The gap in the security footage from the Whole Foods bothered me. Bobby had mentioned something about their DVR not working and the backup system missing one DVD. It would’ve shown exactly what time Emily Parker had pulled into the lot. If the killer was someone she knew, maybe the killer knew her schedule. It’s possible the killer had arrived in the parking lot before her.
The timeline could be important.
The FBI had talked to the manager at the Whole Foods, and no one knew what had happened to the DVD. In my opinion, no one was particularly upset about it either.
It was an odd feeling to be working on my own in a city not New York. There, I would’ve had a team helping me, and all of us would have been raising holy hell to find the DVD. Doing a surveillance solo required cutting corners.
I pulled into the surprisingly crowded lot. I had seen some of the prices at this place and wondered who the hell shopped here. But once inside, it was quiet and calm, and the produce was well stocked. I had to acknowledge that it was an extraordinarily pleasant experience.
A clerk turned to me and said, “May I help you, sir?”
I looked at the young African American man and said, “Is there a manager around?”
The young man stood up taller. He was damn near as tall as me. And probably weighed as much as Mary Catherine. He closely embodied the term beanpole.
He said, “I’m Archie Hart, manager on duty. What can I help you with?”
I liked his attitude and his infectious smile. He was tall and gangly but had a handsome face and perfect teeth. I went through a quick introduction and flashed my badge. It was as if Archie had been expecting a visit from law enforcement. I explained to him about my interest in the security footage and that I knew about the missing DVD.
The young manager led me through the store and past a set of double doors in the back. We worked our way through a maze of shelves and stacked crates of snack foods and health drinks. I didn’t even recognize most of the brands.
We ended at a door that was slightly ajar. It looked like a closet with Christmas tree lights inside. It was their security office. At least that’s what they called it. We peeked inside, and I could see four TV monitors, two on the outdoor cameras and two on cameras inside the store.
He said, “You said you knew about our system and how one of the DVDs of the day in question is missing.”
“That’s really what I wanted to talk to you about. Is it common to misplace DVDs with security footage?”
“It’s not really a fair question. Ninety-five percent of the time the DVR records and backs up everything automatically. We don’t even check the feed unless there’s a problem. A few days before this terrible incident, one of our cashiers decided to take a break, choosing this room as quiet and relaxing. Anyway, she tipped over a Coke she tried to set down on the DVR. That’s why we had to use the other DVR with a lot less data storage.”
“How long had you been using the other system before the FBI came in to ask to see the footage?”
“I don’t know. Maybe five or six days. Generally, on that system, backing up all the camera feeds uses two DVDs a day. We have no idea what happened to the missing DVD. I wasn’t the manager on duty when the FBI came to take a look. That manager told me she thought everything was in order the night before. She had no idea what happened to the DVD.”
I looked at the neatly arranged DVDs. Each had the date and time written in red Sharpie. The same person appeared to have marked each DVD. The number one was written with a small base and a flair at the top, like a professionally printed sign.
I gave the helpful young manager my card. He didn’t even look at it, so there were no questions about why a detective from the NYPD was in Washington, DC. We shook hands, and I had one more puzzle to solve.
Chapter 79
It was time to get serious. At least that’s what I was calling my surveillance of Beth Banks. I was seriously looking at her as a legitimate suspect. And I timed my surveillance perfectly.
I slowly drove past Gold’s Gym. Beth’s BMW was in the front. My secret weapon in this surveillance was my nondescript purple Prius. No one would notice it. No one would ever think it was a police car. And I was starting to dig the way it made me feel like a giant every time I tried to cram myself into it. It made me smile when I thought about how my family of twelve would deal with having a Prius as the only family vehicle. My guess was it would not work out well.
My plan was simple. Watch Beth Banks until she did something that left a DNA sample. It could be sweat on a door handle if I got there fast enough. It could be a strand of hair, blood, a fingernail. It didn’t matter. And I didn’t care. I was determined to stay with Ms. Banks until I accomplished my goal.