Fatal Exposure - By Gail Barrett Page 0,49

“I’d watched him open the store and knew the code for his alarm, so I snuck inside that night and developed the film. The next morning, as soon as the library opened, I hid the negatives here. Then I mailed the prints to the police and left town.”

They reached the top of the stairs. She paused, a shadow flickering through her eyes. “I’ve always felt bad about that, that I left without saying goodbye after all he’d done for me. But I couldn’t drag him into my mess.”

Parker’s heart rolled, impressed like hell that she’d tried to protect her friends while her life was on the line. “You ever talk to him again?”

She shook her head. “He’s retired now. His nephew took over the shop. But I stopped by a few years ago and left him a package with some of my original prints.” Another smile crinkled her eyes. “I’m sure he already knew who I was, though. He would have recognized my technique.”

And considering the price her photographs now commanded, she’d more than repaid him for any supplies.

But as Parker accompanied her down the hall to the Fine Arts room, he couldn’t shake his growing unease. Because the truth was, the more he learned about Brynn, the less he believed the Colonel’s claim that she was mentally unhinged. On the contrary, he admired her. She’d managed to survive despite formidable odds.

But if she didn’t have psychological problems, if she wasn’t the lying manipulator his boss claimed, why had he asked Parker to bring her in?

Not sure he liked the conclusions he was beginning to draw, Parker set that problem aside. He’d think about Brynn and her stepfather later, after they’d found that film.

“This way,” she said, her voice low.

Parker nodded to the librarian manning the Fine Arts desk, then followed Brynn down the carpeted aisle past multiple stacks of books. On the back wall was a built-in cabinet, consisting of dozens of narrow drawers.

“This is it,” she said, coming to a stop.

“You put them here? In this cabinet?”

“It’s where they store their sheet music. I was afraid to put the negatives inside a book in case it got checked out. I was looking for someplace permanent where they wouldn’t be disturbed. So I decided to hide them behind a drawer.”

Admiring her logic, Parker surveyed the wooden drawers. “I don’t suppose you remember which one?”

“Not exactly. I know it was close to the floor. I didn’t think anyone would notice it if I put them down low.”

She knelt on the rug and opened a drawer while Parker did the same. Both drawers were empty. Brynn frowned. “It looks like they moved the music. I hope they didn’t inspect the cabinet and look behind the drawers.”

She removed the drawer and set it aside, then peered into the empty space. She reached in and felt around, then put the drawer back in. “They’re in an envelope. I was going to tape it to the bottom of a drawer, but I noticed that part of the panel on the wall was loose, right where two sections joined. So I slipped the envelope inside the loose part, with just the edge sticking out.”

“Good thinking. Tape probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.”

He started on the row above her, removing the drawers, checking for signs of an envelope, feeling the back panel for give. The minutes ticked quietly by. A few curious patrons strolled past, but no one questioned them.

Parker’s thoughts wandered back to the case—the missing necklace and photos, Erin Walker’s death, the murdered prostitute. But despite his attempts to connect them, the clues still didn’t make sense. He needed to call his supervisor, Sergeant Delgado. As much as the man annoyed him, he had worked in the gang unit. Parker needed to find out what he knew—before their time ran out and that gang caught up.

“Parker.” Her urgent whisper drew his gaze. Excitement brimmed in her eyes. “I found it!”

He closed his drawer and knelt beside her. His anticipation mounting, he watched as she reached into the cabinet and pulled out a yellowed, business-size envelope. She flipped it over and broke the seal, then took out a handful of plastic sleeves, the negatives still inside.

His heart skidded hard. He suddenly found it hard to breathe. At last. He could see what had happened in that warehouse the day that Tommy had died.

“I’m not sure how much they’re going to tell us,” she cautioned.

But he finally had a chance to find out.

* * *

It took