‘Which would be a big red flag,’ Garcia jumped in. ‘If the name isn’t false, if they stole the name from someone else, then the backtracking will come up against a very odd jump – from one life to a completely different one. Another big red flag.’
‘Correct,’ Hunter agreed, before raising finger number two. ‘If our killer decided not to have a name-change because his parents’ murder was well hidden as accidental, then Research’s backtrack will find two deceased parents, where both of them died in the same event.’
‘And we’re back to a red flag,’ Garcia said.
‘So no red flags against a support-group leader,’ Hunter concluded, ‘means that we’ll be OK to approach him/her and ask about Shaun Daniels and Terry Wilford.’
Garcia smiled. ‘That should work… and save us a hell of a lot of time.’
Hunter reached for the phone on his desk once again, but before he could connect to Research, a knock came on their office door.
‘Come in,’ Garcia called.
The door was pushed open by Detective Brighton from Homicide. ‘Hey, guys, are you coming now, or later?’
Both Hunter and Garcia just looked back at him with blank stares.
‘You guys forgot, didn’t you?’ The question was clearly a rhetorical one. ‘Detective Jenkins’s surprise birthday party? We’re all gathering at the Library Bar just around the corner?’
‘Of course,’ Garcia said, jumping to his feet and stealing a peek at Hunter. ‘What time is she getting there again?’
Detective Loretta Jenkins had been with the LAPD Robbery Homicide Division for just over four years, after working her ass off as an officer for nearly ten. She was smart, fearless, friendly and vicious when she needed to be. Inside the RH Division, Loretta Jenkins was well liked and very well respected. She could also drink most of the division under the table.
Brighton checked his watch. ‘In about an hour.’
Hunter gave him a firm nod. ‘Sure, we’ll be…’ Instead of finishing his sentence, his gaze moved to a floating spot in the air and it simply stayed there. He said nothing else.
Garcia also stayed quiet.
‘Are you OK there?’ Brighton asked Hunter, but got no reply.
‘Is he OK?’ he directed the question at Garcia.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ Garcia came back. ‘We’re fine.’
Brighton’s stare returned to Hunter before he gave the room a subtle headshake. ‘You two are a fucking weird unit, you know that? You guys need a vacation, or something.’
‘We’ll be there,’ Garcia reassured him.
As Brighton closed the door behind him, Garcia’s attention turned to Hunter, who had put down the phone without making the call to Research.
‘I know that look, Robert. What did you just think of now?’
Hunter didn’t reply. Instead he went back to his computer.
‘Robert, what are you looking for?’
‘The Missing Persons Report for Terry Wilford that we got from Detective Cohen.’
Garcia frowned. ‘I’ve got it here.’ He checked the pile of files on his desk. ‘I printed it out earlier. I find it easier that way. Why? What do you need?’
‘When I read through the file,’ Hunter replied. ‘I remember it mentioning that Terry worked almost every night at The Varnish, with the exception of one night – a night that he had off every week for years. What night was that?’
Garcia’s eyes lit up. ‘Holy shit! The support-group sessions, they’re all in the evenings.’
Hunter nodded.
Garcia flipped through the report until he found what he was looking for. ‘Here we go – Tuesdays. Terry Wilford always had Tuesdays off.
