Threads of Suspicion(32)

“I can give you some help on that data analysis.”

“I was hoping you’d offer. It’s gladly accepted.”

As Evie drank her coffee and reviewed Ann’s notes, she glanced over to her friend reviewing her own notes to ask, “Are you beginning to see a pattern here? The rumor mill has settled on about half a dozen theories, and we’re getting the same rumors with variations on a theme, depending on which supposition the individual considers the most likely.”

Ann held up Evie’s notebook. “It’s crowd-sourcing crime solving, the collective wisdom of a community on what happened to Jenna Greenhill. You have to admit, they’re pretty good. They’ve nailed down the most likely theories on your master list.”

“I find it interesting that the possibility she’s alive still runs this hot.”

“The need for hope,” Ann replied. “To not allow for her to be alive moves the case from being depressing to being just black.”

Ann closed the notebook and drank her coffee. “She’s dead, Evie. This isn’t another Shannon Bliss with someone taking her for a reason. To be alive after nine years, you need a reason. Jenna wasn’t the prettiest, the youngest, the most outgoing. She was vulnerable, she got grabbed, but I doubt this kidnapping lasted more than a few hours at most.”

It helped hearing another cop confirm what she also had concluded. This was a murder investigation without a body. Evie swapped back notebooks with Ann. “I hope her body isn’t found in this neighborhood. I don’t want to end the mystery by creating another memorial location residents have to pass every day.”

“I sincerely hope it doesn’t unfold that way either.”

They paid for the coffee and stepped back outside. Ann pointed to the Music Hall. “Let’s split up again. You take management, work your way down through security, sound and lighting staff. I’ll track down janitorial employees and work my way through food and beverages, ticket takers, and dressing room attendants.”

Evie pocketed her notebook and took out Jenna’s photo again. “Sounds like a plan.”



Two hours later they met up at the Music Hall entrance. Ann said, “I’ve got what you would expect—guys hitting on girls, drunk-and-disorderlies, three confirmed rapes linked back to these parking lots, several bands that are blacklisted because of drug use in the dressing rooms.”

“I can add security footage of drug deals,” Evie said, skimming through her notes. “Pickpockets galore, a dozen fights, a fire-alarm prank to cause panic, an actual fire, three bands that managed to injure their own members, and five instances of fans with injuries after swarming the stage.” She closed the notebook. “Given the number of concerts and the size of the crowds flowing through this place every week, that seems like normal crime to me over a decade. I’ve got names, promises for more names, but nothing that feels like a pattern, no other incidents that suggest someone works this location trolling for victims.”

“Jenna seems isolated in that respect,” Ann concurred.

Evie was glad to have this particular set of interviews completed. She checked the time. “Let’s walk back to the campus. I’d like your impressions on the building where Jenna lived.”

“Suits me.” Ann fell in step beside her. “How’s David doing with his missing PI?”

“He’s having a hard time getting any traction. There’s a wide time window between when Saul disappeared and when anybody noticed, and no clear geography for where something happened. There’s nothing obvious in his personal life that suggests a reason as to what might have happened to cause him to go missing. So David has been going through the cases Saul was working on, looking for ones that might have a reason to want him dead. There are a number of names in the closed cases to work. And there’s one active case that is promising.

“Saul was working for a husband on an open murder case. The wife was stabbed in a grocery store parking lot and bled to death. Maybe he found him . . . it’s a theory at least. David is planning to interview the husband, Nathan Lewis, today to see if there had been a conversation, something not in Saul’s notes, that might help identify what Saul had been doing the week he disappeared.”

“Evie . . .” Ann slowed to a stop. “Actually, that might not be a good idea.”

Evie stopped too, surprised. “What is it, Ann?”

“I’ve got someone undercover in Nathan Lewis’s office right now, looking into who killed Caroline. I think the murder was done, or at least arranged, by someone close to Nathan.”