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Noah said, “That could net you a lot of numbers.”
“True,” Josie said. “But the geo-fence will just list phone numbers of people within the geographic boundaries. It won’t give us any identifying information. We’re only looking for cell phones that might have crossed out of the park and onto the Collinses’ property, or gotten close enough to the property to have gone to the house. When we find out which numbers those are, we can ask for information for those numbers only. I think, based on what we already know and the scene, the judge will grant it.”
Mettner was already at his computer. “On it.”
“And check the LPRs in the area as well,” Josie said.
LPRs were license plate readers. Three of Denton PD’s patrol vehicles were outfitted with cameras that linked up to their mobile data terminals. They scanned the license plates of all moving and parked vehicles and alerted on any vehicles that had warrants out on them, had been stolen, or whose tags had been suspended. If any of the LPR devices had been near the Collinses’ street or the city park in the time period during which Claudia Collins had been murdered, it would have picked up which vehicles were in the area at that time.
“You got it,” Mettner said.
Noah said, “Let’s go talk to Eve Bowers.”
EIGHT
Interview Room One was the cleanest and least used of the department’s interview rooms. Still, Eve Bowers looked out of place inside the cinderblock box, sitting at the scarred metal table. She had pulled her feet up onto the edge of her chair, hugging her legs to her chest. When Josie and Noah entered the room, big blue eyes, rimmed red from crying, peeked from behind her stocking-clad knees. Without shoes, her toes curled around the edge of the chair. Her head lifted, revealing a face full of freckles and a cupid’s bow mouth. A smudge of dried blood flaked along the side of her nose.
Josie and Noah introduced themselves and sat down. “Sorry to keep you waiting so long,” Josie said.
Eve stared at each of them for a beat and then lowered her feet to the floor, revealing a soft cream sweater dress that contrasted with her black stockings. Smudges of dried blood dotted the front of the sweater. Near her waist were three finger-shaped streaks. She had tried to wipe it off. “How is Beau—Mr. Collins?” she asked in a small voice.
Noah said, “We haven’t spoken with him yet but as soon as we’re done getting all of your statements, you can talk with him.”
“Okay,” she said, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table.
Josie started with some simple baseline questions. “Eve, how long have you worked for Dr. Collins?”
“About three years,” she answered softly.
Noah said, “You’re her personal assistant?”
“Um, yeah. Claudia—Dr. Collins—always says I should call myself her ‘executive assistant.’ She says that makes it sound better. I guess for my resume or whatever.”
“Were you looking for another job?”
Eve’s gaze swept down toward her fingers. She picked at some chipped pink nail polish on one of her thumbs. “Um, I mean, not actively but I was—I mean—well, Claudia always said I was too smart to be her assistant forever. She thinks I can do bigger and better things. She says she won’t be upset when I move on.”
Noah said, “How was your working relationship with her?”
A pink speck of nail polish flew off her thumbnail and onto the table. “It was good. Fine. She’s good to me.” She corrected herself. “Was good to me.”
Josie asked, “What kinds of things did you do for Dr. Collins?”
“Whatever she needed, but mostly maintaining her schedule and reminding her of things. Picking stuff up. Answering emails.”
“What does your average workday look like?” asked Noah.
Eve worked the edge of her other thumbnail beneath what was left of the polish until more flaked off and scattered across the table. “I, uh, show up to the studio around seven in the morning and meet with her. We talk about the day. Claudia likes to do this thing where we set daily goals, which is basically her giving me a list of things she wants me to do or check on that day. Then I stay while she tapes the show with Beau. I snap some photos to send to Margot and Rafferty, the guy who manages the social media for the station, in case they can use anything.”
“Why Margot?” asked Noah.
“She does social media for Beau and Claudia. They have profiles on just about every platform for their show. They used to have profiles for him, her, and the show, and they decided to just consolidate everything onto one set of profiles that revolves around the show, and Margot is responsible for that.”
Josie nodded. “What time is the show over?”
“It airs from nine to nine thirty. There is usually a meeting after that to discuss the next day’s show or any other issues that have come up. Everything is usually wrapped up by noon and then Claudia goes to her office and sees patients. I work from home the rest of the day.”
“Is that the schedule you followed today?” asked Noah.
