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“Got it. What time did she make those calls, and how long was she on?”
“She called the first number at seven last night and it was only one minute. She probably left a message. Then the last call was one minute later, and she talked for nine minutes.”
Ballard wrote the information down on a fresh page in her notebook.
“What was the call before that?” she asked.
“That was to me,” he said. “She said you were mad about the password. I am very—”
“We can skip that one for now. Go to the one before that.”
Persson gave her a number with a 714 area code and told her the call lasted twenty-nine minutes.
“When was the call made?”
“It began at four thirty-three and lasted until five oh-two.”
Ballard wrote it all down, then flipped back to her previous notes. She found the page where she had written down the information Hatteras gave her about Andrew Bennett. The number Persson had just given her matched the number Bennett listed below his bio on the real estate website.
“Does it say whether this was an outgoing or incoming call?” she asked.
“Outgoing,” Persson said. “These are all outgoing calls.”
Hatteras had called Bennett and they had talked for almost half an hour.
“Okay, previous to that?” Ballard said. “Any other calls yesterday?”
“She made a call yesterday morning at nine twenty,” Persson said. “That was to me too.”
“And what was that about?”
Ballard heard the door on the other side of the murder archive shelves open and then a pair of shoes walking on the linoleum.
“One of us called the other every day,” Persson said. “You know, just to check in and see what was going on. She called me yest—”
“Uh, Anders, I have to go,” Ballard interrupted. “I’ll call you back if I need to, but for now you can stand down on that.”
“Do you want me to send this to you?”
Ballard saw Goring come out of the aisle that ran along the murder library.
“No, that’s fine,” Ballard said. “I’ll be in touch.”
She disconnected the call and greeted Goring. “Where’s your partner?”
“I left him in the neighborhood. He was knocking on doors and collecting video.”
Ballard nodded. The collecting of video from neighborhood Ring cameras and the like was often more important than finding witnesses. Cameras didn’t have memory issues and biases.
“Did you get anything good yet?” Ballard asked.
“The guy came into the neighborhood on foot,” Goring said. “Head down, wearing a hoodie. So far, no angles that would give us an ID. He was good. That sound like any of your persons of interest?”
“Sounds like it could be anyone. He broke in? What time?”
“We’re piecing together video—that’s why Winston is still outthere and I need to get back. But we have the guy entering the house at twelve thirty a.m. and leaving just before one. He was quick and it looked like he had a tool that opened the door.”
“What kind of tool?”
