Chapter 11
The caller disconnected before stating the name of the group.
I figured it was a coin toss if this guy was full of it or not. Crackpots like to call in and feel important, but it was worth investigating.
I called Paris. "I need the name and number of the segment producer for the morning show.”
She gave me Darren’s info, and I called him.
It went to voicemail, and I left a message.
Then I called Isabella, gave her Darren’s number, and asked her to track incoming calls to his phone.
After a few taps of the keys, she told me, “That call came from a burner phone that was located at Key Bean.”
It was an eclectic coffee shop.
“Can you tell me where he was sitting?”
She could get pretty accurate, within a few feet. “Walk into Key Bean, look left. He was sitting near the window.”
“What happened to the phone after the call?”
“It went off grid.”
I thanked her for the info and updated JD.
He said goodbye to the girls, and we hustled to the parking lot and hopped into the van. In a few minutes, we were at Key Bean. The perp was likely long gone, but maybe somebody here had recognized him.
The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, along with morning chatter. At this time of day, it was a casual crowd. People typed on laptops, read books, and tried to perk up for the adventure that lay ahead.
The two tables on the left by the window were empty. A paper cup remained on the table closest to the door. We’d be able to recover DNA from it, but it probably wouldn’t do us much good at this point. There was no telling who it belonged to.
Jack collected the cup and bagged it as evidence.
I hurried to the counter, flashed my badge, and talked to the cashier. "There was a guy in here maybe an hour ago, sitting at that table,” I said, pointing. "He made a phone call. You remember seeing that guy?”
The clerk looked at me like I was crazy. "You know how many people come in and out of here?”
"Do you have any security footage?”
He shook his head. "No. Customers don't like that.”
"You don't remember anybody sitting at that table, talking on the phone?” I asked again.
He gave me an annoyed look, then just shook his head.
“I need to see the credit card receipts for everyone who's made a purchase in the last several hours.”
He gave me a funky look. "Um, I'll have to talk to my manager.”
"Then talk to your manager," I said.
I got the impression this guy didn't like cops.
In a lackluster voice, he called over his shoulder. "Janet! I need you to talk to this guy.”
She came over, and I explained the situation.
Fortunately, she was a little more amenable to letting me look through the credit card receipts.
She even let me photograph them. I would send the info to Isabella later.
If one of these credit cards had made a purchase of sulfuric acid, it would be telling.
I thanked Janet for her cooperation, then JD and I talked to some of the other patrons. Nobody remembered any details about the person sitting at the table. It was a dead end.
We left and headed back to the station, logged the credit card receipts and the paper cup as evidence, then set out to find Sebastian's ex-girlfriend. She was as good a place as any to start.
We returned to the van and drove across the island to the Nautilus Tower. It was a luxury high-rise with all the amenities and an on-site marina.
I pulled up to the valet, and the kid hustled around to grab my door. I hopped out, slipped a few bills into his palm, and told him to keep the van up front.
Rachel Hoffman lived in Unit #1612.
The concierge buzzed us in, and we hurried across the opulent lobby to the elevator. Jack pressed the button, and a moment later, the door slid open. We vaulted up to 16 and marched to Rachel’s unit. I rang the video doorbell.
Rachel’s voice crackled through the speaker a moment later. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”
I chuckled and flashed my badge to the lens. “We just need to ask you a few questions.”
“Is this about Sebastian’s girlfriend?”
“We’re hoping you might be able to add some valuable insight.”
“You think I’m a suspect,” she said.
Rachel was no dummy.
“A few questions, and we can cross you off the list,” I said with a disarming smile.
“I don’t look anything like the guy who attacked Ava. You’re wasting your time.”
“So you won’t mind coming to the door for a moment.”