33. Ozzie
CHAPTER 33
Ozzie
T he scents of old wood, new clothing, and gun powder greeted me as I stepped inside Parker Supply. I held the door for Chief Riggs, then offered Kent Morrison, the owner, a friendly smile when he greeted us.
“What can I do for you boys?” The old man, hands hooked under his bright red suspenders, came out from behind the glass counter that housed an array of knives and other hunting and fishing equipment.
My smile widened. He reminded me of Santa Claus. In more than just appearance. The man never met a stranger from what I could tell. From what others had said, he also put a lot of time and money into the community, working to make it a better place. Especially for the local youth.
“We were wondering if we could take a look at your surveillance footage,” Riggs said.
The smile on Mr. Morrison’s face dimmed and his bushy white eyebrows drew together. “My surveillance footage? What happened?”
“It’s in connection to Marie Hammond’s murder. We’re hoping you caught someone we’re looking for on camera,” I said.
His frown only deepened. “Here? She was murdered at home, though, right? That’s what the local gossip says, anyway.”
“That’s correct.” Riggs nodded once. “But we have a lead that might help us identify a person of interest. On December eighteenth, this individual was here, and he was talking to Mrs. Hammond. Do you keep footage back that far?”
Mr. Morrison’s expression opened. He nodded. “I do. I know the wheels of justice turn at a slower pace up here, so I keep twelve months of footage. Pay a pretty penny for it, but it’s worth it.” He motioned us forward. “Let’s go up to the office.”
Turning, he looked out at the store. “Kim! I’ll be in the office!”
From the distant corner a female voice replied, “Okay!”
I glanced that direction, but didn’t see anyone through the maze of racks and shelves. It was no wonder he had surveillance. It couldn’t be easy to catch thieves in a place like this.
The old man led us upstairs and unlocked a door, waving us inside. He rounded the desk and sat in the creaky leather seat, then woke up the computer monitor. “December eighteenth, you said?”
“Yes,” Riggs answered.
Morrison’s arthritic hands poked at the keyboard. “Do you have a ballpark on the time? That’s a lot of video to go through.”
“Late afternoon,” I said. “Between three and five.” Kaya said after school, but she didn’t say after dinner.
Finding the timestamp, Mr. Morrison left it paused, then got up from his chair. “You can do your thing.” He waved me into the seat.
I glanced at Riggs, who nodded, so I sat down.
“She said lingerie.” Riggs leaned in beside me and pointed at the screen.
The video footage was broken into sections by camera, so I clicked on the camera covering that part of the store, then hit fast-forward.
At the three-twenty-two mark, I spotted Marie. “Got her.” Slowing the video down, I let it play. She walked into the lingerie section and lightly touched a few things, but her gaze was focused elsewhere. She kept glancing through the racks.
It took another minute before a dark-haired man appeared. I paused and zoomed in, but the video distorted too much to see his face and as he got closer to the camera, he tipped his head down, then turned away.
“Follow him.” Riggs motioned to the screen. “Maybe we’ll catch a better view as he exits the store.”
I hit play again, watching their encounter. They talked for several seconds before Marie picked up a bra and held it to her chest.
“They’re definitely flirting,” I muttered.
Riggs nodded. “Yep.”
Several minutes after the encounter started, Kaya entered the scene. The man’s demeanor shifted immediately. His posture stiffened, and he quickly turned and walked away.
I pulled up a different camera angle, but he kept his face turned away.
The next camera was the same.
Finally, he reached the door. That one was mounted right over the exit, so there was no avoiding it, except to look down. Which he did.
My jaw worked. It bothered me that this guy seemed to know where all the cameras were. Why was he avoiding them? Had he stolen from the store before? Or was he wanted for something else?
“Back it up.” Riggs leaned closer.
I rewound it, then let it play at half-speed. Just as the man walked into view, his head was up. It was too far away to make out his features. I zoomed in. The footage pixelated, but not as much as it did near the lingerie section.
I tipped my head. “Does he look familiar to you?”
Frowning, Riggs studied the screen. “Yes. Make a copy of that and email it to yourself and to me. We’ll get forensics to enhance it.”
“Yep.” I was already working on it. The video was grainy and no one’s face was terribly clear until they were practically right in front of the camera.
But he still looked familiar.
“I know who that is, but I’ll be damned if I can put a name to him.” Riggs pushed upright. “It’s too blurry. There’s something about the way he carries himself, though.”
I agreed. I’d seen him before too. More than once for him to make such an impression. I just didn’t know where.
After copying the video to an email, I sent it off, then got up. “Thank you, Mr. Morrison.”
“Anytime, boys. Anytime.” Blue eyes sparkling with a pleasant smile, he led us out of the office.
Riggs and I piled into my patrol truck outside.
“I have some photography software on my personal computer,” I said. “I’m going to play around with it tonight, if you don’t mind. I’ll still get it over to forensics.” I liked to hike and take pictures, so I bought a photo editing program years ago. I might get results faster than our forensics unit.
“Not at all. I want to catch this son of a bitch.”
We made the quick drive back to the station, then immediately went our separate ways when Nina ambushed her boss the moment we stepped inside. The online reports system was down.
I hid my grin as I headed for my office. It was no skin off my back to leave my daily reports unfinished. It would make my morning tomorrow a little more hectic, but it left me free sooner to play around with the video footage.
Sitting down at my desk, I downloaded the video from my email, then sent it to forensics and my personal email so I could work on it at home.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out and glanced at the screen.
Ellis.
Frowning, and hoping everything was all right, I answered. “Hello?”
“Hey. This is your friendly reminder you need to eat. Claire’s friend Mina is here cooking up a storm. You should take a break.”
My stomach growled at the mention of food. It would have to wait, though. “Tell them to save me a plate. I’m not quite finished yet.”
Ellis sighed. “Oz…”
“I won’t be too late. There’s just something I need to do first. I’m close, El. I can see the end of this case.” I drummed my fingers on my desk, eager to head home. The man in the video was the key to all of this. I could feel it in my gut.
“Fine. But don’t count on seconds. Mina’s making elk stew, and it smells delicious.” Without saying goodbye, he hung up.
That did sound good, and my stomach made sure I knew it.
Food would have to wait. At least for a little bit. That nagging feeling I knew who was in the footage wouldn’t go away. I needed answers more than I needed food.
“Oh, Detective, I’m glad I caught you.”
I looked up to see Nina in the doorway. “Hi. What’s up?”
She walked in and held out a full-color flyer. “I forgot to put this in your mail stack. The deadline is in a few days.”
Accepting the paper, I glanced at it, reading over the information. “A law enforcement competition?”
Smiling, she nodded. “We enter one or two people each year.”
“I’ll look into it, thank you.” And I would, but I doubted I would enter. Not this year. I was still settling in.
“You’re welcome. Have a nice evening.” With a little wave, she left.
I set the paper on top of the pile of mail I already had going, then turned to my computer, closing windows, so I could shut it down.
My hand froze on the mouse as the zoomed-in photo of the sweatshirt from the crime scene came up on the screen.
Wait…
My chair protested as I leaned forward, bringing my face closer to the monitor. Was that?—?
I glanced at the flyer Nina just brought.
It couldn’t be.
Lifting the paper from the stack, I held it up to the screen.
The colors for the competition logo and the text placement matched.
Marie’s lover was a cop?
Oh, man.
My heart thudded.
This could be bad. We were a small department. Everyone was privy to this case, because everyone had been working it. Murders were an all-hands-on-deck kind of thing here.
Shit…
I speared my fingers through my hair and sat back, chair protesting again.
Who could I trust?
The chair screeched again as I quickly sat up. With several quick clicks, I closed out the rest of the windows on my computer and shut it down. Trading my patrol truck keys for my personal truck, I hurried out of the building.
More than ever, I needed to figure out who the man was in the video.