Jessica was in the kitchen nodding to something a uniformed cop was saying, her arms crossed as she watched the activity in the apartment.
Jim motioned to her, his manner urgent. Her forehead knit in confusion as she waved off something the uniform was asking and crossed to Jim.
'What?'
'Where does he keep his camera?' The uniformed cop appeared at the top of the stairs.
She turned and pointed to the bed in the far corner. 'On his bedside table.'
Damn. The only thing he saw was a clock radio blinking at the floor. 'Distract the cop coming in, okay?'
Jessica seemed to know the officer, and with her running interference, he hurried to the bed and knelt, not caring if he destroyed evidence. The comforter hung on the floor and he lifted it out of his way and almost shouted with relief. The camera appeared intact under the bed. He snagged it and tucked it inside his coat, then tightened the belt, hoping the cut of the trench coat would hide the bulge.
Jessica pointed to the pillar and the cop approached it. While the officer's attention was diverted, Jim sauntered towards the door.
As Jim waited, he listened to the chatter of the cops as they hurried in and out of the studio and loft. The evidence team had found tire tracks in the snow behind the studio along with dozens of footprints. What had everyone really worried were the faint prints of someone who was barefoot. Measurement of that print corresponded to the size of Taylor's shoes up in his loft. That, along with the blood and hair had been ample enough evidence that the whole building was now cordoned off with yellow police tape.
A uniformed officer poked his head into the studio. 'Officer Sheridan, there's a Lily Martin outside; says she needs to speak to you.'
Jim glanced around, ready to have the officer bring Lily back, but then thought better of it. The fewer people who entered the room, the less chance of destroying any evidence that might turn up. He stood and circled the desk. 'I'll go outside to talk to her. Could you let Detective Bishop know that I'll be in my car?'
The young cop nodded. 'Yes, sir.'
Walking through the studio, Jim exited the building, squinting in the glare of the bright lights from the television news cameras. Lily stood off to Jim's right.
'Excuse me, sir. Can you state who you are and what can you tell us about the disappearance of Mark Taylor?' A slew of microphones were shoved in Jim's face. He blinked against the lights and batted away a microphone.
'Do you think this has anything to do with all the talk about Taylor's claim to have divine powers?'
'Is it true that the police believe Taylor was kidnapped? What did you find?'
Jim held up his hands. 'You need to direct your questions to the Chicago P.D. I'm not affiliated with the department.'
'Is it true that you're with the CIA and why is the CIA involved in this investigation?'
Jim found the reporter who voiced the question and pinned him with a hard look. 'No comment.'
'Is there a government cover-up going on?'
Jim ignored the question and elbowed his way through the throng and moved towards Lily. The comment about divine powers bothered him. In all the articles he had read, and news stories he'd seen, never once had Taylor claimed anything and he just couldn't let that reporter's question pass as though it was fact.
He turned back and said, 'One thing, though. You're wrong to say Taylor ever claimed to have any powers, divine or otherwise. It was all you guys…the media, who made up all that crap. If something has happened to Mr. Taylor because of all your speculation…'
Jim had wanted to end his comment with a bang, but instead, it petered out as what he said hit him. Something bad had happened to Taylor. He'd seen it already. Time was wasting and the reporters were just in the way.
He caught Lily's eye and inclined his head towards his vehicle, 'Why don't we go sit in my car and talk? It's a zoo inside and it's not much better out here. Besides, I'm cold.'
'…so that's pretty much it. Jessica and I called it in after that.' Jim sighed and rubbed his eyes.
Lily brushed away a tear that raced down her face. 'All these…lies people have been saying about Mark have really had him down.' She repeatedly wrapped and unwrapped her purse strap around her hand.
'Has he had any threats? Did anyone call or approach him? Anything?'
Lily shook her head and dug a tissue out of her bag, dabbing her nose it. 'Not really, but I did have to put the business phone straight to voice-mail. I'm not sure Mark knew about it though. He's been kind of busy the last few days.'
Jim noticed Lily shiver and so he turned the car on and cranked up the heat.
'Busy doing what?' From what Jim had heard the other day, most of the customers had been media and Taylor had been trying to avoid them.
'You know what he does so take a wild guess.' Lily rubbed her forehead as though trying to ease the pain of a headache. 'Besides, what does it matter?'
Jim looked out the front window, noting the arrival of even more news vans. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. 'It could matter a lot. We should know all of his movements from the time the story broke. I just have a feeling the story is connected somehow to Taylor's disappearance.' He turned to her. 'Did he do anything unusual in the last few days?'
Lily let out a snort. 'By Mark's standards, no. The only thing he even mentioned was the lunch he had yesterday with a family on the north side. It wasn't anything bad though. At least, that's not the impression that I had.'
Jim rummaged in his glove box for a notebook and pen. 'Do you have a name?'
'I think the man's name was Scott something…oh, wait, it was Palmer. Scott Palmer. But, like I said, Mark didn't say anything bad about them, just that they were nice people and I think they did ask Mark about the stories in the paper.'
'Did you get the impression that Mark was afraid of him?'
'No, not at all. If anything, their questions seemed to make Mark wonder about something in his own life and how to handle it.'
'You mean the camera?'
She slanted him a glance. 'So you know about that too?'
Jim pulled the camera out from beneath his coat and gestured toward the second floor of the building. 'I took it from upstairs. I was hoping it could hold some answers for us.'
Lily frowned and looked from the device to him. 'How? Without Mark here to dream-'
'I dreamed,' he cut in. He set the camera in her hands. 'I'm hoping that there's a picture on it that could correspond to what I dreamed.' Aw, hell. It sounded as stupid as he feared, but he had to take the chance.
'That's not how it works though. Mark dreams after seeing the photos.' She checked the film counter. 'He didn't develop this one.' Tears filled her eyes again. 'I told him not to. Told him he should get some rest instead. What if there's a picture of whatever happened to him on here and he could have stopped it?'
He didn't want to be cruel, but there was no time for guilt and recriminations. 'Listen, Lily. We can't do anything about the past, we can only worry about now.' He tapped the top of the camera. 'I want you to develop this film.'
'Right now?'
'Yes.'
'But where? The dark room is in there,' she pointed to the studio, 'and I doubt they'll let me in to process film.'
She was right. He thought about going back to his office building. If he recalled, there was a photo lab to process crime scene photos, but he wasn't sure he wanted to use that lab. It would involve red tape that he didn't
