Sarah Graves - [Home Repair is Homicide 12] - A Face At the Window (html) by A Face At the Window (html)

Author:A Face At the Window (html) [Window, A Face At the]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

She slotted the tape into the VCR in the living room, in the big TV where Wade watched sports, usually. But there was nothing sporting about what this tape showed: gray and grainy, shot from a high angle, like a security tape from a store camera.

Only it wasn't from any store. Instead it had been made outside Helen Nevelson's house. "Do you recognize either of those two?" Bob asked.

"No." The action was difficult to watch, first as Helen was muscled roughly into the driveway, her wrists bound. Next Lee was carried out struggling and tossed into a car behind Helen.

Then one drove away in Helen's car while his accomplice took the one the kidnappers had come in. "Where'd you get this?" Jake asked.

The worst part of the tape was the last few moments, Lee's small, white face pressed for an instant to the car window.

Scared. Frantic, even…

Bob looked grim. "It was on my desk when I got downtown. I'd just stopped in to check with the state cops on my way home, see if there were any new developments. Which there weren't."

He waved at the TV in disgust. "Look again." He hit the rewind button on the remote.

"Stop," she said. He paused the tape; she squinted hard at the men on it. One was smaller, with dark, curly hair, wearing a leather jacket… a cocky-looking guy with a strutting walk.

"Bastard," she whispered. The other one, tall and beak-nosed with a pointy Adam's apple and big ears, wore a jacket with…

"What's that?" Bob asked, pointing. "Some kind of a logo?"

"Yes." Excitement seized her; she leaned toward the screen. "It's the logo of the New Jersey Devils. Supposed to be a linked N and J. Plus a stylized pair of horns and forked tail…"

"A hockey team," she added; Bob wasn't a sports fan. "Run the tape again, will you? That's right, keep it going until—there. Watch the car, now. When it goes around the circle on its way out you can see…oh, my God. Did you get it? Run it back."

"The plate," Bob said, but not happily. He'd seen it before, she realized. "You can almost read the tag number."

He ran it back and forth a few more times, but with the same result. The license plate on the old blue Monte Carlo was unreadable. "You want to see it again?"

She felt her shoulders sag. "No. You're right, it's just not there, and looking at it over and over won't make it be."

If the numbers weren't visible, they weren't. "But why would Jody and Jerrilyn Pierce want to be taping their…oh. On account of Tim Barnard?"

Bob nodded. "Jody worked on video gear sometimes. I'll bet he set this camera up. Figured like we did, that even with Tim out of commission his buddies might be trouble."

Jake recalled Jody Pierce's workroom, the electronics in it. "So once Jerrilyn calmed down, she remembered it?"

"Nope. I already asked, she says she never even knew about the camera."

He rolled his head around, trying to work the kinks out of his neck.

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