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Grabbing the pen attached to one of the folders, the detective said, “Victim’s name?”
“Gregory Pollack.” Hayes spelled it for her as she scribbled.
Finished, Elaina tapped the pen against the folder thoughtfully, studying Reese. “Your name came up in a homicide investigation this week.”
“Tyler Greenley.”
“Sounds like a pattern emerging. Someone’s determined to get you out of the way, and they don’t mind a permanent solution.”
It put a hitch in her heart to hear it phrased that way, but it was no less than the truth. “So it appears.”
“Any idea who?”
She hesitated. It was one thing to give Mendes the information they’d found last night about Gerald Rivers’s connection to Thorne and the vehicle found at the rental. But she was loath to bring up the attorney before the deputy had a chance to follow up with him. “No. I’m assuming Bradbury hasn’t been forthcoming.”
The woman gave Reese a sharkish smile. “He hasn’t said a word. And interestingly enough, he also hasn’t lawyered up, although he’s used his one phone call. Maybe he thinks he’s going to get some assistance, as well.” She closed the laptop and restacked the folders on it, indicating that the meeting was at an end. Pushing back her chair, she rose, saying, “I’ll reach out if we get anything else. I’d advise you to keep a low profile until this is over. You especially, Ms. Decody. Someone’s painted a pretty big target on your back.”
How would they know when this was over? Reese stood, and she and Hayes followed the detective out the door. Recapturing Thorne would eliminate a major threat, but she was beginning to believe that it wouldn’t necessarily banish the rest of them.
At this point, she was unsure what it would take to ever be completely safe again.
Unsurprisingly,Hayes persuaded the officer taking them home to hit a drive-through on the way. It took little urging for the policeman to add his order as well, and Reese was ready with payment. When they walked inside the motel room, it seemed smaller than before, even though Hayes had neatly remade the bed and folded it back into the couch. She wasn’t hungry yet, so she placed the salad she’d bought in the refrigerator and took out two bottles of water, setting one in front of him and then going to her bedroom to drag out the medical reports she’d brought along. Hayes was already eating—no shock there—with his cell in front of him, using his left hand to hold the sandwich and his right to text rapidly.
“Fastest thumb in the west,” she observed.
“Developed the skill in grad school. Comes in handy.”
“Bet it does, since you eat 24/7.”
“I have a fast metabolism.” He took a bite of the cheeseburger. Chewed, then swallowed. “What’d you do with your meal?”
“I’ll eat later.” Reese dropped into a chair and gingerly took one of the reports off the top of the pile. The interest that Kervin’s message had honed warred with her long-time avoidance of anything personal about Ben. Mentally, she steeled herself and began reading. She needed to learn as much about him as possible to verify or refute whatever the CNA had to tell her.
“I just let Mendes know that Loffler might be reaching out to him. And updated Adam.”
Reese wished they knew what had come of the visit with Rivers, but there was nothing to do to hasten that information,and busying themselves would make the time pass faster. Hayes switched to his laptop after he finished eating. She jotted down a few notes on the back of one of the reports as she read through them.
After an hour, she paused, working her back and shoulders. “What are you working on?”
“Hmm?” His reply was absent before he finally looked up. “I’m digging into Bradbury. I know I told Loffler to follow up there, but I’ve got time and some avenues I want to examine.” He nodded toward the stack of papers in front of her. “Looking for anything in particular?”
“Trying to find a physical description of Ben somewhere to compare to the image Kervin sent.”
“I didn’t see any photos, but I think there’s some height and weight notations included in a few of them.” His attention drifted back to the computer screen.
She’d run across one such instance. Impossible to tell if it applied to the person lying in the bed in the photo Kervin had sent. Reese wasn’t able to conclude much about the man’s build from the picture. Not for the first time, she felt a slither of unease when she thought of the CNA’s spying. Hayes was right—this could blow back on her if the man got caught. But that didn’t stem her interest in hearing him out.
It was bizarre to have no idea what her estranged brother looked like anymore. Her dad had been tall and dark-haired, but she’d seen plenty of pictures of him as a kid, and he’d once been as blond as teenaged Ben. Her mom, on the other hand, had remained blond like Reese. So maybe Ben’s hair had also darkened with age. It was maddening that maybes were all she had.
Something caught her eye in the header of the report, and she reached for the ones she’d finished to see if they bore the same detail. “What do you suppose A-level means on thesedocuments? I thought it might designate what part of the facility he was housed in, but that would likely be referred to as unit, not level.”
“Let me look.” She handed him the report and he studied it, frowning. The detail she indicated was at the top right in a small font. “I wouldn’t think it has anything to do with where his room is located. But something important enough to be included. Do they all have this? Because I didn’t notice it when I was looking at them.”
“Just a few of them.”
He straightened from the computer and flexed his hands. “Risk assessment level, maybe. A would be lowest and E highest.”
She mulled the suggestion over. “Risk for what? To the staff? Based on violent outbursts?” Kervin had mentioned observing Ben ‘losing it,’ but it’d been years since he’d seen her brother.