Chat - Archer Mayor [107]
“Just that she was in a really good mood. She seemed more nervous to me.”
“And after she got back from the bathroom?” Sammie asked.
“Kind of the same.”
“She carrying a bag or purse?”
“Purse.”
“And she kept that with her at all times?” Joe asked.
“Yeah.”
“Officer Lloyd,” Joe continued. “This is important. Think back and tell us if her body language concerning the purse was any different after her trip to the bathroom.”
There was a thoughtful hesitation before the young cop said, “She wore it slung across her body when she came back. And it was slid forward, so that it rested less to her side and more across her stomach.”
“Great,” Joe told him. “You’re really good at this. One last question: Did anything at all happen when the three of you passed the supply room?”
“Not really.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Well,” Lloyd answered, “neither one of them did anything, but I noticed that the door was open and Aho was gone.”
“Nothing was said?”
“I might’ve said, ‘Huh—wonder where Matt is?’ or something like that. It surprised me, ’cause Matt’s a real stickler about keeping that area secure.”
“The Leppmans didn’t say anything?”
“He asked me what the room was, and I told him, but that was it.”
“Could you see anything through the open door?” Sam asked him.
They could almost hear him shrug over the phone. “Usual junk—ticket books, pads, a few Taser cartridges, bundles of those plastic envelopes they use for parking tickets, maybe some pens.” He thought some more. “I don’t know. There might’ve been a couple of those Cordura equipment pouches, like for cuffs or OC spray, for our duty belts. Guys are always asking for things like that.”
Joe glanced around the room to see if anyone had any more questions. “Okay, Officer Lloyd. Appreciate your time. This has been a big help.”
“Sure. My pleasure.”
The line went dead and Sam hit the Disconnect button on the phone console.
“No question Wendy swiped the cartridge,” she said before asking rhetorically, “but was Dad in on it?”
Joe was staring at the floor, buried in thought. “We better find out,” he responded, adding, “and I’m not so sure I’m going to like the answer. Something’s making me think maybe Leppman’s used his daughter for more than just that Taser cartridge.”
“What d’you mean?” Willy wanted to know.
“Something Hillstrom discovered,” Joe answered him. “Remember? She said the chemicals that killed Nashman were mixed in with a cookie he’d just eaten.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, how does that fit? The guy checks in, takes his two key cards, goes to the room, sticks one of the keys to the outside of the door in an envelope, and waits for his date. Where’s the cookie come in?”
“With the date,” Lester said simply.
“I’m not gonna open my door to you, big fellah,” Willy told him, seeing Joe’s point. “Not if you’re carrying a goddamn cake with candles.”
Sam and Lester looked at him.
“He’s a guy,” Willy said with eyes wide. “I’m expecting a girl, for Christ’s sake.”
“My point exactly,” Joe said with a smile. “But there’s more. He is expecting a girl—a young girl. And what he sees walking through the door—which is why there had to be a key outside, or he might not have let her in—is a woman in her twenties.”
“Bummer number one,” Willy chimed in, playing Joe’s second fiddle.
“Correct,” Joe resumed. “So, she’s got some seductive one-liner or something to stall him, and a cookie as a peace offering. He eats because that’s what you do for a pretty girl when she’s caught you off balance.”
“And then you die,” Willy concluded. “Bummer number two.”
“Which,” Sam suggested, dragging out the word for emphasis, “now means you have a one-hundred-and-ninety-pound body on your hands.”
“So what?” Willy asked. “Nashman wasn’t moved.”
Sam laughed. “Exactly. Metz was. Why? Same basic m.o., same motive, same people.”
“Because with Metz, you had more than one person in on it,” Joe suggested.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “So, who was stuck alone with Nashman?”
He looked up at them. “I think it’s time for that chat with the Leppmans.”
Chapter 26
The initial sound was slight to almost unnoticeable,