“Can I see the proof of delivery slip?” Wolfe narrowed his gaze. “What about the period between eight and nine?”
“I was in my apartment, alone, having breakfast.” Provine let out a long, aggravated sigh. “I’ll make you a copy of the delivery note.” He moved to the counter, took out a box crammed with paper, sifted through, then slid one into a scanner. He handed the document to Wolfe. “Is that all? I really need to keep an eye on the kids before they break something.”
Jenna took the copy from Wolfe and read the information. As Provine had stated, the delivery arrived at nine. She folded the paper and moved her attention back to the storekeeper. “Thank you. Do you know Felicity Parker?”
“Yes, she comes in frequently with her friends.”
Jenna nodded. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“Saturday, she was in with the usual crowd.” Provine looked interested. “Yes, that was the last time. She didn’t come by yesterday. I remember her friends asking me if I had sent her any bonuses because she wasn’t answering her phone earlier in the morning. They thought she might be playing her game, and you know kids, they get engrossed for hours at a time.”
“And did you send her any bonuses?”
“Yes, I sent out quite a few on Sunday, it brings the kids back into the store. You have no idea how keen they are to play the latest games. During summer break, Lucas and Chad are usually waiting outside the store for me to open. They catch the early bus into town.” Provine smiled. “They always end up buying a game or one of the new gadgets, and the girls are great at grabbing my lunch. It saves me closing up for an hour like today.”
That proves where Chad and Lucas were on Monday morning. “You send them out in emails?”
“No.”
Jenna met his gaze and shrugged. “So if you don’t use email, I gather you text them these game bonuses and… ah ‘cheat codes’, you would have to know their cellphone numbers? Exactly how many of these underage girls’ numbers do you have in your contacts list?”
“Zero.” Provine gave her an indignant glare. “They play online. Haven’t you ever played a game on Facebook or one of the other interactive games sites? It’s a community and people have player names. Most of the kids tell me their player ID so we can swap bonus cards online. I send the bonuses et cetera to their gift boxes.”
“Okay.” Wolfe flicked her a glance and closed his notepad. “That’s all we need for now. I’ll drop by and place an order soon.” He turned for the door.
Jenna followed him into the street. “What do you think?”
“I’ll have to unpack my equipment to discover if he is doing anything.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Jenna opened the door to the cruiser and slipped inside. “What could he be doing?”
“I’m not sure yet but if he is chatting in an online games room, he could be dangerous, but Felicity and her friends seem to be playing online using their cellphones. If this is the case, without the phone, we have zip. I doubt I’ll find anything via their computers.” Wolfe dropped into the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt. “I’ll spend the rest of the day checking out Felicity’s laptop and see if anyone has hacked it, but don’t expect instant results—it takes time, maybe a day or two.”
Jenna started the engine and headed back toward the sheriff’s office. “Can you explain in plain English? I understand hacking but what relevance does that have to the case?”
“She might have been telling her friends on social media her plans for the day. Kids share everything and don’t seem to worry who reads their posts or looks at their images. They friend anyone because the number of friends they have is a status symbol.”
Jenna pulled the vehicle into her reserved parking space and turned in her seat to stare at him. “Is that possible? I mean, social media have privacy laws as a fail-safe. No one could find out where she lives for instance.”
“There lies the problem. Once information is out there in cyberspace, it’s too late. The kids post pictures of their locality and friends all the time and it wouldn’t take a hacker to track them down.” Wolfe gave her an intense stare. “In my line of expertise there is no such word as ‘fail-safe’ on the internet.”
Twenty-Six
Kane leaned over Rowley’s desk and stared at the computer screen. “How did you get onto her Facebook page?”
“I did a search and found her easily enough via my own page.” Rowley scrolled down the screen.
Felicity Parker’s smiling face beamed out at him from her Facebook page. His stomach clenched at the sight of her looking so happy in the selfie taken the morning of her murder. “She looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world.”
“No, she mentions getting a game bonus on Sunday night and posted on her timeline fifteen minutes before her boyfriend called her.” Rowley turned in his seat and looked up at him. “I’ve looked at all her posts leading up to her death, it’s all normal chatter, plans to go to the dance, what she planned to wear, how many characters she caught in her game.” He shrugged. “All the posts came via her cellphone.”
“When Wolfe gets back, he’ll go through her laptop and see what he can find. I’m not expecting him to get any information today—it’s getting late, and with his girls at home, he won’t be doing any overtime.” Kane glanced up at the sound of voices at the front counter. “Ah, that has to be Mr. Rogers’ lawyer. I’ll speak to him. Go and collect his client from the lockup.” He straightened and headed for the front desk.
“Deputy Kane, I presume?” The small, balding man wiped sweat from his brow with a gray handkerchief and glared at him. “I insist on seeing my client, Steve Rogers, this moment.”
Kane folded his arms across his chest, which made the lawyer turn beet-red. “And you are?”
“Samuel Jenkins, Attorney at Law in the State of Montana.” Jenkins fished a card out of his jacket pocket and waved it at him. “I insist on seeing the arrest warrant.”
Kane noticed Rowley waving Steve Rogers into a seat at his desk and frowned. “You don’t have to insist, we follow the letter of the law. I must insist you keep the details of this interview secret. We haven’t released any details to the press and want time to investigate before we give out any information.”
“Of course, I will instruct my client not to speak to anyone about the incident.”
“Thank you. Your client is waiting for you at my desk if you’ll come this way.” Kane plucked the card from Jenkins’ hand and ran his gaze over it then led him to his cubicle at the back of the room.
He took the arrest warrant from his desk drawer and handed it to Jenkins. “We had probable cause.” He stuck the document into the lawyer’s hand and waited for his reaction.
“You don’t believe my client was involved in murder, do you?”
“What?” Steve Rogers’ eyes bulged in astonishment. “Murder? Who has been murdered? Not Millicent?”
Kane leaned back in his chair and took a pen from the cup on the desk. “Who is Millicent?”
“My wife.”
“And why would you think anyone would murder her?” Kane raised an eyebrow. “Is she missing?”
“You don’t have to answer that question, it is not relevant to the arrest warrant, and in fact you don’t have to say another word.” Jenkins mopped his sweaty brow.
“If your client has nothing to hide and can account for his whereabouts between the hours of eight and ten yesterday morning, he is free to go; however, if Millicent is missing, perhaps we can help.”
“She isn’t missing.” Rogers moved around in his chair. “We argued and she is probably at her sister’s.”
Kane made a few notes in an attempt to appear uninterested. “Maybe you should call to make sure she is safe?”
“Call her?” Rogers scowled and his eyes flashed with anger. “Trust me, if someone murdered her they would be doing me a favor.”