Zapelli had several changes of clothes appropriate for the weather. He had excessive grooming products, including four kinds of mousse and gel, cologne, expensive shampoo and conditioner. His clothes had been neatly—almost obsessively—folded, and his dirty clothes were in a plastic bag—also folded.
Nothing jumped out at her. She stared at the clothing and toiletries. Nate put the contents of the laptop case next to them. “Receipts for gas, rental car, food, motel. The rental car traveled seven hundred twenty-one miles from when he picked it up on Friday to when he returned it this afternoon.”
“That’s a lot of miles,” Lucy said. She flipped through the receipts. There was a coffee receipt from a coffee shop across from the motel, gas in Laredo and Del Rio. “He was in Del Rio,” she said almost to herself. “He filled up Tuesday afternoon there. Only hours after Noah and I talked to Musgrove.” She took the receipts and made a story from them. He may have tossed a few, but there were enough receipts here that she could create a time line. What did he plan on doing, getting reimbursed from someone?
“He arrived in town early Friday afternoon. Checked into the motel, had lunch across the street.” She moved a few pieces around. “He had dinner in Freer that night. That would be the closest town to Our Lady of Sorrows.” There was nothing for Saturday, nothing to indicate whether he had returned to the motel; they would have to check with motel security—if there was any. “He ate with three other people on Friday,” she said, pointing to the items on the receipt. “He paid. Marisol had already left the house, they didn’t know where she was. She was traveling across open land until she stumbled into the Honeycutt barn.”
Nate slid over a receipt from five o’clock Monday morning. “This is a gas receipt near San Antonio.”
She had never heard of the small town, but she believed Nate. “So he comes to Laredo, goes to Freer because that’s where Marisol disappeared. Possibly back to Laredo, then to San Antonio at some point, probably Sunday.”
Nate moved another receipt. “He wouldn’t need to fill up his gas tank just driving from San Antonio to Del Rio, but he was nearly on empty when he filled up in Del Rio on Tuesday morning.”
“That’s a lot of driving around.”
“And the tank was nearly empty when he filled it up this afternoon before turning it in at the airport.”
“Del Rio to Laredo, halfway to Freer, back again?”
“Possibly. Maybe with another fifty or sixty miles in there somewhere.”
“If we assume he is the one who met Marisol after she called him on Tuesday night, he must have taken her someplace in a fifty-mile radius. The house outside Freer is empty, but we don’t yet have the files from the property management company.”
Lucy considered their options. “Noah and I only spoke to one person in Del Rio. Leo Musgrove. He was angry, thought we’d exposed him. Slimy bastard. But he’d originally moved the girls to the brothel. What if he works for Zapelli? Or Zapelli knew he was a loose end?” She sent Noah a message that Musgrove might have slipped town or that Zapelli may have talked to him on Tuesday. She moved the papers around. “He was back in Laredo at two p.m.—stopped at the Starbucks off I-35, I remember passing that on our way to Del Rio. Tried to convince Noah to stop, but he said I’d already had too much caffeine.” She almost smiled. Then she froze. “What’s this?”
She picked up two strands of long black hair that had been entwined in the buckle of the laptop case.
Nate pulled out an evidence bag, and she slipped the hairs inside. “If we can put Marisol with Zapelli, that gives us an edge,” Nate said.
“Let’s pretend we already did,” she said.
*
As they’d agreed, Nate took the lead. If Zapelli was who they thought he was, he would be more responsive to a male authority figure.
“Mr. Zapelli,” Nate said. “I’m Special Agent Dunning and this is Special Agent Kincaid. We’re with the Federal Bureau of Investigation and we have a few questions for you.” He sat down and took out a pen and small notepad. Lucy sat next to him and focused on watching Zapelli for the small psychological cues that might help them steer the conversation.
Zapelli smiled at her a moment too long, then turned back to Nate. “Agent Dunning, I have been very reasonable with your authorities after I was detained in security. I have no idea why, my luggage had no paraphernalia, as I’m certain you uncovered when you searched it.”
“What was the reason for your visit to the States?”
“Just needed some time away from family and work obligations.”
“You told your mother that a friend called and needed your help.”
It was immediately clear that Zapelli had not expected that they would have spoken to his family. He covered quickly and said, “My mother is elderly. I couldn’t very well tell her I needed a break from her and her constant errands. I am an only son. I’m responsible for many things at my father’s business and at home. I gave her an excuse that allowed me to remain a good son.”
Nate nodded, made a note. “What did you do while you were in Texas?”
He shrugged. “The usual.”