“Deputy Director Santini, this is Malcolm at the Arlington County Detention Center.”
“Hey, Malcolm. Did we get a hit?”
“We sure did,” Malcolm replied. “I emailed you a link to view the surveillance earlier, but thought I’d confirm you saw it.”
“I appreciate that.” Carrera unearthed his laptop, opened it, and logged in. “Got it.”
“Let me give you my direct number.”
After hanging up, Carrera clicked on the video link. Greg sat down in front of the detainee window at the county jail. With the ball cap pulled down, and the full beard and mustache, Carrera could barely see him. He wore a white, collared shirt and Khakipants. There was nothing remarkable about him, nothing that would ID him like a tat or an unusual piece of jewelry. Even so, there was something familiar about him.
A moment later, Karen was brought in. She sat across from him, separated by the shatterproof glass.
“I’m so happy to see you,” Karen said. “You’ve gotta get me out.”
Greg said something, but the camera was on Karen’s side, so his voice was muffled.
Carrera turned up the volume on his laptop.
“I’m sorry,” Karen said. “I have no idea when the club will be re-opened.”
Greg’s muffled voice made it impossible to hear him.
“Did you hire a lawyer for me?” Karen asked.
More talking from Greg.
Her expression fell, her mouth dropped open. “What do you mean, you’re breaking up with me!” she screamed.
The guard stepped over. “Keep it down.”
“Go to hell,” Karen blurted over her shoulder before she turned back to Greg. “You can’t leave me. I thought we were going to get married.”
Greg spoke.
“What!” Karen bellowed.
“That’s it,” said the guard. “I warned you once. Time’s up.”
Karen shoved out of the chair and leaned down toward the metal slats in the window. “I hope you rot in hell!”
The guard ushered her out, and Greg left.
The video ended.
Carrera called the detention center.
“Malcolm Burrus.”
“Malcolm, it’s Carrera Santini. Are there cameras on the front of the building?”
“Sure are.”
“When did the man visit detainee Karen Woodside?”
“Hold for me. I’ll check.”
While waiting, Carrera noticed he had a missed text from Slash. He tapped on it and read it.
