TWENTY-THREE
A man in his fifties smiled broadly at Amanda and Trent when they entered the security office, a nine-by-nine, windowless cell. His only glimpses of the outside world were through the six monitors projecting live feeds of the parking lot, front reception, two angles of the warehouse, the back loading dock, and the rear of the building. The extent of coverage was a good sign they might see something to aid the investigation.
Bob stayed long enough to introduce them to the security guy, Mitch Baldwin, and told him to let Amanda and Trent see whatever they wanted and take a copy of what they deemed fit.
“He’s never usually that easygoing,” Mitch said after Bob left.
“He wants to know who killed Eve Kelley.” But Amanda suspected it had more to do with protecting his own ass—not that they had solid reason to suspect him of Eve’s murder. She’d bet he was hiding something, though.
“Killed?” Mitch’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Can’t believe someone intentionally did this. She was too young to go. Nice woman too.”
“Did you know her well?” Amanda sensed he might, given his summation. Tony had told them Alicia Gordon made a point to meet all new employees at New Belle’s head office. Had Eve Kelley been much the same way?
“Not well, I wouldn’t say, but she was always friendly enough when we bumped into each other. She’d always wish me a good morning and ask how I was. So whatever I can do to help.”
“Thanks.” Amanda smiled. “We need to see whatever footage you have of Eve Kelley from the time she arrived yesterday. As much coverage as possible. Her parking, coming into the building, making her way to her office, going inside.” Technically, they only needed Eve’s last ten to twenty minutes if the pentobarbital acted as fast as Rideout had told them, but Amanda wanted a feel for what her morning had looked like leading up to that point.
“Ah, sure.” Mitch clicked here, clicked there. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Do you know when Ms. Kelley arrived?”
Mitch paused his clicking to say, “Ms. Kelley was always in at eight, on the mark.”
An hour before she died. What Mitch was telling them also didn’t reconcile with what Joanne had told them. “We were told she’s at her desk by nine.”
“Joanne, I’m assuming?”
Amanda nodded.
“That girl’s good at her job and was always attentive to Ms. Kelley’s needs. And, yeah, that sounds right. Eve shows up at eight, takes a stroll through the warehouse, drops in on the chemists, has a five-minute meeting with the production supervisor, and takes a walk around the shipping docks. Then she goes upstairs. Like clockwork.”
Had Joanne left this routine out intentionally, or did she not know about it? After all, Eve Kelley didn’t need to run her every step past her assistant. “All right, show us what you have.”
“Look here.” Mitch pointed to a screen right in front of him as it lit up. “First up, her arrival.” He hit play. “That’s Ms. Kelley’s BMW.” He pointed out the timestamp. “See?” Mitch said with a smile. “Eight AM sharp. Now I’ll patch all the feeds together as seamlessly as I can…” The promise was fulfilled when the next segment showed Eve entering the lobby.
On screen, transitions continued to happen as Eve Kelley made her way through the building and into the back warehouse. She smiled and waved at every employee she encountered. Shortly after, she entered a room.
“She’s going in to talk to the chemists now.”
“They’re in early,” Trent said.
“Yes sirree, but that’s where the magic happens. Magic doesn’t sleep. They’re in at seven in the morning, leave at three. It’s also where a lot of top-secret stuff goes on. I know Bob said to show you whatever you want to see, but I’d feel more comfortable if we skipped that—unless you have a warrant and sign some confidentiality paperwork.”
“It’s fine, for now.” Amanda wasn’t concerned because of the timeframe. If someone had poked Eve with a needle in the lab, she never would have made it upstairs.
“But Ms. Kelley visited them every morning?” Trent asked, sounding skeptical.
“Yes, every single workday.” The man was smiling, as if proud of his late boss.
Amanda was impressed by the woman’s dedication to her business. “Please continue.”
Video resumed playing. Eve was in the warehouse shaking hands with a man. His hair was jet black and slicked back. “Who is that?” she asked.
“Gary Adkins. He’s the production manager. He and Ms. Kelley would sit for five minutes precisely, and then she would go to the shipping docks and make her way upstairs to her office.”
The video played out true to the security guard’s narrative. Eve stepped into an office—a room without a camera—and left five minutes later. She did a stroll around the loading dock and went out of sight when she walked behind a truck. She emerged, rubbing her upper arm. The same one that had been poked.
“Stop right there. Back up!” Amanda directed Mitch.
He did as she’d asked, but watching it again revealed nothing new.
“Do you happen to have another angle on this?” she asked.
“Not that will help.”
“Show it to us anyway.”
Mitch loaded another feed. It was an eagle-eye view but didn’t cover behind the truck—where they needed to see.
“All right, go back to the other. Please play it again from the point she goes behind the truck until she reemerges.”
Mitch’s lips pinched. “You saw something…” He played it again and let the footage go on a little longer. Eve Kelley came out on the right. A few moments later, a person stepped into view on the left.
“Stop!”
Mitch did—immediately.
“Who is that person?” She was pointing at the mystery figure, dark and shadowed under the overhang of the bay. “Is there any way to enhance this?”
“I can some.” He proceeded to do that, but it didn’t do much for cleaning up the resolution. At quick glance, it was impossible to tell if the person was a man or woman; their back was to the camera. But they wore a white ball cap, and strands of dark hair poked out from under it. Given the length, the person’s broad shoulders and narrow hips, Amanda was leaning more toward the mystery figure being male.
“I want to see if we can follow that person’s steps from this point on. Can you help with that?” she asked.
“I’ll do my best.”
Amanda turned to Trent. “You did see what I did?”