“What?”
“You said ‘if she deleted it.’”
“She could have been hacked. Her phone could have been cloned. ClipLife is a dark force, man,” Diggy said.
“Or this guy was luring her.”
“I mean, sure, if you want to skip the conspiracy angle. The guy definitely knew what buttons to push with that email.”
“What about her text stream?” Aiden asked.
“Hang on. Two texts from an unknown number Sunday night. One at 11:15, asking if she is on her way, to which she replies ‘in Uber.’ And another at 11:23 saying ‘running ten minutes late.’ Regina gives that one a thumbs up.”
Ten minutes. Giving her just the right amount of time to grab a smoke.
“See if you can find anything on that email address. I’m gonna bring these paper files back to the office.” He had empty boxes in his car for this very reason. His hand went to the now-healed bullet wound. His shoulder was going to bitch about this little moving project.
“On it,” Diggy said.
Aiden ended the call. His instincts were telling him loud and clear that the emailer had lured Regina to Philadelphia with an irresistible story. He might have entertained the possibility of a third party had it not been for that text. Running ten minutes late. Whoever she was meeting had sent an engraved invitation to step into that alley. He knew she smoked. Something had sent her across the street, forcing the killer to skirt the block and come up behind her. He stabbed her in the back, then he waited. Lividity had set in with the body on its side. He waited for the streets to empty; then, he dragged her back to the spot beside the diner where the owner had found her the next night. Why risk it? What was so important about that spot?
His theory produced more questions than answers. Fortunately, he had a long drive ahead of him to think about it.