Private Affair(58)

Chapter 18


Max waited for Olivia’s answer.

Her response was what he expected, given the precautions the guy had taken.

“No.”

“Anything at all you can think of?” Jack pressed.

“I was in a panic. In the smoke. He was shooting at me. All I wanted to do was get away. Well, get away with Claire.”

“Yeah, but we can go back and look at him on the tape.”

He rewound until they had a clear picture of the time after the assailant walked into the frame.

Max went through the tape very slowly.

“He didn’t park in the driveway,” he said. “It looks like he came through the woods.”

“Like when he was here before,” she murmured.

“I told you about the man who strung the barbed wire in the woods,” Max clarified to his partners. “We don’t know for sure that was him, but it would make sense. Which means it would be helpful if we got those DNA results.”

“Yeah,” Shane agreed. “But once we get the profile, we’ve got to find out if he’s in the system.”

“Work on that,” Max ordered.

Shane nodded. “He must have been coming to check out the place. “But why announce his presence by setting that trap in the woods? That doesn’t exactly make sense.”

Max made a sound of agreement, then went back to slowly forwarding the surveillance tape, keeping his focus on the man who had come to kill Claire and Olivia.

“He moves easily. I’d say he works out,” Jack observed.

“One of the former football players?” Olivia wondered.

“Not necessarily,” Max answered. “Too bad he had on that cap. I’d like to at least know his hair color—or if he’s bald.”

“See if you can get it,” Shane said.

Max stopped the picture and zoomed in on the man’s mask-covered face. When the guy turned his head, they saw a bit of hair at the bottom of the cap.

Max enlarged the picture again. “It’s dark,” he said.

“He could still be mostly bald,” Shane pointed out.

“Or he could have dyed his hair,” Olivia said.

“It’s the only physical evidence we have to go on so far,” Max said.

“I’d like to look for shoeprints, but the cops have probably trampled the ground,” Jack said.

Max zoomed out again, and they kept going through the tape, frame by frame.

“He could have gotten that shirt anywhere,” Max said.

“No,” Olivia said.

“You know where he bought the shirt?” Jack asked, and they all turned to her.

“Well, not specifically where he bought it, but I’m pretty good at remembering clothing. It’s part of my job.”

“You said you remembered women’s clothing better than men’s when I asked you about the reunion   meeting,” Max said.

“Right. But last year I was doing some commercials for Ralph Lauren. That shirt was in the male collection.”

“You’re sure.”

“It’s a dark, solid color broadcloth shirt with a slight pattern in the weave.” She pointed toward the screen. “But look at that checked pattern inside the collar.”

“What about the logo?” Max asked.

“He had a handkerchief covering it,” she said.

“Good work,” Max said to Olivia.

“Does it help?” she asked.

“It’s a clue,” Max answered. “It tells us he’s a guy who can afford to wear expensive clothing to a murder. And that he doesn’t mind getting them messed up,” he added.

Shane snorted.

Max kept going. “Anything else sartorial that would help?”

Olivia watched for a few more minutes, then pointed to his shoes. “I think those are Gucci loafers. I can’t be sure because there are a lot of knockoffs. But it’s the style. See the curve of the tongue.”

Shane laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“More evidence that he’s well off,” Jack said.

“Like Brian Cannon,” Max said.

“But he has blond hair,” Olivia pointed out.

They kept watching, and Olivia couldn’t come up with anything else that would help identify the guy.

When the tape finished, Max turned to Olivia and saw her biting her lower lip. “What are you thinking?”

“If I had saved Claire, we could ask her about him,” Olivia whispered.

“You couldn’t save her because she wouldn’t let you,” Max said. “She was too out of it, I think. Maybe she was even drugged so she couldn’t think straight.”

“I was wondering about that,” Olivia conceded. “She wasn’t acting the way I remembered her—or acting normal, come to that. But how would he drug her?”