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To her credit, Gardiner didn’t visibly react to this. “Is she all right?”
“She was shot with a sniper round. She’s out of surgery and is critically stable. Another inch to the right and they’d be making funeral arrangements.”
“Well, I’m glad they’re not.”
“The man who tried to kill her was then killed by police.”
“Do they know who he is?”
“Yes.” But Decker would go no further.
“What does any of that have to do with me?”
“You have the picture I left you?”
She appeared startled by this and sat up. “Um, no, I think I threw it away. Why?”
“Good thing I took a picture of it.” Decker took out his phone and held it up.
She looked at the screen. “But that’s the wrong side. That’s thebackof the picture.”
“Well, for my purposes,thisis the relevant side.” He pointed at the writing. “Daddy’s little star. He was a very proud papa.”
Gardiner looked up at him from under hooded eyes. “That was a long time ago.”
“Yes, it was. Things change. People change. I have another picture to show you.” He flipped through the screens. “This is a picture of your father’s forearm taken during the autopsy.”
“Oh, please, God, I am not looking at that,” she said in disgust.
“There’s nothing gruesome about it, Ms. Gardiner. I just want you to look at the tattoos on the forearm.”
“My father did not have tattoos.”
“He got these after he went to prison.”
She became subdued. “After?”
“Yeah. Here’s the first one. A spiderweb.” He explained the symbolism.
“I’m sure lots of prisoners get that one because even though they’re guilty they can’t accept what they did,” she said defiantly.
“Here’s the second one.” He showed her the teardrop and looked at her expectantly.
“What does that one mean?” she asked dully.
“Travis Correctional is an all-male facility. And some of the men there get…lonely. And they take out that loneliness on other men, like your father.”
She blinked rapidly as she processed this. “You…you mean?”
“Yes. I do. Now, here’s the third one. And this is the one I really want you to focus on.” He brought up the screen with the arrow through the star. “I’ve seen a lot of prison tats. I’ve never seen that one before.” He looked at her for a reaction.
For a moment it looked like the woman had stopped breathing. Then she licked her lips, dabbed at her eyes, and looked away.
“Any idea what that might mean?” he asked.
“I know what you’re getting at.”
“What’s that?”
