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I cover my heart with my hand. “Ouch.”
“Get over it.”
“I’m still gonna let myself believe it’s a date.”
“I thought Major League Pope didn’t go on dates,” she says, making light of what she knows is going on.
“There’s only ever been one person I’d make an exception?—”
She cuts me off. “How far has the footage gone back?”
I look at the time stamp. “Still rolling back through yesterday.”
“I think we should go back a few days, don’t you?”
I watch as she puts just a shot of vanilla creamer in her coffee. This is new. Whit used to only drink coffee if half of the cup was filled with milk. Major League Whit takes it strong.
“I’m good with going all the way back to when Chloe moved in here. See how long he’s been—” I stop speaking when I see a Porsche roll up to the front entrance and hit pause. “Come here and tell me if you think this is your ex’s vehicle.”
She walks back over, two cups in her hands, and sets mine down. “Black, two sugars?”
“Thanks, Whit.”
She sits beside me and hits a few keys, rewinding the frame until the vehicle is backed out of it, and then hits some more keys, making the frames move slowly.
She again pauses and then zooms in on the license plate and whispers, “Too blurry.”
As the footage rolls slowly, we watch as someone walks out to the car, pulls something out of her pocket, bends over, and hands that something to the driver something.
“You know who that is?”
Swallowing hard, she nods. “Unfortunately, yes, I think so.” She leans back from the screen as the car takes off, and the woman turns and walks back in. “That’s Alice. She’s one of the nine paid employees. She works nights.”
“You okay?” I ask, knowing damn well she’s not.
“She’s working tonight.” She repeats.
“I know exactly what I’d do. I’d question Alice immediately. Ask her why I’m looking at her handing something off to who I’m damn sure is Kal Seward the day before Spud obtained confidential information about a woman who should have felt safe here.”
“That’s exactly what I’d like to do.” She looks back at the screen. “But I can’t make that call on my own.”
“Talk it out.” I encourage her.
“We never bring a woman to a shelter this close to her abuser. I just knew Chloe needed to get out of there; this was my push.”
“I’m sure you did what was necessary.”
“I thought so. I need to talk to York—tomorrow when she’s sober, of course. Then, we’ll call an emergency board meeting. This has never happened. I can’t leave here when I’m questioning if the women are safe. Overnights, there’s one person on, and that one person knows they never leave the building unless there’s an emergency and the police have been called.”
“As of right now, you’re a hundred percent sure that Alice broke at least one rule last night.” I point to the monitor showing the evidence.
She nods.
“That’s a safety and security issue. I’m guessing that alone calls for an emergency meeting.”
“I can’t leave them,” she states, eyes glossing over.
“We’re not done going through the videos, not even close. We’re not going anywhere.”
