Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,58
by surprise.
“The fact that he’s here today shrinks the odds he’s our guy,” Jacob said.
“That’s if you buy the hit-man-from-Chicago theory.”
He looked at Kendra. “You don’t?”
“It’s the best we’ve got so far, but we certainly haven’t proved it.”
“Either way, he might know something. He could be a witness.”
Reynolds crouched beside the Jeep and untied something from his shoelace. A key fob. He unlocked the Jeep and opened the door, then stripped off his T-shirt and tossed it in the back.
Kendra gave a deep sigh. “Wow.”
Jacob looked at her.
“What? The man’s hot. Look at him.”
Jacob pushed open his door. “We doing this, or what?”
“You talk. I’ll observe.”
A suspect interview was like a dance, and he and Kendra had their choreography down pat after years of partnership. They moved together through the conversation, communicating silently as they sussed out weaknesses and zeroed in on the best way to exploit them. Working in tandem, they almost always extracted more information than they would have working alone.
They crossed the parking lot as their witness-suspect took a long swig from a bottle of water and set it on the Jeep’s roof. Then he grabbed a new T-shirt and pulled it over his head.
He caught sight of Jacob and Kendra and instantly went on alert.
“Christopher Reynolds?” Jacob held up his ID.
“Yeah.” His gaze went to Kendra, whose hand rested on the butt of her Glock.
“We’d like a word,” Jacob said.
“About what?”
“Is this your vehicle?”
His gaze narrowed. “Yes.”
“Do you jog here every morning?”
“It’s free parking. I’m in a space.”
“Do you jog here every morning?” Jacob repeated.
The man watched him, and Jacob saw the moment he realized that he and Kendra weren’t here to issue parking tickets. He’d probably seen something about the murder on the news.
Jacob watched the man’s eyes, gauging his reaction, and he knew Kendra’s attention was on his hands. Reynolds didn’t look panicked or threatened. His blue eyes showed wariness. And just enough curiosity to wipe out Jacob’s slim hope that this might be their guy.
“I jog here most days.” He rested his hands on his hips. “Why?”
“Does this woman look familiar to you?” Kendra held out a paper. It showed a photograph of Dana Smith that Celeste Camden had provided to police.
Reynolds glanced at the paper. “No.”
“Look again, please.”
He took the paper and gave it a longer look. “I don’t recognize her.”
“What about this one?” Kendra handed over another photograph. The shot was more candid, and Dana was smiling and had a cat in her lap.
The man’s expression changed as he studied the picture. “I don’t know her, but she looks familiar.” He glanced at Kendra. “Why?”
The tone of his voice told Jacob he knew who this was.
“This woman was murdered on the trail Saturday morning,” Kendra stated.
Reynolds held the picture out to her. “Well, I don’t know her. I might have seen her around, but—”
“Did you see her Saturday?” Jacob asked.
“No.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“I don’t know.” He shot a worried look at Kendra. He was getting nervous now. But it was the mild kind of nervous, the kind anyone might get from being approached out of nowhere by a pair of homicide cops. Not the kind that reeked of guilt.
Kendra took back the picture. “Relax, Mr. Reynolds, this is a routine canvass. We’ve talked to dozens of people on the trail this week. We’re trying to find out if anyone saw anything suspicious or out of the ordinary on Saturday or any other day, all right?”
He nodded.
“Now, can you look again?” She held up the second photo. “You said you’ve seen her around. Do you recall if that was Saturday?”
He took a deep breath and blew it out, then settled his gaze on the photo.
“Maybe,” he said.
“Maybe?”
“I saw her recently. I think it was Saturday.”
Kendra nodded. “Do you remember what time?”
“No.” He wiped the tail of his T-shirt over his mouth. “Sometime before my run. She might have been over there by the lamppost.”
“Doing what?” Jacob asked.
“Stretching. I think she started behind me.”
“And you’re sure this was Saturday?” Kendra asked.
“Yeah. I remember now because I didn’t have my Airpods in. Usually, I do, but I left them at home.”
“What else do you remember about Saturday?” Kendra kept her tone low-key, but she and Jacob were both on high alert now.
“I don’t know.” He raked his hand through his shaggy brown hair. “It was a regular day. Hot. And humid, too. We had that rain later.”
Jacob waited, watching him, looking for anything off—even the slightest hint that he was