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Hadn’t there been something? A clip of a moment that had made her pause? Something about the smaller robber? Camila searched her memory, trying to put herself back in the vault. The bigger guy was there, so close that if he’d decided to shoot her, there would be no hope of him missing. Her pulse tripped in her veins, her mind zeroing in on the gun pointed directly at her chest, and fear blotted out the images she tried to conjure up.
“No,” Camila whispered, shaking her head. “I don’t remember anything else.”
“Maybe a smell?” Matteo tried. “Or a mannerism? Anything?”
Irritation filled her rib cage even as tears filled her eyes. Did he really think she was holding back? She got ready to tell Matteo that she understood the question and the answer was still no. Formed the words and got them loaded on her tongue.
But what came out was, “Wait.”
Camila closed her eyes, picturing the vault like a drawing. The shiny inner workings of the lock. Rosalie’s blazer, navy blue, the fabric pooled beneath her zip-tied hands. The smaller robber leaning down, jabbing his finger at Camila, her heart moving rapid-fire as the robber looked up and the picture grew crystal clear in her mind.
“His eyes!” she gasped, her brain coughing up the memory that her fear must have swallowed. “When I bent down to get Rosalie’s inhaler out of her pocket, the smaller robber got close enough for me to see his eyes. He only looked at me for a split second, but…”
Think. Think. Something had been strange. Caught her attention, struck her as out of the ordinary. His eyelashes? His irises? Yes, something about his eye color, that was it.
All at once, the details slotted into place, and oh—“Heterochromia!”
“Sorry?” Sergeant Sinclair asked, every other detective looking equally confused.
But Capelli saved her bacon. “The robber had two different-colored eyes?”
Of course, Capelli and his eidetic memory knew exactly what heterochromia was. “Sort of. His eyes were blue, but one was half amber around the bottom of his iris.” She’d read about the condition in an art blog about sketching faces, but she’d never seen it before on an actual person. “It was his left eye.”
“This is really good,” Maxwell said, swinging a look at Sinclair. “That has to be rare, right?”
“Less than one percent of the population has the condition,” Capelli said, tapping rapidly away at his keyboard.
Sinclair nodded. “Good. Let’s run with that and see if we get any hits in the database.” To Camila, he said, “Thanks for coming in. I know it wasn’t easy for you to make a statement. If you think of anything else, you can give any one of us a call, day or night.”
The group of detectives all shifted in their respective seats, and Camila looked around, confused. “So, wait? That’s it? Have you seen these guys anywhere? Did they really have control of the video feed? What happens next?”
Isabella took a step toward her, apology in her eyes. “We can’t really talk about the specifics of a case. You gave us some great information, but we’re still piecing a lot of things together right now.”
“We’ll do everything to find them,mija,” Matteo said. “I’m not going to rest until we do.”
Okay, but how was that going to keep her safe from the fear clogging her brain and commandeering her breath every time she closed her eyes? “Isn’t there anything you can tell me?”
“Not right now,” Sinclair said, thanking her one more time for coming in. He excused himself, moving toward the group of detectives who were now clustered by Capelli’s workstation, and Camila’s mind spun as Matteo appeared at her side.
“Why don’t I call someone to come get you and take you home?” he asked, guiding her gently in the direction of the door.
Camila shook her head. “I don’t need anyone to come get me. What I’d like are some answers.”
Matteo exhaled. “I don’t have any that I can give you,” he said. “We’re working the case, and it’s our highest priority. But this isn’t like TV. Investigations take time.”
“So, what? I just have to wait?” The thought made Camila’s stomach tilt.
“I know that it’s hard. Believe me, I want nothing more than to find these guysright nowand bring them in.” A glint moved through his stare, his expression as serious as she’d ever seen it. “I just need you to sit tight while we make that happen. Okay?”
Matteo might be overprotective, and, yeah, sometimes a pretty righteous pain in her ass, but he was her brother. He loved her, and he’d never compromise her safety. “I guess,” she said.
“If you won’t let me callmamito come get you, can I at least call Delia? She’ll want to help.”
“You’re just saying that so she won’t be furious with you for not telling her what happened,” Camila said, and he lifted his hands in surrender.
“That’s partly true.” Matteo opened the door and led her out into the hallway. “But you’ve been through a lot this morning. More than most people go through ever. I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
Camila arched a brow at him even though her temple throbbed its disapproval at the movement. “And I think I’m thirty, not thirteen.”
