“Not sure.” Something about it nagged at her, but with so much on her mind,
she couldn’t bring it home. Heat handed the registration back to Feller and told
him to get it out with Windsor’s APB.
Nikki entered Raley’s video screening booth, pointed to the cardboard hat propped
on his monitor, and said, “If you want to hold on to that Burger King crown I got
especially for you, this better be good.”
“It’ll be worth it. I finally got a chance to scan through the surveillance video
from the Coney Crest. Man, you see a lot of freaks go through there.” He shivered
theatrically, and she laughed. “A couple of things of note. No hits on any of our
usual suspects going in, other than Salena Kaye at check-in, and then up and down
the stairs a number of times. It’s basically, a lot of this.” He clicked the
mouse, and grainy video rolled—a split-screen: overhead of the manager’s office on
the right side; on the left, the exterior view of a metal staircase with pebbled
steps that led from the second floor to ground level behind the lobby. Soon a pair
of legs descended the stairs. When Kaye’s face came into frame at the landing
beside the ice machine, Raley paused the video on her. “Got about a bazillion of
those shots, including the reverse trips. She comes, she goes—it’s not award
material.”
“This the only cam, other than the manager’s office?”
“Yes. And, as you see, the framing isn’t wide enough to show the second floor or
the door to two-ten. It’s really set up so the manager can clock comings and goings
between hits off his bong.”
“Got it. Thanks, Sean.”
“One more thing. You asked me to surf for Detective Hinesburg to verify that she
actually showed up to interview the manager. She did.” He clicked his mouse, and a
second monitor awoke, loaded with a new split-screen video file ready to play. “If
you don’t mind,” he said, “it’s been a long session, and a gallon of coffee.”
“Roll it, King, I’m good.” Detective Raley double-clicked the icon to start the
fresh video, and he hurried out. His task chair wasn’t the most comfortable, but
after the morning and night she’d experienced, Nikki melted back into it and
lounged as Detective Hinesburg entered the motel lobby and spoke to the manager. The
cam position was behind the registration counter with no audio, of course, so Heat
had to satisfy herself watching across the back of the manager’s head listening to
Hinesburg’s silent talking. What Heat really wanted to see was his face, for any
tells when he lied about Salena Kaye’s presence there.
Nikki wondered how Raley endured the tedium. Satisfied her defective detective had
actually done as she had been told, Nikki let that video roll, in case the manager
ever turned to the camera, and clicked the video on the other monitor to see more of
Salena Kaye’s comings and goings throughout her week there. She found the icon that
increased the scan rate to maximum, and soon people were zapping up and down those
stairs as if they were in a Charlie Chaplin movie. She decided goofiness like this
was how Raley dealt with the monotony.
Then something caught Heat’s eye that made her bolt upright in her seat. She
scrambled for the mouse to stop the video and watched it again, riveted to every
frame.
When Raley came back from the restroom a minute later, she had clicked all the video
files closed. All the screens sat dark. “Find what you needed?” he asked.
“And then some.” She stopped at the door and said, “Rales, save all that video,
understand? No deleting, it goes nowhere else.”
“Uh… sure. Everything OK?”
“And remember. This was just between us. We never screened this, clear?”
“Sure thing, but—” He never finished his question. She had already moved on.