Page 9 of The Hanging Dolls
“I looked into the registered sex offenders. But I don’t know how many closeted ones are hiding in plain sight.” Something in his own words disturbed him.
“What?”
A look of horror flashed across his face. “I just realized I might have come across whoever did this, maybe even exchanged words. It’s a small town, everyone knows everyone.”
Zoe cleared her throat. Behind her was the entrance to an apartment building and next to it a little coffee shop. “It might not necessarily be a townie like Aiden suggested. Did you check for surveillance in there?”
“Yeah, the café’s camera was set to stream so does not record, and the apartment building’s camera faces the building—not the street.”
Zoe rolled up the map and tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she noticed something about the building.
“What do you see?” He saw the look on her face.
She hurried over to the building without replying. She threw a swift glance around the street. There was no one lurking around. Overhead, the clouds were beginning to circle. It was about to pouragain.
She swung open the exterior door and entered the vestibule. The camera faced the interior door, not the exterior.
“See? It doesn’t offer a view of the street,” Scott said.
“No. It faces the interior door. Which is made ofmirrored glass.”
Realization dawned and he squeezed his eyes close. “Damn. Reflection. All right. Let’s see what they have.”
He banged on the inner door until the security guard who was busy scrolling on his phone and bobbing his head to music suddenly looked up. With a scowl, the guard pressed a buttonto open the door. When Scott flashed his badge, his demeanor shifted and he wriggled on his squeaky chair.
“This is my associate from the FBI, Zoe Storm,” Scott said sternly. “Do you keep recordings of the security camera over there?”
“Yes.” He blinked wildly. “Why? What’s happened?”
“How long do you keep them for?”
“Two weeks.”
“We need to see the recording for the evening of October 3. Right now.” He placed an elbow on the reception desk.
“I… Maybe I should call my manag—” His hand hovered over the phone when Scott interrupted.
“This is regarding the disappearance of Lily Baker.”
The security guard’s face fell. His eyebrows pulled together and he nodded. “Of course. Follow me through to the back.”
Zoe and Scott exchanged a satisfied look. The guard led them to a dimly lit room with two monitors and a stack of files on a steel rack. He sat down at a computer and pulled up a file from the date. “Here you go. You can fast-forward or rewind it.” He wheeled himself out of the way.
Scott fast-forwarded the video to 4:30 p.m. and hit play. One corner of the parked ice cream truck was visible in the reflection. Zoe waited for a glimpse of the little girl and a few minutes later, she spotted Lily holding her sister’s hand.
Zoe held her breath—she didn’t know what to expect, what they would discover—but watching Lily in action, giggling and frolicking, thickened the saliva in her throat. While Bella, her teenage sister, searched for cash in her purse, Lily left her side.
They watched her run to the street, reaching the edge of the camera’s view, where only the trunk and taillights of a black car were visible.
Zoe held her breath. Within seconds, the car rolled away and Lily had vanished.
“Did she get in the car?” Scott said, his eyebrows pulling together.
“Possibly. We only have a partial view. But this means that she knew who it was. She willingly went to them.”
Scott kept replaying the video and clicked his tongue. “Damn it. It’s a reflection so the quality isn’t good enough to read the license plate. Wait, the FBI has software that can help, right?”
“The FBI has got everything,” Zoe boasted. “Let’s get a copy of this and I’ll send it over to my guys.”
