“Stay behind me,” she says under her breath. I do as she instructs, dropping by head so he can’t see who I am. I’m not sure what will happen if he recognizes me, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.
“I’m SA Hughes and this is my partner, Riggs. I’m following up on a case and believe you may have encountered the suspect. Have you seen this woman?” Cara holds up a picture, but I don’t know who its of.
“Yeah, I’ve seen her around.”
“Doing what?” she asks.
“Don’t know,” he replies and I imagine him shrugging. I also imagine my gun cocked against his head for being an asshole because the image is either of Penny or Frannie.
“Okay. I feel ya,” she says, pulling out her phone. “Hey, Allie, I’m going to need that warrant. Yeah, yeah, I want to dump his financials … hold on, Allie.”
“Lady, you don’t need a warrant, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
Cara pockets her phone as I stifle a laugh. She didn’t call anyone, but she sure as shit made him believe she did.
“Look that chick in the photo, she’s nuts, okay.”
“We know,” Cara says. “What about this woman?”
“Nah, I mean I’ve seen her, but not for a few years. That crazy chick asks about her, too. What’d she do?”
I can’t continue to stand behind Cara, so I move next to her and try not to make any contact with the man behind the counter. I need to hear him clearly. I should’ve worn a hat or something to cover some of my face. This is why I wouldn’t make a good detective.
“Her name is Penelope McCoy and she didn’t do anything wrong, we’re searching for her.”
The man shakes his head. “So’s that crazy chick.”
“When was the last time you’ve seen either one of them?”
“The blonde? Probably five years ago or so, but she wasn’t blonde. She had jet black hair. The one riding the train to cuckoo land, last month.”
“What’d she want when she came in?” Cara asks.
“The same as always. She wants to know who’s paying this one’s storage bill, but seeing as she’s not the police I don’t tell her.”
“Wait, you’re sure the McCoy storage building is being paid for?” I ask as my heart pounds loudly in my chest.
“Uh huh, every month.”
“Who’s paying it?” I take over asking the questions because while Cara is trying to find Frannie to arrest her, I have other priorities.
“Hold on,” he replies as he starts typing away on this computer. “Says here the payee is Amy Jones.”
“Does that name ring a bell?” Cara asks, and I shake my head.
“Where does the payment come from?” I’m starting to shake and my palms are sweating. This is the first solid lead we’ve stumbled upon since I’ve been back and it all started with a dream, remembering the night Penny and I met.
“Hold on, that’s another screen.” He uses the mouse to move screens and types with one finger while I wa
it impatiently. I’m about to push him out of the way when he stands up and comes back to the counter.
“Says the transaction comes from a TF Bank. That’s all I got,” he says, shrugging.
“She’s on the East Coast,” Cara mutters as I look at her, both confused and impressed that she just knows this information off the top of her head. “We’ll take a look in the storage unit now,” she adds, smiling at the man as he walks around the front with a massive set of keys hanging from his belt loop. He’s slow, fat, and out of shape, and it takes us far too long to get to my unit. The key I have sits in the box, inside the car, and I realize I should’ve brought it with me, along with my gun.
He searches for the right key and starts to lift the door. I close my eyes, not wanting to see what’s inside.
“Do you have video surveillance here?” I can hear Cara ask him.