Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Have they found anything yet?” Eric asked. If he was disappointed with the direction this was going, then he did a great job of hiding it.
“Nothing. But they haven’t finished. I expect a full report by tomorrow afternoon.”
I cocked my head, a thought striking me. “So someone hand-delivered the box and still managed to avoid detection? How the hell did that happen?”
The captain shook his head, empty hands opening over his empty desk before fitting back together in a loose fist. “That’s a good question. Maybe they know the neighborhood well, or maybe the person who sent the threat wasn’t the one who delivered the box. There could have been a third-party involved.”
Noah rubbed a hand over his face. His eyes were shut, his mouth tight. There was tension clear in the way his shoulders practically touched his neck. Maybe I could offer him a massage later, work out some of those knots. Friends did that all the time, right?
“What about the dashboard camera for the officers at the scene?” Eric asked, throwing me out of my Sean Cody fantasy. “Is that available?”
“It is. I’m getting someone to get it on a USB drive for you, but I can play it now if y’all wanted to see it.”
“We do,” Eric said as the three of us leaned forward. Julian turned his computer screen so that it faced us. He clicked through a couple of screens and found the video, an entire display appearing, showing everything from how fast the officer was going to whether or not his lights and sirens were on. It was nighttime, and the video was a little grainy but serviceable. The footage began from the moment the cop left the station, which was approximately six miles away.
Captain Julian sped the tape up, slowing it down once the officer was only a few blocks away from Noah’s house. We all watched with hawk eyes, even though I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for. I still didn’t know Noah’s social circle well enough yet to spot a suspicious car hanging around his neighborhood.
We watched it all the way up until the police car pulled up to Noah’s townhouse. I could sense the last wisps of hope slip out of the room through the air vents. Noah asked to watch it one more time. The captain obliged, pressing Play and leaning back in his chair, eyes just as intent on the black-and-white footage as ours were.
Again, the tape was nearing the end, the cop car making a left and entering a side street attached to the neighborhood. The captain was about to exit out of it when Noah jerked up. “Hold on, rewind.”
The captain did, the footage skipping backward in five-second increments. Noah watched as I held my breath, wondering who he saw. All I could tell was that there was an older-looking Honda Civic driving down the opposite side of the street, one of its headlights busted. It wasn’t very clear as to who the driver was, their face concealed by shadows that flickered under the streetlights.
“That’s Franky’s car,” Noah said, a hand moving to cover his mouth. “He has that same exact window decal.”
Noah pointed at the screen to a tiny corner of the car window that showed a lightning bolt sticker. I wouldn’t have spotted it if I wasn’t looking for it.
“Franky who?” Captain Julian asked, taking out a notebook from the bottom of his stack and clicking the top of a pen.
“Franky Gorga. An ex of mine. He’s married with kids now, and we haven’t talked in years. I don’t know… it doesn’t really make sense for him to leave that threat, but why is he driving around my neighborhood at night anyway?”
“Do you think that’s him behind the wheel?” the captain asked.
Noah shook his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I can’t say for sure.”
“Alright, well, it’s something I can look into, at least.”
Noah sat back with a sigh. I could feel his frustration. I shared in it. This meeting didn’t provide many answers; if anything, it offered up more questions. And whoever was twisted enough to send a severed chicken head to Noah’s doorstep was still out there, walking around, possibly planning their next move. Every second felt crucial, and I realized then that I couldn’t leave it to chance. I couldn’t leave it down to an already strained police department, where cases went cold for decades, if not longer.
I decided that I’d have to do some digging myself.
The captain stood, the meeting coming to an end. He offered his hand again and apologized for not being further along. We shook, Captain Julian offering his promises, saying that he had the best of the best working on it. Noah’s smile appeared genuine, his thanks just as honest. He was a good guy, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind about that.