The lighter-haired one had stopped in the lobby, and put his cell phone to his ear. The other, dark-haired one had walked backwards all the way to the elevator where he entered/exited the number two elevator.
Jake turned his focus on the man in the lobby, until he, too, walked to the elevators and went up, in his case riding in car number four. Jake switched to the interior footage from car four, and followed the man in reverse all the way up to the eighth floor. No feeds covered the upstairs hallways, so he couldn’t see which room the man went to.
“Here you go,” Parker said, setting something on the counter beside Jake’s elbow.
Looking down, Jake saw the promised glossy print of the two men outside the hotel entrance. There was a wide white border around the edges that almost gave it a retro feel.
“Thanks,” he said.
He returned his attention to the screen, then hit Play, watching in normal speed, forward motion this time. The light-haired man reentered the elevator on the eighth floor, then headed down. The car made three stops before it reached the lobby: on the sixth, fourth, and third floor.
Jake hit Pause again, scrolled back a few seconds, then let it play once more. When a man entered the car on the third floor, it looked like the light-haired man had given him a tiny nod. Jake played it a couple of times. The movement was so slight it was hard to tell.
The man who had just gotten on turned and faced the door. It could be they’d only recognized each other from when they were checking into the hotel. Then again, maybe it hadn’t been a nod at all. Just a tick, or even a glitch in the camera.
Jake continued forward.
It wasn’t until the dark-haired man entered the lobby from the number two elevator that Jake stopped again. He’d missed it before but now there was no mistaking it. The light-haired man and the dark-haired man had shared a look. Brief, yes, and most people who saw it would probably have dismissed it, but Jake saw it for what he was sure it was—a signal of some kind. The moment they looked away from each other, the light-haired man put his phone in his pocket and headed for the door. The dark-haired man had then headed in the same direction, a few feet behind him.
Okay, Jake thought. There’s a connection between the men, but absolutely no connection to the murder out on Goodman Ranch Road. They could be anybody.
Then his fingers reached out and slammed the Pause key.
The dark-haired man had slowed next to a table, his hand hovering over a bowl filled with matchbooks.
A tingling feeling ran across Jake’s shoulders.
He scrolled forward, frame by frame. The man’s hand inched downward, first touching the stack of blue booklets, then picking one up and slipping it in his pocket.
Jake stared at the screen, no longer seeing the image it held.
He knew this still didn’t prove a damn thing. Dozens of people must have taken matchbooks from that bowl every day. That, and the fact Jake’s interest in the man was based on no more than a feeling , made it all the more unlikely. Yet, he continued to have a sense that the men were…were…
Different.
That was it. There was something about them that set them off from others. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what that difference was, but he knew it was there.
He finished watching the men exit the hotel. There were no more causes to pause, no more what-the-hell moments.
He checked his watch and was surprised to see he only had a half hour to get to the substation. Where had all the time gone?
He was about to thank Parker and tell him he was done when he remembered the man who’d entered the elevator on the third floor. He knew his sense about this man was even weaker than his feelings about the other two, but it was best to play it safe.
He found the appropriate footage of the man exiting the building a few minutes before the other two did, and paused the picture. The guy was probably in his early forties, in decent
Jake turned his focus on the man in the lobby, until he, too, walked to the elevators and went up, in his case riding in car number four. Jake switched to the interior footage from car four, and followed the man in reverse all the way up to the eighth floor. No feeds covered the upstairs hallways, so he couldn’t see which room the man went to.
“Here you go,” Parker said, setting something on the counter beside Jake’s elbow.
Looking down, Jake saw the promised glossy print of the two men outside the hotel entrance. There was a wide white border around the edges that almost gave it a retro feel.
“Thanks,” he said.
He returned his attention to the screen, then hit Play, watching in normal speed, forward motion this time. The light-haired man reentered the elevator on the eighth floor, then headed down. The car made three stops before it reached the lobby: on the sixth, fourth, and third floor.
Jake hit Pause again, scrolled back a few seconds, then let it play once more. When a man entered the car on the third floor, it looked like the light-haired man had given him a tiny nod. Jake played it a couple of times. The movement was so slight it was hard to tell.
The man who had just gotten on turned and faced the door. It could be they’d only recognized each other from when they were checking into the hotel. Then again, maybe it hadn’t been a nod at all. Just a tick, or even a glitch in the camera.
Jake continued forward.
It wasn’t until the dark-haired man entered the lobby from the number two elevator that Jake stopped again. He’d missed it before but now there was no mistaking it. The light-haired man and the dark-haired man had shared a look. Brief, yes, and most people who saw it would probably have dismissed it, but Jake saw it for what he was sure it was—a signal of some kind. The moment they looked away from each other, the light-haired man put his phone in his pocket and headed for the door. The dark-haired man had then headed in the same direction, a few feet behind him.
Okay, Jake thought. There’s a connection between the men, but absolutely no connection to the murder out on Goodman Ranch Road. They could be anybody.
Then his fingers reached out and slammed the Pause key.
The dark-haired man had slowed next to a table, his hand hovering over a bowl filled with matchbooks.
A tingling feeling ran across Jake’s shoulders.
He scrolled forward, frame by frame. The man’s hand inched downward, first touching the stack of blue booklets, then picking one up and slipping it in his pocket.
Jake stared at the screen, no longer seeing the image it held.
He knew this still didn’t prove a damn thing. Dozens of people must have taken matchbooks from that bowl every day. That, and the fact Jake’s interest in the man was based on no more than a feeling , made it all the more unlikely. Yet, he continued to have a sense that the men were…were…
Different.
That was it. There was something about them that set them off from others. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what that difference was, but he knew it was there.
He finished watching the men exit the hotel. There were no more causes to pause, no more what-the-hell moments.
He checked his watch and was surprised to see he only had a half hour to get to the substation. Where had all the time gone?
He was about to thank Parker and tell him he was done when he remembered the man who’d entered the elevator on the third floor. He knew his sense about this man was even weaker than his feelings about the other two, but it was best to play it safe.
He found the appropriate footage of the man exiting the building a few minutes before the other two did, and paused the picture. The guy was probably in his early forties, in decent
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