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“Within two days?” she spat. “We’re supposed to spin while he does God-knows-what to her?”
“No. We use this time to find her and bring her home.”
It wasn’t like they hadn’t been trying that all along, but Amanda kept her mouth shut. With every passing hour, a happy outcome became more elusive.
“Where are things with Lowell Mooney?” Malone asked.
“Hitting a wall.” Amanda told him where they were, how they wanted to get his phone records and check with the motel staff.
“Not sure there is enough to get the warrant on his phone.”
“I was afraid you might say that,” she said.
“I can see about getting officers over to Sunny Motel to inquire about the van.”
“That would be great.” She and Trent could do it, but they had other work ahead of them.
“Keep your chins up.” Malone turned to walk away, but she called out.
“Before you leave, have we had any luck tracking the phone behind the ransom request?”
He shook his head and retreated down the hall.
“Just one dead end after the next,” she vented.
“There has to be something in front of us we’re missing.”
Her partner—the beacon of hope. “We do have Katherine’s phone and GPS records, and we haven’t had a chance to look at either.”
“Very true. Both fell to the side. Along with the mystery key from her office drawer. We were going to check if the GPS history would give us a clue where that belongs.”
“It’s hard to believe it was just yesterday we found that. It feels much longer ago.” The same time period must have been an eternity for Katherine.
“As they say, no time like the present.” Trent gestured to his computer, the implication being the GPS tracking.
“You do that. I’m taking a quick look at her phone records.” She did that for the next several minutes, but nothing flagged.
“You’ll want to see this.” Trent popped his head over the divider.
She joined him in his cubicle.
“Look.” He motioned toward his screen where the GPS log from the Mercedes was on display. He pointed to one line, then another, and another. They had the same coordinates on different days, at different times.
“Where is that?”
Trent keyed into an internet search window. The result came back, and he said, “You don’t think that…?”
“I do. Let’s move.”
FORTY-SEVEN
The GPS coordinates led them to U-Store-It. They rented out storage units of various sizes with roll-up doors. A blinking neon light in the window advertised they were open twenty-four hours a day.
A man in his fifties was behind the counter, and Amanda took out her badge. “Detective Steele, and this is Detective Stenson. Does this look like a key that would belong to one of your units?” She gestured toward Trent, who held up the key she had found in Katherine’s drawer.
“It could be. It’s about the right size.”
“Do you show a record of renting to a Katherine Graves?” she asked him.
