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Chapter 94
I dismissed myparanoia that I was being watched as I left the FBI field office. I needed to focus. I looked down at the cigar tube in my hand. The pen was a really big deal. It would have cost a couple hundred dollars minimum. Maybe double that amount. That was a special present. Especially for a young FBI agent. That was not a gift between casual friends.
I couldn’t waste time if I wanted to make any kind of credible accusation against Bobby Patel. I needed to find his car. It had to be close by, and maybe there was more evidence in it.
I quick-stepped out of the parking lot. The number of Ford Crown Victorias, Chevy Impalas, and Ford Tauruses on the street told me a lot of the agents parked there for quick access. My guess was that Bobby wanted to be out front and able to get to his car quickly. As much time as he spent out in the field, he struck me as the kind of guy who wouldn’t waste time parking in the lot.
Trees along the sidewalk around the building blocked some of the view from the windows. I stopped beneath one and took a quick look up and down the street. There was no one around. And no traffic. I spotted Bobby’s five-year-old brown Taurus at the end of the block.
I walked quickly, pausing in front of the Taurus. I took another moment to glance around. The coast was clear. I took a deep breath, then searched the ground for a rock or some object to break the driver’s side window. I’d never learned to pick car locks like most cops on TV.
I found a chunk of broken concrete loose in the sidewalk around the base of one of the trees. I calculated how quickly I would have to act once the window shattered. I’d have only a minute to search the car. Then I had another idea. It was simple and not necessarily a long shot.
I got down on all fours and felt under the bumper at the rear of the car. I felt along the metal frame, then I found what I was looking for: a hide-a-key. Any cop who has ever worked a crime scene and locked his keys in the car knows to hide a key somewhere convenient. As a cop, you never live something like that down.
I pulled the key case off the frame. The key was old. It had rusting crud on it. Probably whoever had had the car assigned to them before Bobby had put it there.
The interior of the car was clean. No surprise. Bobby was a little bit of a neat freak. There was nothing in the console or the glove compartment. Then I noticed something catch the light. It was under the passenger seat. I reached down and was able to just touch the silvery sliver.
When I pulled it up to look at it more closely, it took me a moment to realize it was a fragment of a broken DVD. Just a tiny chunk of it. And there was a little writing on the chunk. The upper part of the number one written with a flair at the top in red Sharpie. Just like the other DVDs for the security system at the Whole Foods where Emily had started her run. Bobby was the one who had taken the DVD. He had broken it up into little pieces right here in his car. Maybe he did get flustered and make stupid mistakes.
I was careful to only touch it on the edges. I used my phone to photograph it in place and leave it there. Just in case things didn’t work out the way I planned. Now I had no doubt that Bobby had killed Emily Parker.
Just as I was about to scoot out of the car, I noticed a set of keys at the bottom of a cup holder. They were clearly Bobby’s apartment keys along with a small mailbox key attached to the key ring. I kept the keys because I knew I could find out where he lived.
I was on my way to Alexandria, Virginia.
