Page 70 of Fallen Creed

Libby figured he was making it up about the body parts to scare her. To goad her. Rile her up. Make her reveal something. She could play this game, too. Call his bluff. Whatever the hell he was doing. There was no way he could possibly know about Ruben. Or about what happened in Virginia?

“We found a tattoo on the foot,” he said. “Nora said it wasn’t yours.”

It didn’t matter. It barely registered until he dropped a bomb by adding, “A small, dark red heart on the outside of the ankle.”

Libby let out a small gasp before she could catch it. An intake of breath. That was all. She swallowed hard to cover it up. But suddenly the trailer seemed to tilt to one side.

No, it wasn’t possible. That tattoo had to be popular.

And yet, she knew it was possible, because she knew exactly who had a tattoo like that on her ankle. Someone Libby hadn’t heard from since last week. Someone who had done her a favor and taken her place.

—55—

Maggie was relieved to be back in her room. Pakula was right. She needed to work. Keep her mind occupied. However, twenty minutes later, she was fidgety. Couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t sit at all. She paced a trail from the desk to the window and circled the room, always checking outside on every loop.

Agent Alonzo had zipped and dropped the digital security files from the hardware store into three separate emails. He would preview others, search and scan using his sophisticated equipment back at Quantico’s FBI crime lab. Then he’d send them along, digitally earmarking particular segments after he matched receipts and timeframes.

But the first three files were taking forever to download.

Maggie hated waiting.

She slid her cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans so she could feel its vibration. She didn’t want to miss a call or text. Still, she yanked it out to double check when it was quiet for too long.

Less than an hour later, the restlessness was overwhelming. She packed up what she needed, grabbed the spare keycard and moved to Ryder and Grace’s room.

Nothing had changed from when she had checked it last night. Ryder had left his travel duffle on the valet in the corner. A couple of T-shirts, still folded, were left on the bed with the long-sleeved shirt he had worn the day before. The bed was made, perfect folds and tucks as if housekeeping had taken care of it, but Maggie knew from previous morning-afters that Creed had, in fact, made his own bed.

On the desk were some of Grace’s items: an extra pink elephant in case (heaven forbid) her original went missing; a collapsible water bowl and a spare leash.

She opened the curtains wider, allowing the white gray of the sky to lighten the room. She set up her laptop on the desk, but did so without moving a single one of Grace’s items.

After only minutes of settling down to work, she was back on her feet, still restless. At the end of the bed, she stood looking over Ryder’s things. She picked up the long-sleeved shirt, its cuffs still rolled up, then put it on, slipping in one arm, then the other. The shirttails almost hung to her knees. She wrapped the shirt around her body like a familiar old cardigan. She breathed in Ryder’s scent. Shoved the rolled sleeves up over her elbows and sat back down.

Now she was ready to work. Per Alonzo’s instructions, she put in her earbud and called him as she opened the first digital file. The quality of the security camera footage was better than she expected. It would make a tedious job easier.

“You all set?” Alonzo said in place of a greeting.

“Brief me on what we’re looking at.”

“Your friends at the hardware store were very cooperative. Especially when Kevin learned that a second of his employees—Libby Holmes—was now also missing. I checked out the receipts for the last day Kristin Darrow worked. The day she substituted for Libby. I expected to work my way backwards for up to a week if necessary. I don’t think it will be necessary.”

“You think you found something already? Did you see her leave with someone?”

“Inside cameras are above average quality. Outside cameras, not so much. So I spent some time looking for Darrow while she worked. Fire up the first video.”

Maggie hit PLAY while Alonzo was talking. She recognized Darrow with a customer at the end of an aisle. It looked like she was answering the man’s questions and pointing to products on the shelf. The guy was tall, older, with a dark ponytail, long sideburns. He wore a polo shirt and khakis. He seemed interested in the items on the shelf. Not in Darrow.

“I can’t tell what the products are,” she told Alonzo, expecting to see saws or utility knives.”

“Forget the shelves. Forget the gentleman she’s talking to. Take a look behind her in the middle of the aisle. The short, pudgy guy in the dark T-shirt.”

Maggie stopped and backed up the file. She waited until the man was in view, then she freezed the frame. She tapped PLAY and kept her eyes on him. Darrow had her back to him as she helped the other customer. This guy took a box off the shelf and stole glances at Darrow.

“Maybe he’s waiting for her to finish so he can ask a question,” she suggested.

“Keep watching.”

The customer in khakis grabbed what he needed, thanked Darrow and left. Darrow went around the end of the aisle and disappeared from view. The man who had been watching hurried to the end of the aisle, stopped and peered around the corner where Darrow had disappeared. He glanced in the other direction before he turned and followed Darrow.