“I’m taking the detective exam in a couple of months, so I’m grateful for the experience.”
“I heard from the medical examiner a few minutes ago,” Seth said. “The official cause of death was asphyxiation by manual strangulation. Amber Lynn was killed either at the scene or close to it. She appeared healthy. Hank saw no signs of drug or alcohol abuse, but the usual toxicology reports are pending. He found skin under her nails. She clearly fought back, but the damage to her neck indicates that whoever killed her did it in a rage.”
“So we can match DNA if we get a suspect.” Phil opened a computer window and a grainy film of the front door of Fletcher’s appeared. “Just like Bruce’s pal said, here’s Travis White going into the bar.”
Seth noted the time stamp on the video. “He went in at ten twenty-seven. What time did he leave?”
“Eleven fifteen.” Phil fast-forwarded the clip, and they watched Travis leave the bar.
“Wait.” Seth stood. “Go back. Play both of those clips again.”
Phil replayed the few seconds of Travis walking into the bar, then the video of him walking out.
“Freeze it.” Seth pointed at the now-still image on the monitor. “What do you see?”
Phil leaned in. “He’s holding his hand to his body.”
“He wasn’t doing that on his way in. The little rat told me he caught his finger in a car door. Why do they lie? They always get caught.” Desperate for caffeine, Seth tossed the disgusting sludge in his cup back like a shot. “We need to bring Travis in for questioning.”
Pulling out his cell phone, Seth called Luke White. “I need to talk to Travis.”
“He’s not here,” Luke said. “I tossed him out.”
“Do you know where he went?” Seth asked.
“No, but he’s not at my parents’ house.” Luke said. “I just left their place twenty minutes ago. If I see him, I’ll hold him for you.”
“Thanks.” Seth ended the call. Next he dialed Travis’s parole officer and left a message when he didn’t answer the phone.
“You have the tape of Bruce and Amber Lynn leaving the bar?” Seth asked.
Phil clicked on another window. “Here’s the parking lot video of the band packing the equipment into Bruce’s van.”
The van was parked alongside the building. After the van was loaded, Bruce and Amber Lynn got into the vehicle and drove away. Psych and Spencer left in a beat-up sedan. Other customers came and went as the video played.
“Do you want to know what else I found on the surveillance films?” Phil asked.
Seth lowered his phone. “What?”
Phil opened a new window on his computer and played the feed from a different camera. The back hallway of Fletcher’s appeared on the screen. Phil fast-forwarded through three-quarters of the video. Freezing the frame, he pointed to the time stamp, then advanced the film several frames. The time on the corner of the screen jumped forward. “Seventeen minutes of video are missing.”
“Did he think we wouldn’t notice?” Seth tossed the empty cup in the trash. “There’s something about these videos that feels familiar.”
Phil scratched his stubbled chin. “I bet you’re thinking about the Samantha Lyle case. She went missing two months ago after a fight with her boyfriend.”
“Yes. That’s the one.” Seth had been with the task force when she’d disappeared, but he’d heard about her case. “The detective in charge thought the boyfriend did it but couldn’t find the body.”
“Did you know that right before she went missing she was at Fletcher’s?”
“Seriously?”
Phil nodded. “We had footage of Samantha and her boyfriend arguing on the parking lot surveillance video. They’d gone to the bar in separate cars. She drove off. He left a couple of minutes later. No one ever saw her again.”
“I was still working on the task force two months ago, but I must have seen a piece of the video.” Seth pondered the similarities between the two cases. “Who’s handling the Lyle case?”
“Detective Summers, but he’s out of town this week,” Phil said.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The fact that both girls had been at Fletcher’s could be a coincidence. There are only two bars in town. For now we’ll just keep that on the back burner.” Though Seth might call Summers in the morning. He stood and reached for his jacket. “Let’s go see Bob.”
They drove out to Fletcher’s. Seth remembered the black paint on the rear end of Bruce’s van as they got into the patrol car. “What does Bob drive?”
Phil tilted the laptop on the console toward himself and hit a few keys. “Bob Fletcher drives a black 1991 Ford F-150.”