Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,22
of shoes.”
“Five, counting the ones in evidence.”
“Okay, five.” Jacob stepped over to the window and parted the mini blinds. A line of clouds was moving in, and they might be in for some rain again today. “How many do you have?”
“What? Shoes?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. Twenty pairs?”
“Right, and you don’t even like clothes. I’ve been in a lot of victims’ homes and this one is strange.”
“Maybe it’s a love nest, and she lives someplace else.”
Jacob had considered that, too. “What’s the employer say about Dana’s social life? She know if she had a boyfriend? There’s no evidence of a man here. No extra toothbrush or men’s clothes or condoms.”
“That was my first question, and no. This woman said she isn’t aware of anyone.”
“Friends?”
“Nope.”
“What about family in town?” Jacob asked.
“I asked about next of kin, but she doesn’t know. Said Dana had only been working there eight months.”
“So, she knows nothing about this woman, yet she trusts her with her kid. What’s this woman do for a living?”
“Her name’s Celeste Camden, and she’s an associate professor over at UT. Teaches cultural anthropology or something.”
“And her husband?”
“She’s a widow.”
There went another potential suspect.
“We need to get her in for an interview,” Jacob said.
“She’s on her way, and I asked her to bring photos. She said she has some of Dana and her daughter.”
Jacob combed his hand through his hair with frustration. He had a tentative ID, finally, but touring the apartment had teed up a whole new list of questions.
He returned to the kitchen and snapped a photo of the phone charger and a close-up of the cord. He wanted to see whether it was a fit with the phone recovered from the woods behind the juice bar.
“Jacob? You there?”
“I need to get back to the station and run some things,” he said. “Then I want to get forensics in here. This could be a secondary crime scene.”
“All right. Find me when you get here.”
Jacob returned to his car with the leasing agent’s key still in his pocket. He wanted to make sure he could get into the apartment again and didn’t want anyone else sweet-talking the agent into granting access.
Rain started to come down as Jacob headed across town. Dana Smith’s apartment felt off, and it wasn’t just the lack of clothes. People’s homes tended to have more personal touches, particularly women’s homes. It looked like Dana had just moved in, but according to the lease, she’d been there eighteen months. He’d have to come back and interview some of the neighbors.
Jacob’s phone dinged in the cup holder as he got a text from Bailey.
WORD IS U HAVE POSSIBLE IDENT?
He eyed the phone. Bailey clearly had some sources within the department. But they couldn’t be very high-ranking, or she wouldn’t keep hitting him up for info. He resolved to call her later when he firmed things up.
As Jacob pulled into the police station parking lot, his phone buzzed. The caller ID read US GOV.
“Shit,” he muttered. He slid into a space and picked up.
“Merritt.”
“Hey, it’s Morgan.”
Of all the government numbers that might have called him, he’d somehow known this would be his ex. He didn’t know whether she was in town or calling from the San Antonio field office.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” she said. “We need to meet.”
“I can’t do it right now. I’m in the middle of something.”
“It’s about Dana Smith.”
Jacob looked at his phone, startled. “Where did you get that? We haven’t even confirmed her ID yet.”
“You won’t,” Morgan said. “It’s an alias. She’s one of ours.”
CHAPTER
EIGHT
THE COFFEE SHOP across from the federal courthouse was crowded, but Jacob spotted Special Agent Morgan Young immediately. At five eleven, she towered over the other people in line. As usual, she had her phone pressed to her ear, but she paused the call to place her order with the barista.
Jacob claimed a stool by the window. He had a view of the courthouse steps where a steady flow of prosecutors, paralegals, and harried-looking assistants streamed back and forth.
“Thanks for meeting me.”
Jacob turned around. Morgan wore a navy skirt and heels, which told him she planned to be in court later. And she was using her business voice, which told him to forget about kissing her hello.
“Hi.” He nodded at the empty stool beside him. She cast a glance at the coffee counter before taking the seat. Morgan had straight dark hair, and she’d chopped it since the last time he’d seen her almost a year ago.
“You plan to order anything?” she