Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Both men’s heads swiveled his way as Dare strode into the office. Sawyer Reed tipped his head in greeting as he wrapped up a phone call. “Thank you, ma’am. I’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”

He hung up, then turned his attention to Dare. “Sheriff.”

Dare dipped his chin at his newest hire, then gestured toward the whiteboard that took up the wall behind the men. “How are we coming on the homicide?”

“We’re not,” Cam groused. “We interviewed everyone who was out that morning—all four of them—but no one heard or saw a damn thing. No prints in the system, nothing from the footage. We questioned the drivers who were out that night, but no one saw anything out of the ordinary. The asshole didn’t leave a damn thing for us to work with.”

Dare glanced back to Sawyer. “What about the car from the drive-by at the plaza? Did you find the owner?”

“Just got off the phone with her, but it wasn’t her. She left the car at the airport Monday morning when she flew out.”

He glanced down at a note stuck to the corner of his computer. “The car is located in the Gold Lot, Row J. She didn’t have a space number, but it should be easy enough to find.”

Dare nodded. “Reed, you’re with me today. We’re going to the airport.”

“Yes, sir.” He popped up from his chair and grabbed his phone and keys.

Dare waved for him to follow. “I’ll drive.”

He glanced toward Sarge who lay sprawled on his pillow beside Yvonne’s desk. The dog might as well stay here and get spoiled.

He tipped his head toward his dispatcher. “We’ll be back in a bit. Watch him for me, would you? And easy on the treats this time.”

The older woman tossed him a sly grin as she reach down to pat the dog. “But he’s such a good boy.”

Sarge rolled to his back, exposing his belly and Dare rolled his eyes. It was a losing battle; the dog had everyone wrapped around his paw and there was no undoing it now.

Outside, he and Sawyer climbed into the cruiser and headed toward the airport. He glanced over at his new hire. “Settling in okay?”

“So far.” The man nodded. “It’s pretty quiet compared to my last position.”

Dare snorted. That was a huge understatement. Reed had come from Minneapolis where their departments dealt with multiple homicides every day. “This is the first violent death we’ve had in several years,” Dare admitted. “It’s not usually this exciting.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind,” Reed replied. “The slower pace doesn’t bother me in the least.” He gestured toward the fragrant, freshly tilled fields. “Besides, the view is better.”

“I’m probably biased,” Dare said, “but I’m pretty damn partial to Brookhaven myself.”

Sawyer glanced his way. “You live here your whole life?”

“Nah. I took off at eighteen, joined up and put in eight years. Saw enough of the world to hate most of it.”

Sawyer nodded in commiseration. “Military will do that to you.”

They chatted until they turned into the Gold Lot of the airport, and Sawyer pointed. “There’s row J. We’re looking for a white BMW.”

It wasn’t hard to find. Dare pressed a button on his radio to call Dispatch. He rattled off the plate number, then waited for Yvonne to run the information.

After a few minutes, the radio crackled to life. “Sheriff, that license plate is registered to a beige Chevrolet reported missing from Riverside two days ago. The vehicle is marked as stolen.”

“Copy that,” Dare replied, biting back a sigh. He turned to Sawyer. “We need to check with the airport security to see if they have any footage.”

“Good idea. Let’s head over to the security office.”

They made their way to the airport security office, where they introduced themselves to the head of security, Carl Thompson. The older man nodded their way. “Afternoon, Sheriff. Lieutenant. What can I do for you?”

“We’ve found a BMW in the parking lot with plates that belong to a stolen Chevy.” Dare explained the situation. “We need to check your security footage to see who tampered with the plates.”

Thompson grunted in acknowledgment. “Come on, I’ll take you to the surveillance room.”

The large room was filled with monitors displaying live feeds from various parts of the airport. Thompson directed one of his staff to pull up the footage from the long-term parking lot.

“Ticket says she clocked in at 5:52. Let’s start from there and see if we can spot anyone near the BMW,” Thompson suggested.

They fast-forwarded through the footage, watching cars come and go. Several dozen people passed, but none slowed next to the car. After nearly a half hour of scanning, they finally found what they were looking for. A beige Chevrolet pulled into the lot and navigated slowly down the aisle. The timestamp indicated it was shortly after noon three days ago.

Anyone watching would assume the driver was looking for a spot to park, but Dare’s nerve endings went on full alert as the car pulled into a spot across the row and parked. A minute later, the driver exited the car and glanced around, checking to make sure the coast was clear.

“Can you zoom in on the driver?” Sawyer asked.

Thompson zoomed in, but the image quality was grainy. On the screen they watched a man wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses make quick work of swapping the plates. Once he was done, he climbed back into the Chevy then disappeared as quickly as he had come, his features obscured by the low resolution of the camera.

Dare bit back a curse. He hadn’t truly expected much more than that. “Thanks for your help.” He nodded to Thompson as he and Sawyer moved toward the door. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”

Silence stretched between them as they left the office and climbed into the cruiser. Once inside, Sawyer spoke. “So the guy boosts the Chevy and chooses the airport because there are a thousand cars to choose from. And how many people check their license plates before getting in the car?”

“Pretty much,” Dare confirmed. “Probably picked the BMW thinking it was a businessperson who would be traveling most of the week and wouldn’t notice right away. He swaps the plates, then leaves. So where the hell is the Chevy now?”

“I’ll get a BOLO issued and find out.”