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“We’re widening the search of the landscape by another ten-mile radius,” Theo divulged over the sound of his Jeep’s door slamming closed. “The unsub had to have dumped the cars somewhere or buried them with heavy equipment you might find on a farm. Come sunrise, I’ll be joining Detective Raines at another possible site.”
“Does that mean you’re done for the day?” Brook asked as she powered down her tablet and hooked her stylus to the side.
“It does,” Theo responded as the engine of his Jeep roared to life. “Do you need me to pick up something on the way back?”
“That depends,” Brook said lightly as she stood from the chair. “Do you own a tux?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brooklyn Sloane
December 2022
Monday — 6:37pm
Thelightjazzmusicthat drifted through the condo was interrupted by the repetitive chime of the phone. A text message had been received, but Brook was still standing in front of the full-length mirror of her bedroom. It was rare that she ever had the need to wear a formal dress, but this Tom Ford liquid sequin floor-length column dress had been in her closet for the past two years. She’d purchased it for an event that had been cancelled, but she’d never gotten around to wearing the dress, which had been discounted to an outrageous price.
The red fluid fabric skimmed her figure with a simple tank-style design where the fabric left both her arms bare. Her neck was highlighted with an elegant white gold ruby pendent, her right wrist was adorned with a 4.8-carat white gold diamond and ruby tennis bracelet, and her left wrist was where she wore her Rolex diamond platinum presidential watch. The shape of the dress was very flattering to her figure, and the slit halfway up the side made it comfortable for her to move around easily on matching three-inch red heels.
The only problem that she’d run into was where to keep her firearm. She’d opted to take her Berretta Px4 Storm in S&W .40 caliber out of her private safe. The weapon was compact enough to fit into the red clutch purse that had been shoved on the top shelf of her closet, alongside the heels that she’d bought to go along with the dress two years ago.
It didn’t take her long to touch up the matching red lipstick and nail color. With her black hair and blue eyes, red complimented her physical features. She hadn’t had time to wash her hair upon arriving home, so she’d opted to wear her hair up while allowing a couple of strands to frame either side of her face in order to soften her cheekbones.
Once she’d given herself self-approval, she walked across her bedroom to pick up her phone. She’d been expecting a text from Theo, who had promised her that he’d send her a message when he was headed down to the lobby. Having given the evening some thought over the last few hours, there was a chance that tonight wouldn’t amount to much.
Even so, she found it best to immerse themselves into the world of those involved with the investigation. Reading body language and facial expressions sometimes offered more than hardcore evidence.
Brook quelled the small bit of bile that rose to the back of her throat. Leave it to Bit to be able to multitask like a professional. He’d sent her contact information on Scotty Nevin. She’d known that her brother’s former friend had gone to a trade school after graduation. The last time that she’d spoken to him, she’d discovered that he’d ended up on an oil rig as a deep-sea qualified welder.
Scott had actually done quite well for himself, with the exception of his personal life. Divorced twice with four children by three different women.
Brook had already asked him an endless number of questions back when she’d first started her hunt for Jacob. There really wasn’t anything left for them to cover, but she couldn’t stop ruminating over the seed that Graham had planted regarding the summer of 1996.
Hadsomething occurred at summer camp that she’d overlooked all those years ago?
She’d contacted each and every camp counselor, most of the attendees, and even some of the parents. They hadn’t appreciated being questioned, especially by the sister of Jacob Walsh. The Walsh name had been tainted, and with good reason. Had the tables been turned, she wasn’t so sure she’d be willing to speak with a sibling of a serial killer who’d terrorized her hometown.
As Brook had been staring at her screen, Theo’s text had come through that he was heading down to the lobby from his condo. She didn’t have time to make a call, so she decided to send an email to Scotty. She’d thought long and hard about how to craft her inquiry, so it shouldn’t take her too long.
Brook picked up her red clutch purse, which weighed a bit more than intended with her compact firearm tucked safely inside. She’d already taken her license, her carry permit, one of her credit cards, and a hundred dollars in twenty-dollar bills out of her everyday wallet and tucked them inside the cell phone pocket that she’d bought last month. Her red lipstick had slid in perfectly underneath her weapon for when she needed to freshen up in the restroom throughout the evening.
Five minutes and one email later, Brook stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby. She’d opted for a long black cloak overtop of her red dress instead of a coat. It complemented her formal attire while keeping the cold at bay.
Theo’s appreciative whistle drifted through the air before she caught sight of him near the front desk. Lou was the doorman this evening, and his infectious smile widened even more at the sight of her.
“You clean up pretty well yourself, Theo,” Brook replied in kind as she closed the distance between them. He was wearing a black dress coat over a tuxedo, and based on the fit, one that was not a rental, either. “Lou, do I even want to ask about fantasy football?”
Lou’s smile vanished, but there was no sign of anger. If anything, determination was written across his features. His white bushy brows practically touched in resolve as he shook a finger her way.
“Don’t you go believing Charlie when he says he’s got this year’s season wrapped up,” Lou warned. “I simply forgot to make a substitution last week, but I’m ready for this weekend. Plus, my wide receiver is better than his.”
“We believe you, Lou.” Theo gave the counter a tap of his hand before looking at his watch. “We better get going.”
“You two enjoy your evening,” Lou said with speculation in his wise gaze. “Whatever the two of you are working on, be careful. It never works out the way those James Bond 007 novels say it does.”
Theo motioned for Brook to turn first, and then the two of them fell into step toward the exit. Being the gentleman that his parents raised him to be, he rested his hand on her lower back as he reached for the door.
“I didn’t say a word to him that we were working a case tonight,” Theo said, as if she didn’t know any better. “I swear, Lou has got a reading on every single person’s pulse in this place.”
