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“Evander.”
“Hey, Ev. Got those prints for you,” says the man I was just thinking about.
I slow the feed so I can watch and listen to Paul at the same time. “Anything jump out?”
“You mean, aside from the fact that the girl was a neat freak?”
“What?”
“There should have been dozens of prints in that place. You know what goes down over there, and they won’t be winning any housekeeping awards anytime soon. So, imagine my surprise when I only pulled six sets of prints. One of which belongs to Damon Denton.”
“Damon Denton? Why does that name ring a bell?”
“Local pimp and dealer who has recently been dabbling in producing porn.”
“What the fuck? He was in her room?”
“Likely before your girl was ever renting it. His prints were lifted from the air vent and the mirror. He runs his girls out of a few of those rooms. And I can confirm that he was in county lockup from the day before Avery was shot until lunchtime today. He had nothing to do with her leaving, not unless he had someone else grab her. But honestly, Ev, that’s not this guy’s MO. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s smart enough to know he’s not. He won’t employ men smarter than he is. He likes to be the big man on campus, if you like, so he wouldn’t have sent someone in after Avery. Not someone smart enough to not leave prints and clean up the crime scene afterward, at least. He employs thugs, that’s it.”
“How do you know the other prints don’t belong to one of his men?” I ask, looking at the video as a figure approaches Avery’s car. A very familiar figure.
“Because one set belongs to Avery herself.”
I listen to him as Creed climbs into Avery’s car and reverses out of the parking spot.
“And the other sets belong to you and your men.”
My eyes close in frustration. “Creed and Hawk?”
“Do they also go by Thomas Creed and Daniel Michaels or Greg—”
“Yeah, that’s them.”
“Except for Damon, nobody but Apex went into that room, according to the prints. And if they did, they wore gloves. Nobody wears fucking gloves in a motel, Ev, unless they’re in the system and want to hide who they are. I don’t like to speculate, but either your girl took off on her own or she has a professional on her. I’ll follow up with Damon, but like I said, I doubt he knows anything. I’ll keep you posted, though.”
“Thanks, Paul.”
I hang up and pause the video of the car disappearing from view of the diner’s camera. Neither Creed’s nor Hawk’s prints should have been in that room. Even if they figured out which car was Avery’s and decided to return it while she was in the hospital, there would be no reason for them to be in her room. Given their current relationship, Avery would never have given them her key. She sure as hell wouldn’t have asked them to grab things for her. Besides, in the feed I pulled of her leaving the hospital, she was wearing hospital scrubs.
Standing up, I grab my laptop and keys before jogging downstairs. Greg’s in the kitchen when I walk in. He takes one look at me, puts down the cup he was drinking from, and walks toward me. “What’s wrong?”
James, who’s sitting on the sofa in the living room, looks over.
“One of the sets of prints in Avery’s motel room belongs to a pimp named Damon Denton. The guy’s involved in the porn industry. He was apparently in lockup when Avery disappeared, however, so I don’t think he’s involved. But his prints were found on the scene, so it’s worth checking out.”
James gets up and joins us. “Do you know where his prints were found?”
“The mirror and the air vents. Why?”
James and Greg look at each other before James answers. “Both are places where small, unnoticeable cameras could be hidden.”
“Son of a bitch. You think he was making videos of Avery without her knowing? With, what, the intent to upload them to a porn site?”
“It happens more than you think. Women being filmed getting changed or masturbating, thinking they are alone and safe. There’s a market for everything out there,” James tells me.
“Want me to go talk to this guy?” Greg asks.
“Yeah. My police contact says he’s going to follow up, but I’d rather you got there first. See if he knows anything.”
