One Last Step Sarah Sutton (i read books TXT) 📖

he reached for the compass on the counter and put it away. Tara nudged his arm. He looked startled, but then she pointed at the camera and he saw it too.

“You mind if we take a look?” he finally said.

***

Tara peered at the monitor, with Warren next to her side, carefully dissecting the moving images on the screen. After spending some time rewinding through the video footage, they were finally able to lock down the first two victims. But, just as the shop owner explained, there was nothing eventful from their visit. They came in together, early morning, purchased a few unordinary objects, and left. There were no suspicious customers at the time, no unusual behavior. It was just as anyone would expect.

They carefully observed the footage in the days that followed—customers coming and going, the shop owner assisting them—but again, nothing curious caught their eye, and they continued to fast-forward until they reached the prior day’s footage.

“Stop,” Warren commanded, causing Tara to immediately pause. “There,” he said as he pointed at the corner of the screen.

Tara narrowed her eyes. A woman with long brown hair stood by the entrance to the store, wearing the same brown hiking boots with red laces Tara saw only hours earlier—it was unmistakably the third victim.

“Fast-forward a bit,” Warren said, and Tara did so until she paused again and let the video play. The woman walked toward one side of the store, surveying the water jugs carefully lined along the wall. Tara studied her movements. There was nothing unusual about her behavior, and it was hard for Tara to grasp that this was the same woman whose body made her nauseated when she caught wind of its scent that very morning.

But then something else caught Tara’s eye. A man was walking toward her from the opposite side of the store. Tara paused again and rewound the footage. She’d missed him moments earlier, too fixated on the victim. But now she saw that he was there all along, concealed behind a rack of clothing. He was carefully pushing each item aside in a mechanical fashion, as if he had no intent to buy anything, and then he noticed her as she came in.

Tara studied him as his eyes looked up upon her entrance, and as they remained there while he continuously pushed aside each shirt on the rack and then gained the courage to walk over to her. Their encounter was brief. They spoke for just a moment. She smiled at him before he said something to her, and then she thanked him and left the store. Moments later he stood at the counter, speaking to Mr. Baker, who had just emerged from the back room. He purchased something and then left as well.

Tara immediately looked up to see Warren’s eyes locked on the screen too.

“Mr. Baker!” he called out, urgently.

The shop owner hurried into the back room of the store.

“What is it? I was helping a customer,” he said with annoyance. But, as he got close to the monitor, his eyes widened in confusion. “Is that the same woman you showed me a picture of earlier?”

Warren swiftly nodded. “Rewind it,” he said.

Tara did as she was told and then paused right when the woman entered the store.

“Do you remember seeing her?” Warren asked.

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Uh…no…no, I don’t.”

Tara knew Warren already knew the answer, since the shop owner didn’t seem to be present in the recording, but he had to ask anyway.

“Let it play,” Warren said.

Tara hit the space bar and the video continued. They all watched intently, Tara’s eyes now fixated on the man, dissecting him for anything she missed. She finally paused again when they had a clear view of the looks of him.

“Who’s that man?” Tara asked as she pointed to him on the screen. The shop owner remained silent but Tara could tell in his eyes that he recognized him, yet the shock of what she and Warren seemed to assume left him speechless.

“That’s Greg Davis,” he finally said, his eyebrows knit in confusion. “He comes in here often.”

“What exactly does he come in here for?” Tara asked.

The shop owner still stared at the screen, trying to make senses of what he was seeing. “He’s a hunter, so he comes in to get supplies sometimes,” he replied.

A hunter, Tara thought. He was sounding increasingly more like a suspect. “Has he ever purchased a crossbow from you?”

“We don’t sell stuff like that here.”

“What kind of stuff does he usually buy?”

The shop owner finally looked up from the screen. “Usually he’ll just buy things like flashlights, rain gear, pocketknives, stuff like that.” He paused as he saw the suspicion in Tara’s eyes. “Look…I know this all doesn’t look good, but I know Greg pretty well. I really don’t think he could’ve done something like this.”

“We’re not saying he did anything,” Tara replied. “We just want to speak with him. Do know where he lives?”

He nodded skeptically, but reached for a piece of paper next to the computer and scribbled down an address.

“Thanks,” Tara said as he handed it to her.

She turned toward Warren. The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, as if he were holding back a smile, and then he nodded. Tara wondered if maybe he was growing to enjoy their partnership. But the moment quickly faded as his face became suddenly stern. They now had a possible suspect, and Tara knew he didn’t want to waste any time.

Chapter Eight

The home came into view and Tara couldn’t help but admire it. It was a large cottage, sitting on about a few acres of land with the thick forest in the distance. Perfectly arranged flowers were in a bed beneath each window. The house was well taken care of, and there was such a tranquility about it that Tara found it oddly ironic.

Warren pulled the car into the driveway and they quickly followed the cobblestone pathway to the porch. Tara knocked, and seconds