hand exploring the contours of her slender waist. He maneuvered himself behind her. That same hand pulled the fabric down, moving from one side of her waist to the other, until he shimmied her jeans down around her ankles.
“Don’t worry,” said the man. “I won’t look.”
Chapter 63
For the past few hours Rainy and Carter had tried without success to make sense of the disparate hash values of the images Mann had given them. They were examining four of Mann’s pictures. The girl Rainy had officially ID’d was Gretchen Stiller.
“Same composition,” Rainy said to Carter.
“Exact same.”
“So why don’t these images generate the same hash value?”
“The pixels aren’t the exact same, that’s why.”
“How so?” Rainy asked.
“Take a look at the color composition of the images when compared side to side. I’ve arranged them on my monitor screen to run from lightest to darkest.”
Rainy could see that each image was progressively darker than the previous one.
“So the colors aren’t the same. What do you know about color depth in computer graphics?” asked Carter.
“About as much as I know about caring for houseplants,” Rainy said. Her spider plants were almost ready for their last rites.
“Maybe if you used your home for something more than a glorified storage locker, they might be thriving,” Carter said.
“Back to the color depth,” Rainy said.
“The job is never going to end, Rainy. There’s always going to be bad guys out there. We can’t get them all.”
“As you were saying—”
“These images are moments in time that’ll last forever. You can’t say the same thing about your life.”
“The color depth, please, Cart,” Rainy said, more irritated this time.
“Right. Color depth in computer graphics describes the number of bits used to create the color of a single pixel. The higher the color depth, the greater the range of distinct colors that can be used.”
“And the connection to these four?”
“The precision to which color can be represented gets pretty technical. At the pixel level there are slight variations to color that aren’t visible to the naked eye, but that would change the hash values.”
“Where did Mann get these images?”
“Four different sources,” Carter said.
“So each source altered the pixel colors slightly?”
“It looks that way to me,” Carter said.
“Why would somebody do that?” Rainy asked.
“That’s the question we need to answer.”
Rainy’s cell phone rang. She answered it.
“It’s the coach,” Rainy said, covering the phone. Rainy felt a little pulse of excitement, which took her by surprise. She couldn’t believe how happy she was to hear from him.
Rainy listened to Tom talk for several minutes without saying a word. “Of course I will,” she eventually said into the phone. She ended the call and turned to Carter. “Lindsey Wells is missing,” she said.
“Missing? As of when?”
“Sometime between last night and this morning.”
“Why is Hawkins calling you?” asked Carter.
“His daughter, Jill, may have found the sext image collection on Mitchell Boyd’s computer.”
“What now?” Carter asked.
“You’re going to try to figure out why people would make slight alterations to the same image composition.”
“And you?”
“I’m going to check out a new lead for our James Mann investigation,” Rainy answered him. “And maybe, just maybe, help find a missing girl in the process.”
Chapter 64
On the drive to Shilo, Rainy thought about Lindsey Wells. Her mind painted the gruesome image of a dead girl in the woods, and so she tried to think of something, anything else. Then she’d think about Tom Hawkins.
Rainy parked her sedan on the side of the road. She exited the car and followed a brick walkway to the front door. She rang the bell and waited. Through the sidelight window, Rainy watched Tom Hawkins descend the staircase. He extended his hand to her as he opened the door.
“Thanks for taking the time to come all the way up here,” Tom said.
Again Rainy felt that flash of attraction. Was she not seeing the case right? Was that attraction clouding her judgment? She pushed those thoughts aside. She needed to reestablish the divide between the law and the rest. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to come inside?” she asked.
“Of course,” Tom said. “We’re glad you’re here.”
“We?”
“Marvin, my attorney. And Jill.”
Rainy followed Tom into the home. Jill was waiting for them at the top of the stairs. She waved as soon as she saw Rainy. When Rainy reached the top of the landing, the two shook hands. Rainy glanced into the living room and next down the hallway but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Jill, I’m so sorry we’re meeting again under these circumstances,” Rainy said.
Jill nodded quickly, several times, which Rainy took to mean “Thanks, but I can’t talk about it yet.”
Marvin, who was dressed in a tracksuit, shook Rainy’s hand as well. “Sorry about the attire,” Marvin said. “Tom’s got me on a new workout program. Five pounds in two weeks. Not bad.”
“No. Very impressive,” said Rainy.
“I really appreciate the tip you gave me about the computer battery,” Marvin said. “It’s going to make a difference.”
“D.A. isn’t going to drop the charges,” Rainy said. “They told me that several times.”
“Me as well,” Marvin said. “But the jury is going to see it as a huge hole. Big enough to dump in truckloads of reasonable doubt.”
“As long as we’re on the same page,” Rainy heard herself say. She sounded cold. Detached. Was she just being protective of herself? Was she afraid of getting close to them—to Tom and Jill? He was going to be tried for the very crimes she’d dedicated her life to preventing. She worried it was a trial they couldn’t win. Unless she could prove otherwise, Tom Hawkins might be going to jail for a very long time.
“Agent Miles, this case is not what it seems,” Marvin said. “I’m glad you’re here to help.”
