Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
She’d gone over all the case details that afternoon, but sometimes something stuck out that hadn’t before if you looked at a report or a piece of evidence under different circumstances and in an alternate location, and so she did that now as she ate alone.
The bus driver hadn’t been able to offer them any information at all, and so they’d spent the afternoon scouring casino websites for pictures of uniforms and then narrowing it down to ten. They’d gone to each of those locations, but there were no employees unaccounted for, so that had been a dead end. Of course, there could be other workplaces—restaurants, bars, hell, strip clubs—where they wore similar uniforms, so it had been a crapshoot (no pun intended) to target the casinos first anyway. She couldn’t help wondering how much demand there was at any strip club for a fifty-something woman who wasn’t all that attractive, but decided to move on quickly from that particular line of question.
She and Kat had gone to the Emerald Isle Hotel and Casino, Sienna’s nerves vibrating, but they hadn’t caught a glimpse of Gavin Decker. She’d tried to prepare herself in case something within the establishment would prompt them to speak with security, but that hadn’t been the case. There were a few of the decks of cards for sale that matched the ones that had been placed in the victim’s hand, but when they’d had the manager of the gift shop check her computer, she’d told them that the only four decks purchased over the past three months had been paid for in cash. What were the odds? Sienna rarely paid for anything in cash anymore, and she figured most people were the same. “Not tourists,” Kat had said when she’d voiced the thought aloud. “Tourists always carry cash for trinkets, to tip, et cetera.” Good point, but unfortunate for their case.
They’d left with no leads but no sighting of Gavin Decker, a mixed bag in Sienna’s mind. They’d gone to the Emerald Isle in person because of the connection between the cards and the head of security, but when the lead hadn’t panned out, they’d thought it more efficient to make calls to the other casino gift shops in the area. Several of them carried the cards and were looking into the decks that had been purchased in the last three months using a trackable payment method, but that would take at least a couple of days.
Kat had mentioned talking to Gavin Decker to see if he might have any insight into the cards with the swan design, but that wasn’t immediately necessary. The cards were sold all over the city. If they did decide they’d benefit from posing a few questions to Gavin, Sienna wasn’t sure how she’d handle that. She’d probably have to tell Kat she’d once known him and let Kat take that job. However, if there was any conflict of interest, it was weak. She hadn’t spoken to the man in eleven years.
As Sienna distractedly stuck another fry in her mouth, her gaze hung on a couple at the bar, their heads close together as the man said something and the woman laughed, crossing her legs and flipping her hair. Sienna didn’t have to be a detective to recognize those cues.
She likes you, dude. I hope you’re not a dirtbag.
She focused back on the notes of the case, pulling the copy of the writing found on the victim from the stack before reading it for what felt like the hundredth time. It disturbed her. Who had written it? The killer? Had he planted it in his victim’s waistband to offer a small glimpse into his life? Telling the investigators who would find it that he’d once been an abused child?
Or was it something else entirely? A piece of fiction the perp had written for reasons unknown? Or something, fiction or otherwise, written by someone else entirely—a friend of the victim? Heck, maybe it was something random the woman had picked up on the street that had no connection whatsoever to the crime committed against her.
But that didn’t feel right.
No, this meant something. They just didn’t have enough information yet to figure out what.
Sienna replaced the piece of writing back in the pile, then closed the folder. She needed a good night’s sleep. She needed a clear brain. And hopefully a break in the case would come tomorrow.
After a day of no new leads, the press conference had been their best bet, but there hadn’t been any immediate calls to the station. And so Sienna had headed out after a long, grueling day and, feeling unusually lonely, had decided to stop in this bar on her way home. She supposed she was homesick, even if, in a way, this was her home. Or it had been. But she was a stranger now, and that brought up all sorts of complicated emotions.