Chapter Nineteen
Sharp sat next to Tuckey’s desk at the Scarlet Falls Police Station.
The SFPD hadn’t changed much since Sharp had been on the force.
Some of the faces were different, but the beat-up desks and filing cabinets looked exactly the same, because they were exactly the same.
The small town didn’t have the budget for furniture upgrades.
Tuckey gestured toward his computer screen, where the bar surveillance videos played in multiple windows on the computer.
They’d already watched the front entrance feed twice, noting the time Nicki and her date had arrived and left the restaurant.
Now the video of the bar area played in the center of the screen.
Tuckey attacked the keyboard. “Give me one second.”
While he typed, Sharp casually scanned his messy desk. Tuckey had been writing reports. His personal notepad lay in the center of his blotter. Sharp squinted to read Tuckey’s notes upside down.
Cody Vass
1226 State Street, #278
Scarlet Falls
Sharp committed the name and address to memory.
“Here we go.” Tuckey tapped the “Enter” key with a dramatic forefinger. “I want to start with the same video we watched last night. I want your eyes on it too, to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
They rewatched the camera covering the lounge area, including the table where Nicki and Cody sat. Sharp leaned in to get a closer look. He didn’t take his gaze off Cody’s hands. He barely blinked.
Tuckey stopped the video when Nicki ran for the bathrooms. “He did not put anything in her beer. Not at the table, anyway.”
The cop’s comment piqued Sharp’s interest. “Did he have another opportunity?”
“Maybe,” Tuckey said. “I watched the feed from earlier in the evening to make sure that Nicki’s date didn’t lie, that he hadn’t been in the bar before their date to scope out the place.”
“Was he?” Sharp asked.
“Again, maybe if we’re splitting hairs.” Tuckey opened another window to play the video covering the bar cash register. He dragged his mouse backward. “We’ll start at seven o’clock.” He played the video in quadruple time.
The camera didn’t cover the entire room.
About 20 percent of the bar area wasn’t visible, but no one could approach the bartender or front-facing portion of the bar without passing through the camera’s view.
At seven o’clock, there was no sign of Nicki’s date, but Dylan Sanders arrived at 7:15.
He’d gone directly to the bar, ordered a drink, and scanned the other patrons.
He zeroed in on an attractive young woman and worked his way over to her.
They flirted. He bought drinks and tried to cozy up.
The young woman skillfully avoided his straying hands while accepting the free booze.
Dylan’s maneuvers looked almost comical on the sped-up video—as did his growing frustration.
“My niece also knows this guy.” Sharp pointed to Dylan. “The one hitting up the woman half his age.”
“He seems focused on the blonde.” Tuckey slowed the video to real time. “I would bet he won’t be getting anywhere with her. She just wants free drinks.”
Sharp agreed, but he couldn’t sympathize.
Dylan was too aggressive for anyone’s pity.
He didn’t wait more than five minutes before his hand landed on the woman’s thigh and squeezed.
She shifted and recrossed her legs, deftly dislodging his kneading fingers with an elbow as she swiveled on her stool.
Dylan draped a hand over the back of her seat, his knuckles brushing against the side of her breast. She tossed her hair, putting a few inches of space between his hand and her body.
Dylan was not a quitter. He continued to touch her in any way possible, while the young woman exhibited more impressive evasive maneuvers than an NFL running back.
They both seemed adept at their roles. Sharp bet this wasn’t the first time Dylan had strayed in his marriage.
He might be a little awkward, but he didn’t appear hesitant.
Tuckey pointed to the monitor. “Keep your attention on this corner of the screen.”
Sharp watched the bartender mix two gin and tonics, add slices of lime and cocktail straws, and place the drinks on the bar, just out of the camera’s line of sight. He drew a beer and did the same.
Tuckey switched back to the lounge camera. He made a quick pencil sketch on a blank piece of paper. He drew a long U, then added a dozen little circles. “Here’s the bar and the tables, and here’s that spot where the bartender is leaving the drink orders for the waitstaff to pick up.”
Sharp pictured the room and tapped on the drawing. “The hallway to the restrooms is right here. Anyone who went to the restroom would have passed right by the drinks sitting there.”
“Yep.” Tuckey turned back to his computer and opened a third window. “Here’s the hallway leading to the restrooms.” He advanced the feed to show Cody in the hallway. “Here’s your guy entering the bathroom at 8:03 and exiting at 8:07.”
Sharp went back to the bar camera. “Can you tell what time the bartender placed Nicki’s beer there?”
“About that time. The problem is select beers on tap were on special that night. Lots of people ordered beer.”
“Hold on.” Sharp switched back and forth between camera feeds, noted the time stamps, then drew out a quick timeline.
“So Cody did arrive after Nicki, but he went to the men’s room before approaching her.
Nicki’s beer arrived while he was in the restroom.
He could have had time to doctor her beer before it went to the table. ”
“Correct,” Tuckey said. “But given the amount of beer sold that night, and the fact that we don’t have eyes on the drinks as they go from the bartender to the waitstaff to the tables—there are forty other people in that bar and more in the restaurant who could have spiked your niece’s drink.
It was a busy night. The drugged beer could have gone to the wrong person. It could have been an accident.”
But Sharp didn’t believe in coincidences. “Did you interview her date yet?”
“Yes. He used a credit card to pay at the restaurant. I talked to him this morning. He denies everything, and his record is clean.”
Using his credit card made Cody either stupid or innocent.
“What about the bartender and waiter?” Sharp asked.
“No footage shows either of them spiking a beer, and neither have a criminal record.”
Sharp stood. “Thanks, Tuckey. I appreciate the look at the vids.”
“Anytime, Sharp. I wish I could have been more help, but this is why we don’t catch many of these guys. They’re smart.”
Rapists went free more often than not.
On his way out of the police station, Sharp called his partner, Lance Kruger. “You busy?”
“Typing reports. Nothing that can’t wait.”
“Wanna look threatening while I shake down a couple of assholes?”
“Sure,” Lance answered without missing a beat.
Sharp didn’t need help interrogating anyone, but they both knew the risks in knocking on the doors of strangers, especially those you suspected of criminal activity. “Neither visit is connected to a paying client.”
“No worries.” Lance sounded ridiculously chipper these days.
“You at the office?”
“Yep.”
“I’m on my way. I’ll pick you up in ten.”
“Let’s take my SUV. It’s hard to look intimidating getting out of a Prius.”
Even though he was alone, Sharp rolled his eyes. “I don’t own a Prius because it looks badass.”
“Clearly.”
“No minivan today?” Sharp couldn’t resist his own good-natured dig. Since Lance had married, he’d become the stepfather to his wife’s three little girls. Some days, he drove his wife’s minivan, which was filled with crumbs and covered in sticky fingerprints.
“Not today!” Lance replied happily.
Sharp laughed. He knew Lance loved every minute of his new chaotic life. “Would you get quick background basics on Cody Vass and Dylan Sanders?” He spelled their names and provided their addresses.
“I can do that.”
Ten minutes later, Sharp parked his car at Sharp Investigations. His partner met him outside. Lance was big and beefy. Dressed in his tactical cargos, a black T-shirt, and well-worn boots, he looked intimidating as hell. They climbed into Lance’s new ride.
“May as well enjoy one of the last nice days of the year,” Lance said as he opened the sunroof. “Which asshole are we shaking down first?”
Sharp checked the map for proximity. “Cody Vass.” He summarized the happenings from the previous night and the surveillance videos he’d watched with Tuckey earlier.
“And you think Cody drugged Nicki?” Lance’s blue eyes narrowed.
“Maybe,” Sharp admitted. “I’m not sure what happened, but that’s why we’re talking to him.”
Lance emitted a noise that sounded like a growl. “Do we need a lawn-and-leaf bag and a shovel?”
“Not just yet, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
The GPS guided them to Cody Vass’s apartment in a newish, moderately priced complex.
Lance parked. “Cody has lived here for two years. He works at a bank branch in town. His credit rating is OK but not great. He has a ton of student debt. No criminal record.” Lance pointed to an older-model silver Honda Accord. “That’s his vehicle.”
“So he’s probably here.” Sharp got out of the SUV.
Lance joined him on the sidewalk.
Cody’s apartment was on the second floor. They took the concrete steps to the landing and knocked on his door. Sharp looked back at Lance. Maybe he was too intimidating. “You might want to step to the side.” He nodded at the peephole. “Be ready to flex something when I need it.”
“Right.” Lance shifted out of sight.
Inside the apartment, footsteps approached the door, then stopped. Sharp could feel his attention through the peephole. The door opened a few inches. He recognized Cody from the videos.
Sharp held up a business card. “Cody Vass?”
Cody hesitated, then took the card without answering. He stared at it, then turned a confused and suspicious gaze to Sharp. “What do you want?”
“To ask you a few questions.”