Page 58 of In the Line of Ire

I calledGarrett to ask him what the new inquiries were. He hadn’t mentionedany earlier but maybe that was because he didn’t want to tellme.

"That'sjust what we tell the reporters," he said. "It's a realhead-scratcher, Lexi. We've got nothing. No fingerprints, no hairsor fibers, no defensive wounds, and no weapon."

"Youmust have something."

"Thebullet was a .22. Not in the system. It was a clean, swift kill.Almost professional, except I don't think it was done by aprofessional."

"Why doyou think that?"

"I can'tsee a professional cornering her at the mall. Way too risky. Myguys have gone over the security camera footage, what little thereis of it, and found nothing there either."

"Nothing?"

"Themall's security is crap. Some of the cameras don't even work andthe ones that cover that particular portion of the mall are sofuzzy, it's like watching TV snow. I'm going to chew the mall'smanager out over it."

"Couldthe killer have been aware of that?"

"It'spossible," agreed Garrett. "I gotta go. This case is not going tosolve itself. Watch your back, okay?"

"Sure."I hung up, disappointed at the news.

"Got thecamera," said Solomon. "I'm ready to go whenever youare."

"I'mready," I said, shutting my laptop and putting it away. "Let'sgo."

Weheaded downstairs and made our way to my car. Solomon climbed intothe passenger side, his knees bunching up a little in the confinedspace. "This isn't comfortable," he said. "Have you ever consideredbuying a roomier car?"

"Nope.This car hasn't outlived its usefulness yet," I said as I strokedthe dashboard. "Also, it's fully paid for and I appreciate it allthe more for that perk alone."

"Oneday," sighed Solomon. He pointed toward the bag at his feet andchanged the subject. "I can attach the camera to their internetfeed and have the images sent directly to the agency. My legs areprobably going to start cramping soon from sitting all day, so assoon as we're done here, I want to go for a walk or a run and getsome exercise."

I archedmy eyebrows.

"Notthat kind," he said. "It needs to be intense pounding."

I archedmy eyebrows as high as they could go.

"Again,not that kind of cardio," said Solomon but he smiled atme.

"Somemarriage this is," I grumbled as I threw the car intodrive.

Natalie's house had the empty, lifeless look vacant housesalways impart. No one walked the streets or trimmed the lawnsnearby. No children played and the only sounds were the ones thatcame from our own footsteps and the jingling keys Natalie gave tome.

"This isa nice place," said Solomon as we approached it.

"Theclient is nice too, she and her daughters. I don't know why someonewould want to scare them."

"Couldbe any number of reasons."

"That'swhat I'm afraid of, yet she doesn't appear to have any enemies, oran awful ex-husband, or own anything a person might be irrationallyjealous of. It’s so weird since she's just a hard-working, singlemom."

"That'senough for some people to get mad about."

I gavehim a skeptical look. "Is it?"

"Sure.Just seeing another person pull their life together and be happy isenough to irk some people."

"Peopleare so weird," I said.

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