The six men were gathered around a monitor back in their office watching the same seventy-three seconds of grainy video over and over again. A woman walked into the frame and then stopped in front of a refrigerated row filled with lettuce. She was around five and a half feet tall and had long dark hair. She wore an oversized purse which she was digging into now. She pulled out a plastic bag and held it up to several different types of lettuce. After a few seconds, she pulled the contents out and began comparing them to what was on the shelves. From the shape and size of the leaves in her hand, it was clear she was holding the monkshood. A few more seconds passed and she tucked it back in the plastic bag and shoved that into her purse before selecting three different types of lettuce and putting them in the basket at her feet. She moved out of the frame and the angle changed to show her standing in line at the self checkout. All of the contents of the fatal salad were scanned and the video showed a close shot of her face. The sketch artists and imaging experts were already working up posters for her and Jim had his computer doing a comparison of the still-frame he’d grabbed and all of the women in the crime database on the off-chance there might be a match. Thus far, nothing had cropped up. He wanted to run it against the DMV’s database but knew he’d have to get a sign-off from the captain for that. The man was not the easiest person to convince and he had a definite grudge against Alex’s team after they’d gotten into an inadvertent turf war on a drug bust. The captain’s son — a real golden boy — had been about three months from busting a ring running out of the French Quarter. However, Alex and Jim had busted the group first when the ring-leader’s name came up during another case they were working involving human trafficking. Alex managed to get a wiretap on them, got all of the info and evidence she needed for an arrest, and busted them. Bruised egos meant that getting the captain to sign off on anything for them was like pulling hen’s teeth.
“Maybe we could canvass the area?” Lewis suggested. “See if she’s a regular or if anyone knows her?”
“Patrol is on that already,” Sam muttered. “Any cameras in the parking lot? Maybe we could at least match her to her car.”
“The cameras outside were trashed by Katrina,” Jim sighed. “Haven’t been repaired yet.”
“What about other cameras in the area?” Yann asked.
“None were looking in the right direction,” Sam replied.
“Why are we just sitting here?” Lewis wondered aloud. “If we wait for patrol to get back to us, we could miss potential leads.”
“Then go out there and get them yourself, newbie,” Jim growled. “I’m going to go through the victim’s planner again and see if there is anything I missed.” Without another word, Jim pushed back from the computer desk, nearly running over Lewis and Jonah in the process. Lewis managed to bite back his growl as he leapt out of the way while his boss walked back towards his office where several of Patterson’s personal effects were stored. The rest of the team glanced over and watched, wondering how much more hazing the new guy was going to put up with before he lost his temper. Instead of saying anything, Lewis scrubbed a hand through his hair, setting his dark blond curls awry as he tugged lightly at the hair on the nape of his neck. His blue eyes were hard with annoyance and his lips were compressed in a thin line but he kept silent and just walked over to his own desk. He collected his notepad and a few other documents, put them in his briefcase, and then snapped it shut before strolling calmly out of the office.
“Jim’s going to get his ass kicked soon,” Yann laughed. “I don’t think Louis is going to put up with it forever.”
“I dunno,” Jonah chuckled, “New guy has a serious case of professionalism. Still, it’s going to be hilarious when Alex gets back.”
Lewis was glad for the extra water bottle that he had tucked in his briefcase. He’d thought Dallas was hot but New Orleans’ was hot and muggy — the humidity pulled the sweat right out of him. The sun glaring down on him didn’t help, either. He wished he’d thought to bring his sunglasses and prayed he wasn’t going to get a nasty case of sunburn from this. Walking around with a stack of papers featuring their current ‘person of interest’ had netted him no leads yet but his gut told him that if he waited it out, he’d find something. The way the woman had moved through the store without looking around told him she had to have been there before. It might not be the grocery store she used most often but it was one she was familiar enough with that she didn’t have to spend a lot of time searching for what she wanted. He was surprised that the others hadn’t picked up on it, but then, when it came to people, they were a little oblivious.
“Maybe when the lieutenant gets back, he won’t be quite as standoffish as the rest of his squad,” Lewis muttered to himself as he twisted the cap off his water bottle and took a gulp. Tucking the bottle back in his briefcase, he decided to walk through the store himself to get a sense of the scene. They had the time-stamp of when their Jane Doe had entered the store and roughly when she would have exited the premises. All told, she’d been in there less than a quarter-hour. They’d only bothered with the video that showed her with the murder weapon but the full video showed her browsing other aisles gathering more items — wine, salad dressing, bread rolls, even chocolates. Lewis wondered if the woman was possibly a girlfriend — in the romantic sense. He tapped out the question and sent it to Jim since the other Sergeant was the one checking Patterson’s planner. No sooner had he tapped the dimmer button on his phone than he glanced up to see the very woman he’d been looking for staring at him with an expression of absolute horror. She’d dropped her basket and her purse and was breathing heavily. All of the signs of fight or flight were clear in the way she was beginning to tremble. Lewis acted quickly and walked over to her. He grabbed her wrist tightly and pulled her so she was flush against his body. “I am Detective Lewis Harding,” he said calmly. “You aren’t under arrest yet but you are wanted for questioning. Come with me calmly and you might be able to work out a way to stay out of prison. Try something stupid and you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison for murder.”
Jim wasn’t surprised when Lewis walked in with the woman they were looking for. She was obviously a regular at the store from the way she’d moved through without needing to look at any of the signs or ask for directions. She’d known exactly where everything she’d wanted was and there had been zero hesitation in her selection so she’d not only been a regular, she was a local and had been living in the area for at least five years which meant that canvassing the area was, more likely than not, going to get them nowhere. The woman was good looking, true, but she wasn’t stunning enough to make men stop and take a second look or women jealous. That made her anonymous and unremarkable unless she did something to make herself stand out. In his experience, Jim noticed that women had to be exceptionally good looking or exceptionally ugly to be remembered if they did not have some kind of unusual feature. Men, on the other hand, tended to be easier for people to call to mind. It wasn’t a universal rule, true, but it worked frequently enough that he could rely on it in his own methodology.
“Did she say anything to you?” Jim asked Lewis as the two of them stood outside of the interview room watching the woman through the window.
“Nothing useful,” Lewis said softly. “She started sobbing when we got in my car. She was shaking by the time we got out of the store, Sergeant Noble.”
“What’s your read on her?”
“I think she knows she’s busted.”
“Why do you think she did it?”
“Honestly? Could be jealousy. Could be rivalry. Could be any number of reasons. Did you find any connections between them? Her name is Sarah Mason.”
“She’s a hairdresser. The victim had an appointment with her next week. Other than that, I can’t see any connections between them,” Jim said. He sounded baffled.
“How do you want to play this?”
“How did you handle her?”
“Calm but firm. I told her that she wasn’t under arrest yet but that this was her one chance to avoid prison.”
“Right. I’ll go in there and play the confused bureaucrat, then. Go tell the rest of the team that we’re going to be doing the Ministry of Silly Walks rotation. They’ll know the drill. Newbie, you just do whatever comes naturally but you go last,” Jim said with a faint grin.
Lewis blinked and shook his head in confusion. Had he walked into a police precinct this morning or an insane asylum?