Chapter 11 - Behind the Freezer Door
The receipt smelled like cooking oil. I held it by the corners while Detective Grant photographed both sides.
"Who delivered it?" she asked.
"I didn't see anyone."
"Then don't go looking for them yourself."
I wanted to obey. I also wanted to drag Calvin Dorsey into the street and make him watch the full video the way I had watched it, with my heart lodged in my throat.
Instead, Grant went to Sunset Mile with a technician and the proper paperwork. I waited outside in Rachel's car. Through the diner window I could see the same red booth. Someone had put new dishes on it. The coffee was gone. The place looked exactly like a place where nothing had happened.
Malcolm stood by the register, pale and sweating. Dorsey spoke over him the entire time.
"We've cooperated," I heard through the partly open door. "This is harassment."
The technician found a network cable running behind the freezer-room wall and into a small locked office. Inside was a recording unit separate from the front counter system. The technician photographed its serial number and asked that it be preserved.
Dorsey folded his arms. "That's for deliveries. It doesn't face the dining room."
"Then it won't hurt to examine it," Grant replied.
A customer at the counter raised his phone. Dorsey immediately straightened his jacket and smiled for the lens.
As they brought the recorder out, Malcolm glanced through the window and met my eyes. He looked away, then slowly tapped two fingers against his pocket.
Ten minutes later, I got a text from a number I didn't know.
I DIDN'T MEAN FOR ANY OF THIS. CHECK WHAT HE PAID DANA TO SIGN.
I showed Grant. She read it twice and said quietly, "Now we're getting somewhere."
May you like
Then her phone rang. Her expression hardened.
"Nora," she said, "someone just broke into Jax Mercer's garage."
