“Unless he didn’t do it,” Mark finished.
“Unless he didn’t do it,” Nora repeated. “Let’s consider another option.”
The phone on his desk rang and he scowled at her, mostly because he hated to be wrong.
“What?” he snapped into the phone. “Yeah. Yeah. Huh. Okay.” He hung up the phone and considered the information he’d just heard.
“So?”
“We got the security tapes from the office the night Haskell died.”
Nora waited for a beat. “And you’re building up the suspense here because…”
Because things were starting to get all sorts of murky. Mark didn’t like murky. He liked nice and simple. Bad guys, good guys. Innocent. Guilty. You find the guy who did it and you put him in jail. Then you win the girl and take her to bed.
“The tapes show that Santos showed up about midnight. Then about an hour later, Haskell left alone. The camera in the garage shows him getting into his Porsche and driving off. A few minutes later, a Mercedes, same model as Santos’s, with tinted windows, drives past a camera and leaves the garage.”
Nora sat up straighter in the hard metal chair.
“The tire treads taken from the scene match the brand of tire typically sold on a Mercedes.”
“Really,” Nora muttered. “So why do you look so unhappy?”
“Because the only tape we have of Santos leaving the building is at 5:00 a.m. the next morning. Walking out through the lobby.”
“Hmm.”
Mark looked up at Nora. Saw the obvious confusion in her face. “It’s not out of the question that he knew how to get in and out of the building without being picked up by the cameras. He’s an ex-con, remember? He knows how to be careful.”
“But he didn’t think of that when he drove by a camera to follow Haskell?”
“It’s the only way out of the garage.”
“You said he walked out the next morning. No car. You haven’t found the Mercedes?”
“No.”
“If he used it to push Denny’s Porsche off the road, the likelihood is that he would have dumped the car somewhere.”
Mark agreed.
“Let’s play it out. We know Haskell and Santos argued about something that afternoon. Santos goes back to the office again and Denny is there. They continue their earlier battle. Maybe Haskell found out about the altered financial statements. Quickly Santos decides he has to kill him. He sneaks out of the building without being picked up by the cameras, then manages to get to his car without being seen…”
“That’s conceivable,” Mark interrupted. “The garage is the first floor of the building. It wouldn’t be hard for someone to get over the wall and drop into the garage out of sight of the cameras. There’s only one at the elevator and one at the entrance and exit.”
“Okay, so he sneaks out of the building and back into the garage in time to follow his target. Then he tails him for what thirty, forty minutes?”
Mark mentally timed the drive from the office to the spot on the cliff where Denny went over the edge. “About right.”
“Pushes him off the road and over the cliff. There has to be a mark on his car. Paint scratches, something. So he dumps the car. Where?”
“Who knows? Down the road a ways. Over another cliff.”
“This would mean he would have to have had another car waiting to take him back to the office, which eliminates our idea that it was a spur of the moment decision. He couldn’t walk back and be there in time to take Steven’s four-thirty call. Maybe he phoned for a cab. They keep logs.”
“I’ll check with cab companies.”
“Or he drove back to San Jose and dumped the car somewhere close to the office. Then he snuck back into the building again without being seen. We have to assume he’s really rattled at this point, which is why he doesn’t destroy the doctored books. They’re the only motive we have for why he might have killed Denny. I mean he was sitting in front of his computer when Ford called. We know he checked the financials. Yeah, he was definitely flustered.”
Mark sneered at her. “You know, I don’t think I like you anymore.”
“Yes you do,” she said cheekily. “You should concentrate your search for the car in the area around the office building. Because it will be there somewhere if Santos is your guy.”
Mark frowned. What she laid out made perfect sense. Perfectly convoluted sense. But the biggest problem Mark had was digesting the fact that someone who had made the decision to kill as quickly as Dominic managed to pull it off so flawlessly.
“You know all he’s going to need for an alibi is proof that he was still in the building at the time Denny’s car was going over the cliff. A phone call. An e-mail. The computer time-stamps them.” Nora leaned back in the chair.
“The forensic guys are checking out his computer. And we’re waiting on the phone company for calls from the office as well as Santos’s cell and Haskell’s cell.” Mark pointed a finger at her. “You know, if I didn’t know you better…”
“You don’t know me at all, Detective.”
“I’m getting to,” Mark assured her. “I would say you seem almost smug. It’s like you know this guy is innocent and you’re just waiting for us to find that out.”
“How could that be?”
“Good question. Got an answer?”
Nora checked her fingernails. “Nope. I told you I’m just here to observe and report back to my superiors.”
“That is what you told me.”
Nora feigned offense. “Why Detective, I think I’m insulted. I believe you’re insinuating that I’m not being completely forthcoming.”
“Oh, not at all. I’m calling you an out-and-out liar.” He got up from his desk. “I’ve got other cases that need my attention. Until I hear back from the phone company or unless our guy shows up, there’s really no need for you to hang around here.”
Nora stood up, too. “First you call me a liar and now you’re kicking me out,” she grumbled. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“Go sightseeing, shortcake.”
“Have I not warned you about the ‘short’ thing?”
“I like to live dangerously,” he said and waved to her as she snatched up her purse and strolled out of the police station.
As soon as he saw the glass doors close behind her, he reached for his phone.
Chapter 10
Caroline dropped her suitcase inside the foyer of her dark house and felt Munch brush past her as the dog went in search of new smells. The trip had been one of the most excruciating ordeals of her life. Between the guilt she felt in leaving, the anger she felt at being told to go and getting a one-hundred-pound-plus Lab across the country, she was spent.
Looking down at the lone suitcase she’d quickly packed, she wondered if she would ever go back for the rest of her things. Wondered if he would ever come for Munch. She tried to tell herself that her only option was to take his dog. After all, who else would care for her? Caroline had easily dismissed his dog sitter as an option because she wanted Munch with her. It was only fair.
He broke her heart. She took his dog.
Relationship justice.
