look like a three or could it be an eight?” Providence asked.
“It’s too dark for me to make out any of the numbers,” Marcy replied. “Sorry.”
Providence wrote down what she thought was the registration number, along with every possible alternative. The last two digits were letters, but she couldn’t tell if the first one was a C or an O. And was that last one a T or an F?
“Are there any other surveillance cams that could have picked up that boat?” Providence asked.
“No. Of the three we’ve got, one is broken. The second is pointed at the tables, and you saw the third one.”
“Can you forward that to me?”
