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“Too early to know where we’ll be with the investigation by that point,” Amanda started. “But keep us posted on any urgent finds. As for the slugs or bullet fragments—” She stopped talking at the appearance of a smile on the ME’s face. She arched her eyebrows.
“I know the job, Detective Steele. I’ve been doing this for a very long time.”
“Suppose you have.” She smiled in return at the ME’s enclosed, yet gentle, reprimand. He didn’t need to be micromanaged. Rideout would know that whatever existed of the round would need to be forwarded to the lab for ballistics testing immediately. It must have been the lack of answers for the Bernards weighing on her. A false assumption that if she ushered others along, she’d somehow regain control.
Rideout and Liam loaded into their van and pulled onto the road, while she and Trent watched them leave.
Trent then turned to her. “If Leah was targeted, it’s strange the shooter was so far away from her.”
“I thought the same. And if they were going to fire from a distance, why not do it next to the door and run off right after?”
“There are definitely aspects we’re missing.”
“Doesn’t that go without saying.”
“Detective Steele?” Wyatt ambled over. “I pulled the background on Marty Evans. He was scheduled to work from six until three today. His background is clean, as is the owner’s. His name is Porter Landry. He’s arrived.”
The new car in the lot.
“Should I let Evans go?”
Amanda considered. They might have questions for him after watching the video and speaking with the owner of the gas station. They still had the woman who’d found Leah hanging around. “Just have him stay for a bit longer.”
Wyatt nodded and pivoted to leave.
“Hold up a second,” Trent called out.
“Yessss?” Wyatt dragged out.
“Where’s Porter Landry right now?” he asked.
“Inside with Malone.” Wyatt resumed walking in the direction of Marty’s sedan.
Amanda and Trent put booties over their shoes and entered the store.
Yellow evidence markers dotted the floor in front of the counter. Blair’s and Donnelly’s collection cases were there, their lids yawning open waiting to be filled. From the looks of it, there were a few pieces in plastic bags already. One contained a cell phone, and another a blood-spattered novel. There were also the bullet casings Rideout had mentioned.
“You two appear to be off to a good start,” Trent said.
“Oh, yeah. Lots of foot traffic in here, which means a forensic goldmine,” Blair responded.
“Can’t say I’m surprised. It’s a busy place,” Amanda said.
Donnelly straightened from her haunches in the next aisle, holding something in her gloved hands. Whatever she had found she’d pulled from under the end of the shelving unit.
“Rideout told us you figure the gunfire came from down the snack aisle,” Amanda started, “that you found nine mil casings there?”
“That’s right.” Blair walked about two thirds down the gum aisle and spun, holding her hands out as if wielding a gun. The camera she had strapped around her neck was left to rest against her chest. “Just about here.”
Amanda turned away, just the visual of seeing the fatal shooting somewhat re-enacted sending a firebolt through her. How was she going to handle watching it play out on video? She addressed Donnelly, who was now putting her find into a plastic bag. “What do you have there?”
Donnelly walked over to them, holding up a silver heart and a tangle of fine silver chain. “It’s a locket. I’m trying to get it open.” It finally complied. “Ah, here we go.” She extended it for Amanda and Trent to see.
Staring back at them was the picture of a striking woman with an oval-shaped face and black hair dusting her cheekbones. There was something vaguely familiar about her, and a look at the outside of the locket had Amanda thinking she’d seen it before. Was her mind trying to generate a lead from thin air, or was this their first clue on the path to finding a cold-blooded killer?
FIVE
Before Amanda and Trent joined Malone and the owner of the gas station in the office, Blair and Donnelly assured her that they’d process the locket to see what they could get from it.
