Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

S am and Jo went straight back to the station.

“Amelia admitted to lying. She saw Alex at the bar that night, drunk with some guys, including an old man smoking a cigar,” Sam said.

Kevin frowned, leaning forward. “Did she say who the old man was?”

Jo shook her head. “No, but she said they took Alex out the back door around nine.”

Wyatt’s eyes widened. “The back? We only have footage of the front entrance.”

Sam nodded, his jaw tight. “Exactly. We need to review the tapes again, see if we can catch anything from the side or back.”

They gathered around Wyatt’s computer, their eyes glued to the screen as he fast-forwarded through the footage. Suddenly, Jo pointed at the screen. “There! Pause it.”

Wyatt hit the space bar, freezing the image. It was grainy and dark, but they could just make out the back of a black car pulling away from the bar.

Kevin squinted at the screen. “Can you enhance that? Get the license plate?”

Wyatt zoomed in, but the image only revealed the last two letters of the plate. “That’s all we got,” he said, his voice frustrated. “Could match thousands of cars.”

Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Is that even a limo? Hard to tell. And how do we narrow down matches for the plate numbers?”

Wyatt was already cracking his knuckles, a determined glint in his eye. “I’ll get to work on some code,” he said, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Sam clapped him on the shoulder, a small smile on his face. “Good man. Keep at it.”

Kevin leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed. “So if Alex was there acting drunk and they took him out back, seems like they might have planned this. Maybe slipped something into his drink.”

Sam nodded, his eyes narrowed. “Agreed. This was premeditated.”

Jo tapped her pen against her notepad. “Which means they planned to meet him there. This wasn’t some random encounter.”

“Exactly,” Sam said, his voice low. “And that’s why his phone records are so important. Maybe that’s why he had the phones switched to go through one number. He was planning on calling someone about something and didn’t want it traced.”

Kevin’s eyes widened. “And that got him killed.”

Jo sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Yeah, but by whom?”

Jo pressed her lips together, her eyes narrowing. “I can think of one old guy that had to do with that bank robbery, and he is also acting suspicious. Dom Hartman.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. “And he’s been asking about the case. Never came in asking about an old case before.”

“You have to wonder what he was looking for in the old evidence files,” Kevin said.

Jo leaned forward, her voice low. “Do you think he smokes cigars?”

They all chuckled, the tension in the room easing slightly.

Wyatt shook his head, a small smile on his face. “But where would Hartman get a limo?”

Sam rubbed his chin, his mind racing. “That could be another clue that this is part of something bigger. Maybe he’s working with someone else.”

Kevin’s eyes lit up, his hand shooting into the air. “I’ve got an idea. The assisted-living place has a visitor log. Maybe I should go look through it and see who visited Frank the week before he died.”

Sam nodded. “Good idea.”

Wyatt’s fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyes glued to the screen. “I’ll get a log of the calls coming out of Marnie’s HQ the day Alex died,” he said, not looking up from his computer. “Might give us some more clues.”

Jo tapped her pen against her notepad, her brow furrowed. “You think we should go question Hartman?”

Sam shook his head, his eyes narrowed. “Not yet. Let’s wait until we have something more to surprise him with.”

Kevin stepped into the assisted-living facility, the scents of antiseptic and fresh linen filling his nostrils. He approached the front desk, his eyes searching for a familiar face.

“Well, hello there, Detective Deckard,” the nurse said, her eyes crinkling with recognition. “What brings you back to our neck of the woods?”

Kevin smiled, leaning against the counter. “Just following up on a few things about Frank Milson. I remember you were quite helpful last time.”

The nurse nodded, her expression softening. “Ah, yes. We sure do miss Frank around here. He was such a character.”

“Did he have a lot of visitors?” Kevin asked, his voice casual.

The nurse tilted her head, thinking back. “Mostly just his grandson, Alex. Such a tragedy, what happened to him.” She shook her head, her eyes sad. “But there were a few times when Frank had a visitor around his own age. I’d find them sitting in the common room, laughing and reminiscing. Not too many left for him to do that with, you know?”

Kevin nodded, his mind already racing. “Would you mind if I took a look at the visitor logs? Just want to check something.”

The nurse hesitated for a moment then shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Just give me a second to grab them.”

She disappeared into a back room, returning a moment later with a thick binder. Kevin flipped it open, his eyes scanning the pages. He focused on the week before Frank’s death, his finger running down the list of names.

“Alex, Alex, Alex,” he muttered under his breath. Then, his finger stopped. “Wait a minute.”

There, scribbled in barely legible handwriting, was a name that seemed to start with H and end with “man.” The time stamp showed the visitor had only stayed for an hour.

Kevin squinted at the name, trying to make it out. Could it be Hartman? And if so, what had they talked about?

He snapped a photo of the page with his phone then handed the binder back to the nurse with a smile. “Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it.”

As he walked out of the facility, his mind was already churning with possibilities. He needed to get this information back to the team, and fast. If Hartman was involved, they needed to know what he was up to.