He headed up the ramp, hands tucked deep into his pockets.
Charlie cleared her throat. She watched him with a longing that pierced Sam’s heart. She had seen her sister cry more today than when they were children. Sam wanted to drag her sister after Ben and make Charlie beg for forgiveness. She was so damn obstinate. She never apologized for anything.
“Get in the car.” Lenore climbed behind the wheel. She slammed the door.
Sam gave Charlie a questioning look, but she shrugged as she crawled across the back seat, leaving space for Sam.
Lenore was pulling away as Sam shut the door.
Charlie asked, “Where are we going?”
“Office.” Lenore turned onto the main road. She sped through a yellow light.
“My car is at the police station,” Charlie said. “Is there a reason we’re going to the office?”
“Yes,” was all Lenore would give.
This seemed to be enough for Charlie. She slumped down in the seat. She looked out the window. Sam guessed that she was thinking about Ben. The urge to grab Charlie, to shake some sense into her, was overwhelming. Why had her sister imperiled her marriage? Ben was the one good thing she had in her life.
Lenore turned down another side street. Sam finally got her bearings. They were on the bad side of town now, the place where the tourist dollars had stopped. Every building looked as derelict as it had thirty years ago.
Lenore held up a miniature Starship Enterprise. “Ben gave me this.”
Sam had no idea why he would give Lenore a toy.
Charlie seemed to know. “He shouldn’t have done that.”
Lenore said, “Well, he did.”
“Throw it away,” Charlie said. “Put it in the blender.”
Sam asked, “Can someone tell me—”
“It’s a thumb drive,” Charlie said. “And I’m guessing that it has something on it that will help our case.”
“Exactly,” Lenore said.
“Throw it the fuck away,” Charlie said, enunciating each word. “He’ll get in trouble. He’ll get fired. Or worse.”
Lenore tucked the thumb drive down the front of her bra.
“I’m not a part of this.” Charlie held up her hands. “If you get Ben disbarred, I will never forgive you.”
“Add it to the list.” Lenore swung the car down another side street. The old stationery supply building had been slightly altered. The plate glass in the front was boarded over. Thick security bars striped the other windows. The gated entrance was new, too. Sam was reminded of the wild animal park at the San Diego Zoo as the gate buzzed open, ushering them into a walled sanctum behind the building.
“You’re going to open the thumb drive?” Charlie asked.
“I’m going to open the thumb drive,” Lenore said.
Charlie looked to Sam for help.
Sam shrugged. “He wanted us to have it.”
“I fucking hate both of you.” Charlie jumped out of the car. She had the security door open, then the regular door, before Sam could speak with her.
Lenore said, “We can open the file in my office.”
Charlie stomped around a corner, turning on lights as she went.
Sam did not know whether to follow her sister or to give Charlie’s anger time to burn itself out. She felt wary of her sister. She was so changeable—celebrating Sam’s courtroom performance one minute, then denigrating her for doing her job the next. There was an undercurrent of misery flowing through Charlie that eventually pulled everything down.
“I’m this way.” Lenore nodded toward the other side of the building.
Sam followed her up another long hallway that was tinged with the odor of Rusty’s cigarettes. Sam tried to recall the last time she had been exposed to second-hand smoke. Probably in Paris before the indoor smoking ban.
They passed a closed door with Rusty’s name on the sign outside. Sam would have guessed this was his office from the smell alone. The rays of nicotine radiating from the door offered a further clue.
Lenore said, “He hasn’t smoked in the building for years. He brings it in on his clothes.”
Sam frowned. She had so many things wrong with her body that she could not imagine why someone would purposefully damage themselves. If two heart attacks did not serve as a wake-up call, nothing would.
Lenore pulled a set of keys from her purse. She held her clutch under her arm as she unlocked the door. She turned on the lights. Sam narrowed her eyes as they protested against the sudden, bright light.
When her pupils finally adjusted, she was met with a welcoming, tidy space. Lenore’s office was very blue. Light blue walls. Dark blue carpet. Pastel blue couch with throw pillows in various shades of blue. She said, “I like blue.”
Sam stood by the couch. “It’s very nice.”
“You can sit down.”
“I think it’s better if I stand.”
“Suit yourself.” Lenore sat at her desk.
“My leg is—”
“No explanation needed.” She leaned down and inserted the USB drive into her computer. She turned the monitor around so that Sam could see. “You want me to leave?”
Sam did not want to be perceived as any ruder than before. “I’ll let you decide.”
“I’ll stay.” Lenore clicked open the thumb drive. “One file. Just a series of numbers. Can you see?”
Sam nodded. The extension read .mov, which meant the file was video. “Go ahead.”
Lenore clicked the file name.
The video opened.
She clicked the button to make it fill the screen.
The image could have been a photograph but for the numbers ticking in the corner: 07:58:47. A typical school hallway. Blue lockers. Tan tiled floor. The camera was tilted too far down. Only half of the hall was visible to the lens, about fifty feet of open space. The most distant point showed a thin slice of light that must have come from an open doorway. Posters were on the walls. Graffiti peppered the lockers. The entirety of the space was empty. The footage was grainy. The color was washed, more of a sepia tone.
Lenore turned up the volume on the speakers. “No sound.”
“Look,” Sam pointed to the monitor. As she’d watched, a piece of cinder block had spontaneously chipped away from the wall.
“Gunshot,” Lenore said.
Sam looked at the round bullet hole.
A man ran into the hallway.
He had entered the scene from behind the camera. His back was to them. White dress shirt. Dark pants. His hair was gray, styled in a typical man’s cut, short in the back, parted on the side.
He stopped, abruptly, hands out in front of him.
No, don’t.
Lenore sucked air through her teeth as the man jerked violently once, then again, then again.
Blood misted into the air.
He collapsed to the floor. Sam saw his face.
Douglas Pinkman.
Shot once in the chest. Twice in the head. A black hole replaced his right eye.
A river of blood began to flow around his body.
Sam felt her hand cover her mouth.
Lenore said, “Oh, God.”
A small figure had rounded the corner. Her back was to the lens.
Pigtails flopping on either side of her head.
Princess backpack, shoes that lighted up, arms swinging.
She came to an abrupt stop.
Mr. Pinkman. Dead on the floor.