Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Huh.” For a sound of disagreement, it was still content.
We sat that way for a while until Nick and Pierce returned, no expression on their faces.
I stood along with Aiden. “Did you identify him?”
Pierce held up a hand. “No talking about it.”
Nick zipped up his coat. “I’ll grab coffees while you two conduct another lineup, and then we can meet and discuss everything.” He eyed Aiden. “You sticking around?”
“Yeah. I’ll take a latte, no flavor,” Aiden said.
I wrinkled my nose. “Chai tea with almond milk and extra chai.”
Pierce gestured for me to follow him. “I’ll take the special, but no whipped cream. Make that oat milk, would you?”
“Jesus.” Nick shoved his hands into his pockets and strode toward the door.
Aiden squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll be here. Just do your best.”
Taking a deep breath, I turned to follow Pierce. How hard could this be?
We passed several offices until we reached a green metal door at the end of the hall. Drips of snow had melted across the worn tiles, and I was careful not to slip. Pierce held the door open for me, and I stepped inside the observation room. It was similar to the ones upstairs but wider.
Clearing my throat, I looked around. “I’ve never done this before.”
“It’s no problem.” Pierce hit a button so the blinds lifted on the one-way mirror.
I stood closer, curious, and peered inside the other room. “I’m glad they can’t see us.”
“No worries,” he said easily, putting his files on a table that held several half-empty coffee cups. “I’ll have the suspects come in, and then I’ll ask you some questions. Take your time. There’s no hurry to answer. I just need you to concentrate.”
“I understand.” My body chilled.
Pierce pressed a button on a mounted speaker box. “All right, send them in.”
I stiffened and watched as five men walked into the lineup room from a side doorway. According to the large background painted on the wall behind them, they all stood to about five foot four, my height. In addition, as a group, they appeared to be in their mid-sixties with grayish-white hair and very rounded bodies. Apparently Pierce thought he had caught the most obese of the three Cupids—the one who had smashed the jewelry cases and bagged the loot.
I gulped. “All right, so they’re all about the right height and size of the Cupid who physically took the jewels.” Although the other overweight guy had probably only been an inch taller than these men.
Pierce pressed the button again. “Number one, please step forward.”
The first guy did as he was asked. From this distance, I could see that his eyes were brown. I tried to think back to the eye color of the guy in the robbery. His face had been hidden well by the mask, and his body looked like this guy’s.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“All right, step back,” Pierce said into the speakerphone. “Number two, step forward.”
I recognized number two. He worked at the butcher shop in the center of town. What was his name? Mr. Crawley. Yeah, that was it. I didn’t know his first name, and I’d talked to him a few times. “I know him from the butcher shop but can’t connect him to the robbery.”
“Step back, number two,” Pierce spoke into the speakerphone. “Number three, step forward.”
The detective continued through all five, and I could not positively identify any of them as the man from the robbery. Then Pierce had them all say the words: we all are, much like the robber had. Their voices were lower and grittier.
I shook my head. “The robbers had some sort of voice distorters beneath their masks. They sounded tinny. None of these guys sound remotely close.”
Pierce nodded. “Can you identify any of these men from the robbery that occurred at Duke’s jewelry store on Friday?”
I studied each man and tried to remember the way they’d moved or even stood during the robbery. The guy on the far left kept stepping forward and rubbing his head, and he was sweating profusely. “That guy looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.”
“Answer the question, Albertini,” Pierce returned.
I looked again. The sweating man was the right size, and his face had flushed to an unhealthy beet-red color. His hand shook, and his gaze darted around. But even so, I could not identify him for sure.
“I’m sorry, Grant. I just can’t,” I said.
“That’s all right.” He leaned into the microphone again. “Take them out. That’s all we need for tonight.” He pushed a button, and the blinds slowly covered the one-way glass.
I grimaced. “Was Basanelli able to identify your suspect?”
“Nope,” Pierce muttered. “Neither was Duke Walls from the jewelry store.” He grabbed his file folders. “Come on, let’s go up to the office and talk about it.”
My shoulders hunched. I followed behind him, feeling like I’d failed, but Nick hadn’t pointed out the guy either. If Pierce had the right person, our failure to identify him wouldn’t help in trial, that was for sure. But the case was in its early stages.