Chapter 20
Nicole
My hands clenched the steering wheel the whole time I watched Detective Nolan talk to the man inside the gas station. He was an older guy with a narrow face and a mistrustful stare.
Nolan nodded at something the man said, then they disappeared into the back for a few minutes before returning and talking a bit more. Finally, Detective Nolan rushed out of the gas station and hopped into my car.
He held a small piece of paper in his hand.
It read: MA 443FD.
I didn’t know why, but I memorized it instantly before he slid the paper into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Years as a teacher had taught me how to remember a few numbers and letters.
“Well?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “looks like you’re in luck. The gas station owner is the distrustful kind and figured it was better to save a copy of that night’s video recording before it got overwritten. Even after the police told him it was nothing.”
“Smart man.”
“Yup. He said something felt off about this guy. He was worried the man might come back someday. So he kept the video as evidence.”
“So who is the man?” I pressed. “Do we have a name? Address? What was he doing here? Whose blood was on his clothes?”
Nolan lifted a hand. “Slow down. The gas station owner doesn’t know any of that. And we don’t either. But we do have a license plate.”
My forehead creased. “And that’s good, right? That means we can find the murderer?”
Nolan cocked a brow. “First of all, there is no ‘we.’ This isn’t Monk. You’re not the eccentric civilian tagging along, and I’m not the detective pretending that’s normal. Nothing I saw on the recording proves this man is Zach’s murderer. I need to be very clear about that.”
He must have seen the disappointment on my face, because he quickly added, “But I agree the guy on the recording was acting extremely nervous, and he was covered in what looked like blood. So I’ll run the plate and look into him.”
“How long will that take? I don’t have much time. Lacey’s cancer is—” I couldn’t finish the sentence. It hurt too much.
Detective Nolan looked at me, the hard lines in his face softening.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I’ll get to it the moment I’m back at the station.”
I nodded. “Thank you. Will that get you in trouble?”
“I’m technically still on the case. I’m just looking into a lead. Can’t get fired for that. But it can definitely make my life uncomfortable for a bit if the prick finds out.”
I felt horrible. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Hey, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if the real killer struck again and I hadn’t done anything about it.”
He frowned, opened my car door, and stepped out. “I’ll let you know what I find. But do me a favor.”
Our eyes met. “What’s that?”
“Don’t put all your hope on this. I’d hate to see it crushed.”
With that, he closed my door and walked back to his SUV.
I sat there quietly, letting everything sink in.
There was hope again.
It was only a spark. But even a spark could light up the darkness when everything around it was pitch-black.