Behind her, she hears a click as the door to the restroom is unlocked. Swivelling round in the chair, she sees the lanky security guard emerge, wiping his damp hands on his uniform.
Moira points to the screen. ‘Why are these fields blank?’
The young guard crosses the room and peers over her shoulder. ‘I guess this one was picked up on the automated plate reader, rather than the guard entering it manually.’
Moira cocks her head to the side. ‘How so?’
‘If a guard is in the john, rather than the visitor having to wait, they can switch the system to auto. That means if a visitor shows up, the electronic plate reader over the gate will register the car and open the barrier, rather than them having to wait until the guard has finished their business.’
‘But you miss out on the key information.’
‘We’re working solo here after 9 p.m. until 9 a.m. You have to use the restroom sometime.’
Moira thinks about the fuss made by the sales team over the high level of security at The Homestead – how they knew about every vehicle, and every person, within the complex at any one time. She shakes her head. ‘So, what, protocol doesn’t matter between 9 p.m. and 9 a.m.?’
The guy raises his hands. ‘I just work here. I don’t make the rules.’
‘It’s not good enough.’ Moira holds his gaze until his cheeks blush and he looks away. Good. He should be embarrassed. The sales bullshit is one issue, but the slapdash way they’re running security means there’s no way of building a fully accurate picture of who has entered the community.
The guy runs a hand through his hair. ‘Look, I’m sorry, okay. I’m not—’
‘There’s only one entry for the station wagon,’ says Moira. ‘But I know it’s visited Ocean Mist at least two more times. How’s it not on the log?’
‘If they drove in through the exit the registration plate wouldn’t have been recorded,’ says the security guard.
‘And you think they could have done that a couple of times without being noticed?’
He looks a bit shifty. ‘Well, sure, if they came after nine in the evening and when the guard was using the restroom.’
Moira clenches her fists. Tries to hold her temper – she can’t afford to have a go at this guy or he might clam up completely, but damn, these security people are seriously crap. ‘And so he could have been here a lot of nights, and slipped in and out unnoticed?’
‘I guess so.’
Moira curses under her breath. The killer could easily have exploited the system to enter and exit unseen and unrecorded. There’s little merit to be gained from the logs, aside from knowing the driver of the beige station wagon had started coming here at least a month before the murder. She thinks for a moment, then pulls out her phone and makes a note of the date the wagon was recorded entering – from memory it seems to be around the time the burglaries started. She’ll check that with the others later.
‘Is there anything else I can help with?’ The young guard is looking twitchy. He keeps glancing out through the viewing window towards the entry lanes.
Moira guesses he’s worried someone will see her sitting at the computer. She decides to cut the guy some slack. She doubts she can get much more from him. ‘No, you’ve been helpful, thanks.’
He gestures towards the computer. ‘Are you going to tell the police our records aren’t complete?’
She shakes her head. ‘No.’
He smiles. There’s relief on his face.
Standing up, Moira moves back towards the door. ‘Lock this behind me, if it makes you feel safer. But do me a favour and don’t go hiding again when people come by. We need you with eyes on the gates at all times, okay?’