I pull into the Chinese parking lot and then pull my phone out. “What would you like?” I ask her.
“Spicy pepper steak and some Lo Mein,” she tells me.
I dial the number and place our order.
“Okay, so what else did you find out?” I ask her as we sit in the car and wait for our order to be ready.
“After speaking with Courtney’s mom, I decided to go back to the train station and see if I could find Stefan, the gentleman Nora spoke with this morning.”
“Did you find him?”
“I did. He was still at the train station, helping to load a train bound for New York. I told him who I was, and he begrudgingly agreed to speak with me. I bought him a coffee, and we sat down for a chat. I wanted to gauge his answers for myself about his thoughts on the cameras. He was adamant that his friend was not a killer, which was to be expected. I also asked him if he knew if there was a chance that Cavanaugh didn’t just keep things on his laptop. His response, “was ask him.”
“He didn’t know his friend was killed,” I say, keeping up with her conversation.
“Unfortunately, that was when I had to inform him of the circumstances. The man went quiet, I didn’t know if he was going to cry or punch something.”
“What did he end up doing? Wait, hold that thought, our food is ready,” I tell her before getting out of the car and walking into the restaurant to pick up our order.
When I get back into the car, I hand her the bag to hold, and I drive us to the house.
“So, what did he do?” I ask, getting us back into the conversation.
“He got up, mumbled something about being right back, though to be honest, I didn’t think he would come back.”
“But he did?”
“Yeah, and with a surprise. He handed me this,” she says, pulling a thumb drive from her coat pocket.”
“Huh? Does he think you are into voyeurism?” I ask, completely dumbfounded.
“No. When he handed me this, he told me Cavanaugh told him should anything happen to him, this needs to go to the police, so he held onto it, agreeing. He’s pretty sure that it’s of the murder that Cavanaugh witnessed,” she tells me with excitement gleaming in her eyes.
“Well, it looks like we are having dinner and a show tonight,” I tell her, and she laughs as I pull into the driveway.
I lead us into the house, “Here, I’ll take care of the food, and you set up the TV,” I tell her.
I get plates and dish our food out, and when I get back to the living room, she already has the laptop and TV ready to go.
We both sit on the couch, and she hits play while we both eat.
I thought we would be seeing the first couple that was killed, however we are watching the last couple. They have one hell of a make-out session before taking things further. When the killer shows up, we both set our plates down on the coffee table and move to the edge of the couch to stare at the screen.
We watch the killer sit in the seat behind the couple, true to Cavanaugh’s word, the killer is in a black hoodie, with the hood pulled up. The killer stands up and slices the female’s neck in one swift move. The camera changes angles and the look on the killer’s face.
“Oh my God, I’ve seen that face before,” Mya exclaims.
“Come on, we have to go, now,” I tell her, jumping up from the couch, grabbing the keys, and running out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Three
MYA
I run after Shane, getting into the car, as he backs it up and puts it in drive. “Damn, I should have seen this,” he says.
I don’t tell him that I had my suspicions, but God, I really had hoped I was wrong, but there is no disputing it now.
Shane is on the phone with Commander Doyle, as he drives with the lights and sirens, requesting backup be sent.
The question is, what is she going to do? She’s been hiding for so long.
Shane turns his sirens off so as not to alert her of our presence. He turns up a long driveway. It’s a nice property, a small farmhouse with a barn to the side. He pulls up front, and we both get out. She walks out onto the porch as we stand at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her.
“Shane, Mya, what are you doing here?”
“Hey Nora, we need to talk with you,” Shane says.
She looks at both of us, assessing, then she says, “You know.”
Shane nods, then asks, “Why?”
“Because her husband cheated on her with her best friend, his assistant. When did you learn she was pregnant with your husband’s baby, Nora?”
I hear Shane’s sharp breath intake.
“I knew something was off for a while, but I thought it was our work schedules. The homicide rate was up, Detectives were leaving or retiring, and I was getting called out to more scenes. He was always working late, and we were barely seeing each other,” she says, tears filling her eyes.
