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Chapter 70
I did havesome access to databases. Bobby had given me a password to get into a state police site that showed tolls someone might pick up driving on several of the paid highways. There was a chance I could get lucky and run one of my suspects’ license plates and find a hit. But it would have to be a hit on the day Michelle Luna was murdered in Baltimore.
There were also my regular NYPD access databases, generally public records aggregators. Nothing too fancy. Who pays the light bill at a certain address? Does someone have a specific professional license? That kind of thing. Information that comes in handy when trying to piece together an investigation.
Bobby also had given me access to an aggregate of security cameras, including the Whole Foods where Emily had parked, located within the city limits of Washington. The missing footage from the Whole Foods still hadn’t turned up. There were hundreds of other feeds I could tap into if I needed to. Useful if I had a team to help me. A little overwhelming by myself.
I searched for the license plates I had collected both during surveillance and after digging through public records for vehicle registrations in the last two years. The first plate I plugged in was Beth Banks’s. There was nothing.
Just for fun, I ran both Justice Steinberg’s and Rhea Wellmy-Steinberg’s. They had lots of tolls but nothing to or from Baltimore other than one trip about a month ago.
I was about to move on to another website when I decided to look up Jeremy Pugh’s vehicles. At the time of Michelle Luna’s murder, Pugh was driving a three-year-old Ford F-150 pickup truck. I knew he’d lived in the Northern Virginia area.
I was surprised to see Pugh had been close to Baltimore the day before and two days after Michelle Luna’s murder. If he lived in the area, that wouldn’t be unusual. Still, it made me think. I hadn’t heard much from the boisterous Burning Land extremist lately.
I went back to the security surveillance website and checked the Whole Foods on the day Emily Parker made her last run. After more than an hour of poring over different video feeds, the best I could find was a Ford F-150 parked in the lot of the Whole Foods. It was in a cluster with several other vehicles. I would bet it was one of the managers who had arrived early to get some work done.
Thinking about Pugh, and the fact that The Burning Land claimed to not know the FBI was looking at them, made me wonder. Had Pugh known Emily in some other way? Could he have been a source of information for her? He could have been an informant for his own group. As with any case, there were more questions than answers.
At least I managed to suppress my urge to call Detective Holly from the Baltimore homicide squad this late in the evening. If she was working, it was because they had an active homicide. If she wasn’t, I didn’t want to bother her at home. I managed to force myself to lie on top of the sheets and doze off.
First thing in the morning, still wearing my clothes from the night before, I decided to call Detective Holly. Her cheerful voice and positive attitude this early annoyed the shit out of me. But I kept my comments to myself.
After we got the small talk out of the way, Detective Holly said, “I know you didn’t call to see how I’m doing on the job. For the record, I’m crushing it. What can I do for you this morning?”
“I was curious about the DNA you collected at the scene of the Michelle Luna homicide. I know you ran it through the CODIS. Did you ever have any suspects good enough to collect samples from?”
“Never developed anyone enough to worry about DNA. I was still hoping we might get a random hit at some point in the future. They’re always adding samples to the CODIS database.”
“What if I had some suspects in the Emily Parker homicide I’ve been looking at? Could we compare them to the Michelle Luna DNA?”
“That’s fine with me. In fact, it sounds like a good idea. The FBI has the profile, and their evidence unit is holding our DNA sample.” She paused, then added, “Will your suspects give you consent, or will you have to get the samples surreptitiously?”
“I know for sure that no one is giving me consent to take a sample. Some think they’re above the law, and one suspect probably thinks it would be a conspiracy to charge him. It’s going to take some work to get samples. At least that gives me something concrete to do.”
“Call me if I can be of service.”
I wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic. “I’m sure you’re a credit to the Baltimore Police Department.”
I heard a cheerful “Bite me” just as the line went dead.
