Page 221 of Faking the Goal

The small spark of hope I'd been nurturing quietly fizzles.

"And... the security camera?"

Matthews gives a sympathetic nod. "We examined the SD card Mr. Azuma turned over."

I instinctively squeeze Kentaro's hand tighter.

"The recording around the estimated time of the break-in was badly corrupted. Most of what we recovered was digital interference. We can't say yet whether somebody deliberately tampered with the camera or whether the recording failed for another reason, but there wasn't enough intact footage to identify anyone."

I stare at the table. "So... we're back to square one."

"Not exactly."

He reaches into the folder and slides several printed photographs across the table toward us.

"We widened the search beyond your apartment building and pulled surveillance footage from several nearby businesses."

Kentaro and I both lean forward.

The first photograph shows the sidewalk outside my apartment complex. Another catches part of the entrance gate.

Then I see the third.

A tall man dressed entirely in black, his hood pulled low over his head and the lower half of his face covered. Gloves hide his hands. There isn't a single visible feature I could use to identify him.

"This individual was captured entering the complex approximately twenty-three minutes before we believe the break-in occurred," Matthews says, tapping the first photograph before moving to the next. "He was recorded leaving thirty-six minutes later."

My eyes stay fixed on the dark figure.

"We can't say with absolute certainty that he's the person who entered your apartment," Matthews continues. "But the timing is significant. We also didn't identify any other unknown person entering or leaving the complex during that window, so he's someone we're taking a very close look at."

He nudges the photographs toward us.

"Look carefully. Do either of you recognize anything? His height, build, the way he walks, the way he carries himself. Anything that feels familiar."

Kentaro studies each photograph for several long seconds before slowly shaking his head.

"I can't tell."

I look even harder, willing the blurry silhouette to become someone I recognize.

Nothing.

He could be anybody.

"He's... big," I murmur. "Probably around six feet. Maybe a little over."

"That's our estimate too."

I let out a defeated breath. "It could literally be anyone."

The words leave my mouth before another thought follows.

"My ex... Kirk. He's around that height too."

Matthews nods once, almost as if he'd expected the question. "I figured you'd ask about him."

My entire body straightens. "So... was it him?"