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“To which question? You were throwing them out at me nearly all at once,” he said.
She released a deep breath. “Turkey.”
He lifted a brow. “Turkey?”
“Yes. You asked what I had a taste for. A turkey sandwich with pepper-jack cheese. Melted. There’s a place around here that makes the best sandwiches.”
He nodded. “A sandwich sounds good, but I prefer ham and cheese.”
“Whatever. So tell me, what insurance company beat you guys to that video footage?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then said, “First of all, let’s get something straight. Like I stated the other day, although you’re working for the defense, I work for law enforcement. Not for the prosecution or the defense. I work for justice in bringing the person responsible for killing Barcos to justice. If there was a legitimate setup, like the defense attorney’s client claim, then my job is to gather the facts to prove it or disprove it. Like you, I want to know not only what happened that night, but what led to it. I’m not on a power kick to get a conviction. I want the truth.”
She thought he had certainly said a mouthful, and she had gotten the meaning of every word. “Alright, Detective Connors, so tell me about the insurance company that got the video footage before you and Tomlin had a chance to do so.”
For a minute, he didn’t say anything. Then he said. “The insurance company exists, but not the name of the individual shown on that business card. They said he didn’t work for them.”
Hollis wasn’t surprised and had suspected as much. “I hope you know the perps seem to be using the same tactics on you guys they used on Karl Halifax.”
He frowned. “Not necessarily. I hope you don’t think assuming that will get Halifax off the hook.”
“You know, Connors, there is such a thing as reasonable doubt, and I hate to say this, but it seems whoever is orchestrating this isn’t helping you guys at all.”
“The person didn’t hinder our investigation since we pulled a backup copy that had been uploaded to the cloud, Ms. Calloway. If they were smart, they would have known we could do that.”
She agreed, which made her wonder whether the guy posing as someone from the insurance company was the same one who met with Karl. She didn’t honestly think so. The guys who pretended to be agents seem to have everything together and leave nothing to chance. However, she wasn’t sure about the guy who took that footage.
“What about the gun Karl used to shoot Barcos?”
“The serial number was wiped out. Intentionally and totally, so our people couldn’t trace anything.”
She turned into the sandwich shop parking lot. There were channels that could be used to trace a gun whose serial number had been obliterated. He had stayed at the academy long enough to know that, so why was he making it seem as if it was a dead end? She wondered if either he or Tomlin had even taken the time to have their lab look at it.
She had a few more questions for him that she would cover over lunch.
***
“So, you married Ryan Miller.”
She glanced at Detective Connors over the rim of her glass of iced tea. “Since it wasn’t a question, I take it that you know I did.”
“He was an okay guy, but I didn’t think he was your type.”
She honestly didn’t want to talk about her ex. Still, she wondered what he’d assumed her type was at the time. “Well, I thought he was my type. Anyone can make a mistake, and Ryan was mine.”
Before he asked for details, she asked her own question, getting things back to business. “Who’s handling the issue of the fake FBI agents at the Tampa Bureau?”
His smile let her know he was aware she was changing the subject. “Not sure there’s any one particular person. Tomlin and I met with Special Agent Jack Wells.”
“Thanks for the name. I plan to talk to him myself.”
“Good luck with that. Getting information out of him was like pulling teeth. He wasn’t at all cooperative or friendly, for that matter. But then, most FBI agents aren’t when they work with local cops.”
“Yes, it can certainly become one big pissing contest,” she said, smiling. “All those egos, competitive attitudes, and overabundance of pride and arrogance.”
He shrugged. “It’s not that bad.” After taking a sip of his drink, he asked, “How did Nyla Roker escape from that house?”
“Don’t you know?” she countered. There was no way she would tell him about the tunnel. He would find out eventually.
