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Dalton nodded. “Most of your neighbors weren’t home.”
Rachel’s lips pressed together. “They work during the day.”
“Right,” Dalton said. “Those who were home weren’t looking out the windows.”
“What about the apartment manager, Ms. Morgan?” Rachel asked.
“She said she didn’t get to the building until a few minutes before you came into her office.”
“What about the security cameras?” Rachel asked.
Dalton shook his head. “I asked to look at the security footage for the apartment complex. Ms. Morgan said it hasn’t been working for the past few days, and she has a firm scheduled to work on it later this week.”
Rachel glanced at Griff. “He probably delivered it last night while I was in the hospital.”
Griff nodded. “Then it’s just as well you weren’t home.”
“What do you want to do with the necklace?” Dalton asked.
“We should enter it into evidence,” the sheriff said.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep it for a while. I promise to admit it into evidence later.”
The sheriff’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”
Rachel nodded. “I want to think about it. I’m trying to get into the killer’s head. This could possibly be the only tangible evidence I can get my hands on. The veil has already been admitted as evidence at the state crime lab.”
Sheriff Faulkner nodded. “Okay.” He turned to Griff. “I’m counting on you to take care of my deputy.”
“I’m on it,” Griff said.
“Now, if you don’t have any objections, I’d like to use the computer to tap into the crime databases,” Rachel said. “This guy premeditates. If he’s coming after me next, he could’ve gone after others before my sister. There has to be a connection somewhere.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” the sheriff said. “I have a meeting with the mayor in fifteen minutes.”
Rachel led Griff to a room across the hallway from the sheriff’s office. She sat in the chair in front of a computer and logged in. Then she glanced up at Griff. “You can grab a spare chair from the sheriff’s office. I’m hoping two heads are better than one while looking through these cases. You might see something I’m not considering.”
Griff grabbed a chair from Faulkner’s office and sat beside Rachel.
“I’m going to expand my search out ten years and see if I get any hits on wedding veils and black-haired females eighteen to forty years old. I didn’t find anything specific in my search of cases five years old or less.”
For the next few hours, they read through cases of black-haired females who had been strangled. None of them had been strangled with a wedding veil.
Nearing noon Rachel pressed her fingers to her temples.
“Headache?” Griff asked.
She nodded.
“You’re pushing too hard.”
“I’m fine. I just need something for this headache.” She focused on the computer and brought up yet another victim.
“You need to take a break, get some air and rest your eyes.”
“Look, if you want to help, read this one for me. I’ll close my eyes.” She pushed away from the computer and closed her eyes. “I bumped the search out to fifteen years. It’s crazy, and I’m insane to keep looking, but I can’t give up.”
Griff sighed and leaned closer to the monitor. “Christy Severs. Twenty-seven years old, black hair, green eyes, five feet five inches. From Colorado Springs. Disappeared on her way home from her job as a waitress. Cause of death, ligature strangulation. Victim discovered by a janitor in a large waste container behind a warehouse. Victim found with—” Griff’s gut clenched.
