Page 124 of D for Dead

‘Which ties in with the bag we’ve found,’ Jake muttered, glancing at Hickok.

The Fed nodded his head, as he thought things over. ‘How quickly do you think you can get a match?’ he asked Withers.

‘We’ll get it over to the lab now. Start working on it straightaway.’

‘Good.’ Hickok looked at Jake. ‘In the meantime, we’d better get another warrant – for the arrest of Ryan Caparelli.’

* * *

Rebecca struck gold with David Gavin late Saturday afternoon. She had been glad to get out on the road, to have some time alone with her thoughts so she could process what had happened the previous evening. Damn it! How had she not seen Alan’s proposal coming? She was a police detective, for chrissakes.

Because you weren’t interested. You’ve been too preoccupied with the case, and with Hickok.

She had kissed him. Hell, had they not been interrupted she would have done a lot more than just kiss him. What had she been thinking? But she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

Kissing Hickok had knocked it home that she didn’t feel the same passion for Alan. Yes, Alan might be kind and grounded and reliable, and the perfect choice for her mother, but without passion, was he the right choice for her?

‘Give it time,’ Sarah Angell had told her, when she had finally calmed down enough to have a rational conversation with her daughter. ‘The passion might not be there now, but you can grow to love him. Marriage isn’t just about attraction; it’s about companionship and having someone steady and supportive by your side.’

Rebecca wasn’t sure she agreed, but she kept her opinions to herself, figuring enough damage had been done. She had yet to speak with Alan; knew she had to have the conversation, but hadn’t been able to face up to it. For now it was easier to throw herself into her work.

She was down to a final four places to check and beginning to think they were wasting their time, that perhaps Gavin was holed up with a friend and they had been approaching this from the wrong angle, when she pulled into the parking lot of the Marine Bay Motel, a cheap looking establishment a few miles west on the coastal road and on the periphery of their search area.

A young girl, no older than eighteen, manned the reception, cowboy boots on the desk and popping gum as she read a magazine. She barely glanced up as Rebecca entered. From the number of keys hanging on the hooks behind the desk, not many of the rooms were let. No real surprise as the place was rundown and unappealing.

‘Good afternoon, my name is Detective Angell with the Juniper Police Department.’ Rebecca flashed her badge, stifling a laugh when the girl nearly fell off her chair trying to get her feet

down from the desk. She looked up at Rebecca, giving her full attention, expression anxious and expectant.

‘How can I help you?’

Rebecca passed her the picture of Gavin.

‘We’re looking for this man and believe he may be staying in the area. Have you seen him at all?’

She didn’t expect the girl to recognise Gavin. This place was further out of the city than the others she had checked and she had almost scrubbed it from the list, believing it to be a waste of time. So she was surprised when the girl nodded her head.

‘Yeah, I know him. He’s the guy in room twenty-six.’ She glanced at the register. ‘David Gavin.’

Rebecca’s heartbeat quickened. They were desperate for a lead. Was this the one they needed? ‘When did Mr Gavin check in?’

‘A couple of weeks back.’ The girl pulled a face. ‘Most people stop for the night, passing through on their way to someplace, but not him. Guess he’s new in town or something and needing a place to stay. He keeps himself to himself, paid to have the room for a month and in cash. My old man liked that. So how come you’re looking for him? Is he like a fugitive or something?’

‘Can you show me his room please?’ Rebecca asked, ignoring the question.

The girl shrugged. ‘I guess so.’

She pulled a ring of keys from a drawer in the desk, led Rebecca outside to the row of motel rooms. ‘He wanted one giving him privacy. Weird guy, didn’t even want maid service, but as I say, he paid cash a month up front, so we didn’t argue.’

They stopped outside the end room. Rebecca noted the cheap floral curtains were drawn.

‘I’d better knock in case he’s in there,’ the girl told her. ‘I doubt he is; he goes out a lot.’

She rapped her knuckles on the door, waited a moment before finding the key she needed. As she eased open the door, Rebecca smelt the stale odour of male sweat. The girl flicked on the switch, throwing light on to the unmade bed, the open suitcase with clothes piled high. Several empty bottles of beer sat on the floor and a half bottle of vodka was on the dresser, next to a fancy camera.

Rebecca entered the room, went to the camera and turned it on. It was digital and she flicked through the various shots, recognising the ones of Amy playing with her dog, the picture of Jake holding her.

So Gavin was their photographer. Was he also their killer?