“Before or after you broke in? Never mind.”
“Detective, this takes it up a notch. Gets some gold shields assigned.”
Or maybe puts it on the desk of somebody who’s not too lazy to do it?
No, that was unfair, given the walls of files. Still...
Nilsson was looking at him. He shook his head.
Shaw remained silent. There was no better prod than this. Quiet beats repeating the question a dozen times for getting a response. “Fact is, it’s still a misdemeanor.”
Again, not a word.
A sigh. “I’ll get it to the powers that be.”
He inhaled long. “Anything you can do, Detective. Much appreciated.”
He disconnected.
“Almost useless,” he muttered. “It’s like Merritt’s walking around in body armor.”
“So, back to the digital legwork,” Nilsson said.
Her text message, the one that he had read when he pulled over on Cross County Highway, had said:
No luck here. Let’s check cams.
The one he’d been about to send:
Too many haystacks. Can we get intersection camera access?
Nilsson explained that the city of Ferrington might be down a number of human law enforcers but in some compensation city hallhad invested in an above-average municipal video surveillance system.
“Not inexpensive, but cheaper than bodies and no insurance or pension payments.”
The system was enhanced by access to some private cameras—in retail stores and service stations whose owners volunteered them.
Being the famed benefactor of the city, Harmon made calls and had gotten the okay for Nilsson, and therefore Shaw, to log in to the consolidated system.
This room contained dozens of monitors and they were now searching footage for Allison Parker’s Toyota 4Runner and her ex-husband’s Ford F-150 pickup.
They had started with the fact she fled west on Cross County Highway.
Shaw had called up a map of North Ferrington. Nilsson leaned close, beside him. He detected a flowery scent. Then concentrated again on the grid. Cross County was intersected by many streets and roads. But near Ferrington, they were closed neighborhoods with no way out.
She gestured toward it. “Maybe she knows someone there.”
“Possible. Ten percent, I’d say. I think she’ll keep going. Put as much distance between Ferrington and herself as possible.”
“Agreed.”
They’d then sat down, where they were now, and had begun to review footage along Cross County starting from the approximate time she would have fled.
Shaw believed he had a hit of a 4Runner, the color of hers, turning south on 55. There was a truck behind the turning vehicle, though, partially obscuring the view. The tag was not visible at all.
Nilsson peered at the images. “Could be. Anybody inside you can see?”
No. Glare and grain.