Page 95 of Ballistic

“Mrs. Richardson, we’re very sorry to interrupt your day. I promise we’ll make this quick.” Nancy sat forward in her chair, her body stiff and guarded, as though she’d poised to run any second.

“We’re investigating the death of a young girl. Does the name Jasper Horn mean anything to you?” Tipping my head, I studied her eyes, the subtle way they flickered in response.

Dawn’s lips pursed as she swallowed a gulp and blinked. “I’m …. Excuse me, what did you say?”

“Jasper Horn? We think he might be responsible for her murder.”

“This … hit and run … happened out in front of the building, you say?”

I sniffed and kept my gaze from Nancy, who was probably about two seconds from yanking me out of the room. “This isn’t about a hit and run. I think you know what it’s about, and for the sake of your reputation, I’m trying to be discreet.”

With a roll of her shoulders, she stretched her lips into an obviously fake smile. “My apologies, Detective. I don’t recall seeing your badge.”

“Left it in the car.” A hard thump hit my leg where Nancy kicked me.

“I’m afraid I cannot answer any of your questions. Not without the presence of my lawyer.”

I sat forward in my chair, resting my hands on the table. “A young girl is dead. Dead. I need you to help me on this.”

“Okay, that’s enough, detective. We’ll be on our way. Thank you, Mrs. Richardson.” Nancy stood up, nudging my arm, and as I lifted my phone from my pocket, she gave me a hard yank.

I set the phone on the table and shoved it toward her. “You know who he is. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

Without so much as a glimpse at the screen, Dawn kept her eyes on mine. “Please leave this building.”

“Let’s go!” Nancy tugged hard, knocking my arm into the phone, nearly sending it crashing to the floor. “Now!”

In the scuffle, I hit ‘Play’, and at the sounds of the girl screaming over the laughter of the men in the video, Dawn’s eyes widened with panic.

“Turn that off!” she screamed, scrambling for my phone.

“Officer! Enough!” Nancy gave another hard tug, and I turned it off, holding both hands in the air in surrender. “Alright! I’m done. I’m sorry. We’ll go. I’m sorry for disturbing you.” I swiped up the pen and notepad lying on the table and jotted down my phone number. “If you change your mind, or need to contact me—”

“Enough! Let’s go. Now!” Huffing with irritation, Nancy thumped me in the arm and exited the room first. The moment she was out the door, I lunged forward and locked it behind her.

I spun back toward Mrs. Richardson, who took a step back, grabbing hold of the chair behind her.

“I’m calling security. If you lay one hand on me—”

“Please. I’m begging you. Just tell me if this is you.” I fast-forwarded the video to the end, keeping all the screams and laughter muted, and held it out to her once more.

“Dax! Open this door!” Nancy’s voice and the accompanying knocks on the door carried the kind of fury I suspected would have me dodging punches later.

“I’ve already spoken to the legitimate police and a psychiatrist who inquired about it. I have nothing more to say.” Her eyes dipped to my phone, where the part of the video with Nicoleta standing on the dock was paused. With a frown, her gaze dipped a second time. And a third, until she tipped her head, studying the image on my phone. “What is this? I don’t recognize this part of it.”

“The first scenes were you, though?”

“Yes. And they cut to an interview afterward. Of me talking to the camera. It was to ensure that no charges were pressed. That it was completely voluntary on my part.”

I played the final scene of Nicoleta being pushed into the water and left to drown.

The woman slapped a hand over her mouth, and tears filled her eyes. “Dear God. She was murdered?”

The knocks at the door turned to pounding and the rattling of the doorknob.

“She’s alive. But they meant to kill her.”

She shook her head, her brows furrowed and troubled. “That wasn’t on the original video. It’s been doctored.”