Page 65 of Run for Her Life
She snorted without humor and crossed her arms. “I knew.”
“About Jackie?”
“No…” She licked her lips. “About Jim having an affair. I found a woman’s scarf at home. Red with blue border. It’s imprinted in my brain.”
“You didn’t confront him?”
She lolled her head. “I think I was trying to pretend it wasn’t happening for as long as I could. But anyway, I’d like to focus on work.”
“Of course.”
Lisa slid a piece of paper in front of her. “Just got back Adam’s financials. We had probable cause since his dog’s hair was found at a crime scene. Look at that.” She tapped her finger on the highlighted deposits into Adam’s account for the last two weeks. “Since the first disappearance, someone’s been wiring him money. And it’s not his employer.”
“Can you contact the bank for more information on the sender?”
“Already did.” She hooked her thumbs into the buckles of her belt. “They’re looking into it.”
Lisa’s face had grown gaunt. Her complexion pale. There was always a strain on her face, like she was constantly fighting tears. Zoe racked her brain for words of comfort when Lisa cleared her throat. “What’s that?”
“The hunting dart that was used on the victims. I just searched it online but I can’t find anything quite like it. It has this pattern on the tip that is unique.”
Lisa looked closer. “It might be local.”
“Is there a place in town?”
“Yeah, Hollow Point Outfitters. They sell a lot of outdoor and gaming gear. If it’s not a major retailer, then I can’t think of anything else.” Zoe was already grabbing her coat. “Agent Storm! The owner doesn’t like people. Especially cops.”
Zoe beamed. “Good thing I’m such a charmer.”
The bell above the door jingled as Zoe stepped inside, shaking the rain from her coat. The shop smelled like leather, gun oil, and sawdust. A hunter’s paradise, stocked with weapons, camouflage, and everything needed to kill something big.
Rows of rifles, crossbows, and hunting knives lined the walls. Mounted deer heads stared blankly from above, their glass eyes frozen in permanent shock. A deep horror seized Zoe. She understood the thrill of the hunt but couldn’t fathom staring at a dead creature hanging on a wall.
At the counter, a woman in her mid-forties, auburn hair tied back, was counting inventory when she saw Zoe. Her expression shifted immediately. Mild irritation curdled into distrust.
“Unless you’re here to buy something,” she said, not looking up again, “we’re closed.”
“How do you get customers with that attitude?” She couldn’t help herself. When the woman sneered, ready to retort, Zoe dropped her badge on the counter between them.
“We’re licensed.” The woman’s voice was sharp.
“I didn’t doubt that.” She showed her a picture of the dart. “You sell these?”
Her eyes flicked to it. A half-second hesitation. “Yeah,” she admitted. “Not to just anyone, though. That’s restricted stock.”
“So you’ll know who has bought these?”
Her shoulders tensed. “Let me check.” She pulled out a register and flipped through the pages. “In the last six months, just one. Jackie Fink. She paid in cash.” Her startled eyes looked up. “Isn’t that the woman in the news? The dead one?”
“Was she alone?” Zoe said, ignoring the question.
The woman hesitated. “Yeah. But she took a call while I was ringing it up. Seemed agitated.”
Zoe’s pulse kicked up a notch. “Did you hear a name? What were they talking about?”
The woman’s face scrunched as she tried to recall. “It was a man, for sure. But I was busy with some other customer too, so I didn’t pay attention to what they were arguing about.” Then she snapped her fingers. “Spector!”
Zoe’s breath hitched. “Spector?”
