Page 64 of Devil's Marker

Catcher had also changed. He was wearing a white short-sleeved tee and jeans, leaning back in his desk chair with his hands behind his head, watching people come and go at the front entrance of Night Flight.

“Hey,” he said when Win walked in and pulled up a chair.

“Hey.” Win set down the large coffee he’d promised himself. He’d stopped in the kitchen and brewed it before being delayed by Boss. “What you got?”

“Well, nothin’ so far really. I skipped ahead to eleven o’clock because we know that all three of them were still there then. We know they were gone before one. So that just leaves two hours to review. I’ve already been through the first forty-five minutes.”

“Hold on. Is that Robin?”

Win was looking at Robin laughing with the guy in the hat and leaning against him suggestively.

“Sure is.”

They watched the valet parker pull a black Mercedes up the curved driveway and bring it to a stop right in front of Robin and her catch. The building that housed Night Flight had once been a small hotel with a pull-in drive for check-in and taxis. The guy opened the passenger door.

“Wait a minute,” Win said. “Arcy told me Robin drove. That her car?”

Robin clearly hesitated and that was followed by a discussion about who was going to drive. After a minute or so of talk with her hand on her hip, she apparently gave in and got in on the passenger side.

Catcher’s arms came away from behind his head as his eyes slid to Win. “Not sure. Why? That important?”

“I don’t know. Can you run this back?”

“You know I can.”

Catcher reversed the video to where Robin and her cowboy came through the door. Robin handed the valet the claim check.

“Yep. Her car,” Catcher said. “What’s wrong?”

“I got that feelin’. Let’s go back to them comin’ out of the club and slow it down.”

Going frame by frame they began looking for something even though they didn’t know what. Until Catcher stood up so fast his office chair careened across the tile floor and crashed into the counter on the opposite wall.

“SHIT!”

“What?” Win asked, starting to feel the cold and unpleasant chill of adrenaline.

“Shit!” Catcher repeated. “Look at this.”

He grabbed the chair, sat down quickly and backed the video up to the frame where Robin had handed her claim check to the valet parker. At that same moment the cowboy had tipped his face up toward the camera.

Catcher isolated the face, zoomed in and then split the screen on his monitor. With lightning fast speed, he clicked through the photos of the S&B members he’d believed were candidates for possibly being hunters and stopped on one.

The guy on the right side of the screen had a three-inch beard and scruffy hair over his ears. The cowboy on the left was clean shaven with short hair. But it was him. It was definitely him.

“We missed him,” Win almost whispered.

“YES! SHIT!” Catcher repeated. “Zip…”

“I know. I’m gonna go next door and talk to Boss.”

Win didn’t wait for a response, he walked the few feet down the hallway that separated the two rooms. Boss’s door was still open.

“Boss?”

“Yeah?” The big man answered, looking more his age every hour.

“Got bad news.”

---