“We were talking about cameras on the ATMs, how convenient it was that the ATM used didn’t happen to have a working camera as part of its security.”
“Okay,” Brandon said.
“We were made aware of this during that poacher case. You remember?”
“Sure.”
“So did Deputy Blompier. He mentioned it to me. Reminded me.”
“You lost me, I think.”
“All those trees, the forest as thick as it is where we found the rental—it occurred to me at the time that it was a miracle it threw off any kind of heat signature.”
“Now I know you lost me.”
“Gilly Menquez told me he found the truck because of its heat signature. The poacher case? Menquez handled that for the Forest Service. He knew that ATM didn’t have a camera.”
“Menquez?” Brandon couldn’t believe it.
“We need a way to prove it. What about traffic cams?” Walt asked.
“What traffic cams? We don’t have any traffic cams.”
“You and I know that, but is that common knowledge?”
“If I knew where you were going with this, Sheriff, maybe I could help.” Brandon stood out of the chair, making it look normal-sized again.
“Nancy!” Walt shouted, forgoing the intercom. “Get me Kenshaw.”
“I’m on it!” she shouted back.
Brandon, his face a mass of confusion, pointed out the office door, miming his request to leave. Walt assented.
“Sometime today would be good!” Walt called out to Nancy.
“I said: I’m on it.”
Walt addressed Brandon saying, “Find Gilly. Get him down here for a chat.”
“Menquez? How am I supposed to do that?”
“I’m not asking, I’m ordering,” Walt said.
His phone rang. She’d put him through.
Shaking his head, Brandon took off.
Walt answered the phone. “Sheriff?” Fiona said, sounding ever so professional.
“I need you,” Walt said.
For the sake of security and secrecy, there was no window in the door of the office’s Incident Command Center. But Walt felt as if he could see inside to where Fiona was working at his request. He stood outside the door as agitated as an expectant father, the prosecuting attorney’s voice ringing in his ears. Finally, he summoned the courage to knock and let himself in.
“Why?” he asked her. She sat all alone in the room, dwarfed in what could pass as a lecture hall, her laptop connected to a large hi-def television screen.
“Why what?” she said, breaking her attention away from the screen.
“The Engletons turned down my request to search the property.” He felt confused by the look of surprise on her face.
“I didn’t know,” she said.
“Why? Why would they do that?”
“I warned you: they’re private.”
“It’s a murder investigation.”
“It’s their home. Their sanctuary. Leslie is . . . I tried to warn you. She’s all about energy centers. Chakras. She would see this as a violation of everything she’s built up there. The peace and tranquility. A bunch of men she doesn’t know going through her things. It’s just who she is. It’s nothing personal or intentional.”
“You actually believe that?”
“You think I asked her to refuse you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Your face just did.”
“I need this search,” he said, his frustration vented. “Kira needs for me to do this search.”
“You’re welcome onto the property. You know that.”
“It needs to be a legal, authorized search.”
“I contacted them. That’s about all I can do.”
“You could do more,” he blurted out.
“You’re welcome,” she said.
He took a few steps closer, half the room still separating them.
“You know how this is going to look, don’t you?”
“How’s it going to look?”
“Are you protecting her?”
“Do you really have to ask that?”
“Is that your answer?”
“If you’re asking would I go to great lengths to protect an innocent girl who’s seen more than her fair share of things, then I would answer yes. After what she’s been through, she certainly doesn’t deserve to be dragged through something like this when her only crime is embarrassment. But if you’re asking if I’ve actually done anything like that, the answer is no. But don’t count me out, Sheriff. I will not allow anyone, not even you, to mess her up at a time she is finally getting her act together. Leave her out of this, please.”
“I know this is difficult.”
“You seem to be blaming me for the Engletons’ decision when all I do is live there. You wanted to reach them and I reached them. Damn quickly, I might add. And this is the thanks I get!”
“Thank you,” he said.
“That’s better. Is there anything else? Because I was actually busy volunteering my time to help you with these images.”
“I’m not the enemy,” he said, speaking in a whisper.