“That’s not easy here. I know a lot of people.”
“We’ll just hang back for a minute. Let me call Jackson and get him talking to David. I’ll tell him what we’ve found and why we don’t want to make it public yet.” He put the call through to Jackson, who said he’d be there soon, and then leaned against the wall as they waited. The alley smelled of rotting garbage.
“Great place to hang around,” Abby said.
Malachi grinned. “I’ve been in worse.”
He stared at her and she asked, “What?”
“You even look good festooned in dirt.”
“So do you!”
He smiled, but his smile faded. His mind, she realized, was always moving, often along a number of different tracks at once.
“Timing is everything in a crime like this,” he said. “It’s not that it’s difficult to get around. We’ve been within blocks of the same area, so someone who needs to get from place to place with very little time can do it easily. But still, if we could just pinpoint who was where when... At least we could eliminate people.”
“Do you believe that Roger is really in the clear?” Abby asked.
He shrugged. “I do. There isn’t any proof.”
A moment later, Jackson Crow walked into the alley. He was with a man who was close to six feet with beautiful café-au-lait skin, thirty-five or so, and wearing an I Love Savannah T-shirt, the kind sold in dozens of tourist shops.
“Officer Dale Kendrick,” Jackson said, introducing him. “He’ll be keeping an eye on the alley. And he transferred in from Atlanta recently, so it’s not likely he’d be recognized by anyone here.”
They shook hands with Kendrick. Malachi handed the gum wrapper over to Jackson, who would bring it to Forensics. Will was back on the Black Swan, and Angela and Kat were spelling each other on the screens. Will had enhanced the footage showing the strange figure approaching the Dragonslayer the night before. But no matter how enhanced, the face was hidden. However, they could eliminate anyone under six feet. Jackson left them to head down to the station; he was due to meet with David at Forensics to see if anything had been discovered regarding the rowboat they’d found in the river. He left them.
“On to Chippewa Square,” Malachi announced.
He shook hands with Kendrick again, thanking him. “It’s my job,” Kendrick told him, waving as they walked off.
They hurried to the house, hoping no one would notice them in their dirty, disheveled state. Luckily, tourists were distracted by their own destinations or the beauty of the homes, the street and the moss-draped live oaks.
Angela came to the door and looked them up and down, a trace of amusement on her face. “Cute. You’re like children out of a very dirty sandpile.”
“That’s something to think about,” Malachi said.
“What’s that?” Abby asked.
“The dirt. This person has to come out of these tunnels dirty—unless he’s going all the way through, and not coming back until he’s been out on whatever vessel he has on the river.”
“Good point,” Angela said. “And, by the way, Will worked with the city and got a camera up on the exit to the riverbank from the Dragonslayer. They were careful setting it up so they weren’t seen doing it. We won’t want to scare anyone off. No one will be able to use that venue again without being instantly visible. Come into the dining room and I’ll show you.”
They followed her. There’d been another camera set up; it looked out over the embankment where Abby had plunged into the river to save Helen Long.
“That’s good. See anything?” Malachi asked.
“A lot of tourists,” Angela said with a sigh. She smiled at Abby. “So, you’re thinking about joining us?”
“What?” Abby asked, startled by the question.
“You’ve already been through the academy. I’m assuming you’re expecting an assignment when this is over. I believe Jackson intends to suggest you join us.”
“Be—be part of the Krewe?” Abby stammered.
“The rest of the bureau may talk about us behind our backs,” Angela said, “but we’re actually considered a pretty elite group.”
Abby glanced at Malachi. He’d known, she thought. He was watching her, waiting for her reaction.
“I guess we should get through this first,” Abby said. She turned quickly. “I’ll go up and shower,” she said. “Oh.” She looked at Malachi. “I have a few clothes here. But—”
“Malachi and Jackson are about the same size. It’s not a problem,” Angela said. “If it was, one of us would just run over to the tavern. So, go and shower. There’s nothing like a shower to wash away dirt and to clear the mind.”
“Here’s hoping,” Abby said, and sped up the stairs to her own room.