Page 57 of Valor

So, they were opposed in other ways too. Not that the other church believed much differently than he did, but churches seemed to almost have rivalries. “Has your family always gone there?” He took a bite of his pizza.

She nodded as a string of cheese grew from her mouth to her slice. She laughed as she tugged it free of the pizza. “Yeah. Mom decided and Dad went along with her decision. I was a kid, so I went where I was told to go. Now, it’s hard. So many of my memories of Mom have to do with that church.”

He’d never known his mother and his father had always hidden who she was from Allen. Now he knew why, but he wasn’t about to share that information. “I go to the other,” was the only response that made any sense.

An uncomfortable silence spread over them until both had eaten. As soon as he’d cleared the table, he invited Heather to bring her laptop over with the book of thumb drives. She eagerly went to the sofa and riffled through her bag.

“I’m glad I had this with me. I rarely take my computer, since I don’t do any photo editing until I’m home. There was time to relax before and after the shoot, so I listened to some podcasts. That was easier on my computer,” she explained as she opened her laptop case.

He nodded and reached for the binder. “Mind if I look?” He had a pretty good handle on the names of local criminals, few as there were. If any of those names were listed, he’d have a place to start.

“Sure, there’s nothing secret about hiring a photographer, so I don’t feel like I’m breaching anyone’s privacy.” Her brows bunched together. “I’m not sure if they meant my hard drive, a thumb drive, or the drive that holds all my photo memory.” She tapped her chin. “There are almost too many options.”

She turned the computer around to let him have a look. “If you want to take over, you can. I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

He glanced down at everything in front of him. It was going to be a long night. “If you like coffee, hit the brew button on my coffee pot. I leave it set up for the morning, so pressing a button is all I have to think about. We might be looking at a lot of stuff in the next few hours.”

A smile broke over his face as he heard rather than saw her cross the room. He’d always been able to drink coffee late into the night, but he’d never met anyone else outside of law enforcement who could. Maybe Heather was more like him than she would admit.

CHAPTERTHREE

After an hourof looking through files, Allen offered Heather another slice of pizza. She declined as her brow furrowed.

“I’ve looked through more than thirty of these drives, and nothing looks out of the ordinary. All I have to show for my time is a sore back from hunching over.” She closed her laptop and stretched.

His first inclination was to change the subject and possibly find out how much she knew about his father, which would be the only thing her father would hold against him. Dad was literally the only skeleton in his closet, at least, that he’d been able to find.

The fatigue painted shadows on her usually cheerful face, so he held his tongue. Trust had to be earned. She would share with him once she trusted him. She’d said she didn’t know, so maybe he was jumping to conclusions. It wasn’t like they’d become good friends over the course of this case. With her father’s distrust and dislike, they probably wouldn’t even be cordial after they found him.

He headed to the sofa and grabbed the remote to turn on the television. The house was far too quiet. Some noise would help break the tension and give them something to talk about other than pizza and her father. The ten o’clock news blared to life and images of two men splashed across the screen.

The correspondent spoke to the audience, “Two men were murdered in Rapid City, South Dakota. They were found within a block of the Police Department. Police are asking for your assistance. If you recognize either of these two men, please contact the Rapid City Police department at?—”

“I know them,” Heather’s voice shook as she stared, open-mouthed, at the screen.

He waited to see if she said more. Every hint of the pink tinge to her cheeks had evaporated like snow in spring.

“What do you mean? Like, you know who they are or were they were good friends of yours?” His police training kicked in.

She shook her head and seemed to recall she was there with him. “I took pictures of them in the Badlands. They acted strange, like they wouldn’t smile, and they crowded around us afterward to look at the pictures. When they offered to take a shot of us in return, I almost said no because of how odd they were. The only reason I really remember is because, while the one was taking a shot using my phone, the other took a picture of us with his. I assumed it was to say something on social media about the nice people who offered to help them, especially since they asked for my business card. I thought it might be good for business. There was never a tag on any socials, so I figured they changed their minds.”

His thoughts whirred with possibilities and none of them were good. “Unless they gave you something without your knowledge and took your picture so they could find you again later, but never got that far.”

If possible, her face paled even more. “And now they’re dead. So, whoever found their phone is after me.”

He nodded because the police would know who they were if they’d been found with their phones. “That makes the most sense. If the victim’s phones were missing, then IDing the bodies is harder. The police would start with a Driver’s License, but a phone is nearly as handy in finding out who someone is and who their relatives are.” Which meant her picture was probably one of the last things these two men had on their camera roll before someone—probably the killer—took them.

“What could they have hidden on me?” She looked around her as if she would have inspiration by looking at things in his house.

“A thumb drive. They wanted a drive. It’s what they asked for in the note. What did you have with you that day?” If he had to guess, it would be in her purse or camera bag. Women’s purses were notoriously full of things. Noticing a random, tiny thumb drive would be unlikely.

She turned toward her bags on the sofa. “I only carried my camera case with me. I’ve never had my purse stolen, but when I’m distracted by getting the right light and filter for a shot, I’m not thinking about my purse. So, I don’t bring it.”

Smart woman. He nodded toward the sofa, inviting her to get the bag. He would not touch her personal belongings unless she asked him to. She rushed over and gently took the camera and lenses out, then dumped the remaining contents on the table beside the couch. Lamplight bathed the random items in a soft glow. There were lip glosses, pens, a few slips of paper, a few crumpled receipts, and six thumb drives. One stood out, though, as she clearly used the same brand for business use. The odd one was gray and shaped differently.

Heather picked it up and looked at it. “What do you think is on here? It’s not mine.”

He wished she hadn’t touched it as he pulled an evidence bag from his uniform pocket and breathed deeply.

---