“Chief Clayton?”
“Yes, ma’am. I wonder if I might have a word with you?”
Just like Patsy Bailey, Mrs. Fairview had been at the funeral service, and when she came home, she’d lain down and taken a nap. Another dead end.
He bypassed the next house because it was Talia Champion’s and headed for the one beyond. As he was walking, he saw Deputy Wells leaving one residence on his way to the next. When he saw Chief Clayton, he shook his head no to indicate he’d found no leads as of yet.
Clayton interviewed a retiree named Mr. Burns, who had also been at the funeral. After learning why the chief was there, Burns informed him that the people who lived in the next two houses down worked at the hospital and wouldn’t be home until after dark.
The last house on his side of the block belonged to a woman named Mayrene Potter. She didn’t have anything helpful to say but did offer him cookies. He was walking back up the street to his cruiser when he heard Deputy Wells shout out his name. He looked up, and Wells waved him over.
He stepped off the curb and then winced at a sharp pain in his foot. That damn ingrown toenail was still giving him fits. He was going to have to take time and go to the doctor before he got some vile infection and lost his damn toe.
“What’s up?” he asked, as Wells came running to meet him.
“Chief! You have to come see this.”
“See what? Do we have a witness or not?”
“We have security footage from the house directly across the street from Miss Champion’s.”
“What’s the resident’s name?” Clayton asked.
“Silas Ballard.”
Clayton frowned.
“Isn’t he the man who keeps reporting someone stealing roses from his prize bushes?”
“Yes. So he set up a security camera to catch his rose thief and caught what looks like someone vandalizing vehicles at the Champion residence, instead.”
“Do we have an ID?”
The deputy rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying the name aloud. You come look for yourself.”
Clayton’s gut knotted. “Fine, just lead the way.”
Silas Ballard was standing in the doorway waiting for them to come in.
“Afternoon, Mr. Ballard,” Clayton said.
“Afternoon, Chief.”
“So, where’s this security footage?” Clayton asked.
“Follow me,” the old man said, and led the way through the house to a small room off the utility room. “This used to be the wife’s sewing room, but since her passing it’s just a catch-all. I set up my security camera out front a few days ago. You can see today’s footage here. I got it ready for you,” he said.
Clayton sat down in the old office chair in front of the viewing screen and leaned forward as the footage began to play.
Within moments a black car appeared, driving slowly through the neighborhood.
Clayton saw the Champion house in the background, and he saw a pickup parked behind Talia Champion’s car in the carport. He watched as the dark car drove out of camera range.
“Keep watching,” the deputy said. “He’s coming back.”
And sure enough, there it was again, only this time it stopped right behind the pickup. Unable to get a good view of the license plate, they were focused on the unfolding scene. Within seconds a man jumped out, and even though he was a bit out of focus because of the distance and the quality of the camera, his identity was immediately visible.
“Oh, sweet hell. It’s Justin Wayne, just as his sister predicted,” Clayton muttered.
The three of them continued to watch as Justin popped the hood, then ducked down behind it. A couple of minutes later he shut the hood and moved to the truck. They watched as he unsuccessfully attempted to open the pickup doors, then actually lay down and scooted himself beneath the engine. At that point Clayton’s ears began to roar.
This is my worst fucking nightmare.
“Mr. Ballard, I’m going to need to take this into evidence. Can you get the disc for me, please?”
“Sure thing. Won’t take but a minute,” Silas said.
Clayton sent the deputy across the street to his car to get an evidence bag, and then proceeded to bag, sign and date the disc before leaving the premises.
He and his deputy paused on the street.
“Good job, Wells. Head on back to the office, write up your report and enter this into evidence. Whatever you do, don’t talk about this, understand?”
Wells was a bit wild-eyed and nervous just talking about it with his boss.
“Yes, sir, I sure do. Mum’s the word,” he said, then took the evidence bag and headed to his cruiser as Clayton pulled out his phone and called Constable Riordan. His ingrown toenail wasn’t going to catch a break tonight.
Riordan answered quickly. “Chief! Do you have any news for me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do we have a witness?”
“We have something better,” Clayton said. “We have security camera footage showing Justin Wayne in the act of vandalizing both vehicles.”