Chapter 23 #2
Elena disappeared into another room and soon returned carrying two thick photo albums bound in burgundy leather.
The covers were worn smooth by frequent handling.
She returned to the couch and opened the first album.
She flipped though carefully revealing page after page of memories preserved beneath plastic sheets until she found the group she wanted.
“Mother documented everything. She always said memories fade but photographs last forever.” Elena flipped through pages of photos showing children playing in snow, neighborhood barbecues, birthday parties, and quiet moments.
Then she stopped at a page near the back, pointing to a specific photo. “Here’s one. Christmas morning that last year before Lisa died.”
Flint leaned forward and stared at the photographs. Clear color images showed Lizzy Pace and three small children in a living room decorated for Christmas. A small artificial tree stood in the corner, lights twinkling against reflective tinsel that caught the camera flash.
Wrapped presents covered the floor around the tree in bright paper creating a festive explosion of reds and greens. The children were laughing, faces bright with the joy that only Christmas morning could bring.
Flint stared at the photographs. Standing behind the kids with Lisa, smiling broadly with genuine warmth, was a young man in his early twenties.
Dark hair fell across his forehead in a way that suggested the kids had mussed it.
His flannel shirt showed wrinkles that might have come from crawling around on the floor.
His build was exactly as Mrs. Kline had described. Tall and strong, with the kind of physique that came from outdoor work.
But it was Frankie Tantanella’s expression that struck Flint. He wasn’t posing for the camera or trying to look good. He was completely focused on the kids with the kind of unguarded affection that couldn’t be faked.
His left hand was visible in one photo, positioned on the shoulder of one of the boys, and the small scar in the webbing between his thumb and index fingers was exactly as Patel had described it.
“Is this him?” Flint asked, pointing to the photo.
Tantanella’s face was clearly visible in multiple shots from different angles, creating a photographic record that any decent facial recognition system could analyze. The lighting was good, the focus sharp, and his features were unobscured.
“Yes, that’s Frankie,” Elena said softly with fond remembrance. “Mother took these on Christmas morning. Lisa had invited her down to watch the children open presents. Mother was so touched to be included.”
Drake pulled out his phone and took high-resolution pictures of the photographs, making sure to capture every detail and angle. The phone’s camera flash reflected off the plastic sleeves around the photos, but the images remained clear and distinct.
“Do you mind if we borrow this photo?” Flint asked, pointing to the group photo of Lisa, Frankie, and the kids.
“Of course. If it helps Lisa’s children to know more about their mom, that’s exactly what my mother would have wanted.” Elena carefully removed the photo from the album as if she were handling a religious artifact. She handed the photo to Flint, who slid it into his jacket pocket.
“Any idea where Frankie is now?” Drake asked.
Elena shook her head slowly, as if she were thinking about the question carefully.
“If you recall anything more about Frankie Tantanella or Lisa and the kids, here’s my card.” Flint gave her a business card as they left. “Anything at all might be helpful.”
Outside, snow was falling more heavily now, transforming Ravenswood into a winter postcard. The flakes grew smaller and more persistent, accumulating steadily. The temperature had dropped enough that Flint’s breath formed visible clouds in the frigid air.
They sat in the SUV with the engine running and the heater working overtime, examining the Christmas photos on Drake’s phone. The interior felt warm and secure against the storm building outside.
“Clear facial shots from multiple angles,” Drake noted. “High quality images with good lighting. We can use these.”
Flint said, “We’ll get Gaspar to run the photos through facial recognition before we take them to Jason Fisher.”
“You think Fisher might know Tantanella?” Drake asked. “Or that Lizzy knew him before, in Kentucky?”
“Makes sense. Tantanella shows up in Ravenswood, out of the blue, and all of a sudden Lisa has an instant boyfriend who is playing with the kids and attending Christmas celebrations. It’s odd when we’ve been told repeatedly that Lisa kept to herself and had few friends,” Flint replied as he fished out his sat phone to call Gaspar.
“At the very least, we need to rule it out.”
“You don’t trust our client?” Drake asked, mildly surprised.
Flint shrugged. “I’m a belt and suspenders guy. You already know that about me.”
“What are you worried about?”
“Not sure. With a guy like Jason Fisher, you never see his hole cards. Never really know what kind of game he’s playing,” Flint replied.
“So you think he’s hiding something?”
“Of course, he is,” Flint said flatly just before Gaspar picked up. “I’m sending you a photo of Lizzy Pace and the three Fisher kids. There’s a guy with them. We think his name is Frankie Tantanella. Can you check him out?”
“Got it. What do you need to know about him?” Gaspar asked. “Criminal history, current location, things like that?”
“Give me the whole nine yards,” Flint replied before he disconnected the call.