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Before we can say another word, our phones buzz in tandem.
“It’s a text from Hale,” Nikki says, as we look down at our screen. “Suspicious vehicle caught on camera at the coffee shop across the street where Marsha Warren was last seen walking, the night she disappeared.”
The image on the screen is grainy and it looks to be a night shot pulled from the surveillance camera. It’s the front end of the car, and just above the headlight Marsha Warren is clearly visible in the frame, looking in the direction of the vehicle with interest. And then I see it.
Fallon and I look up at one another at the very same time.
It’s a blue sedan.
37
SPECIAL AGENT FALLON BAXTER
Three sharp knocks echo through the night air as Jack barks, “FBI, open up.”
I shoot him a look. “Subtle.”
“Subtlety isn’t my specialty.” He gives another three brisk knocks as Buddy sits dutifully beside him with his tail wagging and eyes locked on the door.
It took Nikki less than three minutes to track down Phillis Hazelwood’s address, and based on the info Phillis gave us earlier, we knew to head straight for the carriage house. Unlike the looming mansion to the right, which looks about as deserted as a ghost town, the carriage house is lit up like a jack-o’-lantern on one side.
“Coming,” a woman’s voice floats from inside, followed by soft footsteps.
Phillis opens the door, looking like she’s just stepped out of a skincare commercial. Her face is glossy with moisturizer, her lips are pale without her swath of orange lipstick, and she’s wearing a cotton floor-length nightgown that’s tattered near the hemline.
“We need to talk about your daughter,” Jack says with a touch of aggression surging in his voice.
I’ve already established he’s not subtle, and now I know he doesn’t waste time either. That must be what sucked me in. That and his hair. He’s got great hair.
And just like that, my fingers are twitching to run through it.
“My daughter?” Phillis blinks, clearly taken aback. “I don’t understand…”
The words hardly slip out before Jack launches into a volley of questions. “The accident, what do you know? Did you suspect anything?”
“As in foul play?” Phillis gasps while taking a step back. “My goodness, no!” She seems genuinely shocked. Her hand is pressed to her chest as if we’ve just insulted her entire family lineage. “Do you know something?”
“Nothing more than what we’ve read,” I tell her. “Is there something that you know other than that?”
“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “I don’t have anything in that regard. Of course, when Maddie passed, it was all a blur. What’s sponsoring this?”
“The talk this evening,” I tell her. “We were curious, so we did some digging. Your daughter was alone when she slipped and fell, so we thought we’d probe.”
“It’s our job,” Nikki says before taking a step forward. “Phillis, can you tell us a little about the infinity symbol that’s under your name on your book?”
Phillis gives a weak shrug as her eyes dart between us. “It represents eternity, I guess. I’m not good at all that logos and brands thing. Brenda helped me come up with it.”
“But you’re the one who ran with it,” Nikki presses. “Do you have any experience with welding?”
For goodness’ sake. I shoot her a look.
Remind me to never let her come along on a shakedown after she gets a little booze in her system.
Phillis blinks back. Her surprise is so raw it strikes me as innocent—and my gut translates that as she might be innocent of what we’re insinuating as well. My stomach tightens in a knot at the thought of it. If Phillis is innocent, that means we’ve hit another dead end. And if we’ve hit another dead end, that means another dead body will most likely show up.
“Did you say welding?” She gapes at Nikki before glancing at each of us as if inspecting our sanity. I’m starting to do the same. “And why in the world would I need to know welding?”
Nikki sighs hard. “The infinity symbol. I’m betting you’ve got one around here somewhere, and we’re not leaving until we find it.”