Forever Hers Walters, Ednah (best novels for teenagers .TXT) 📖

he turned and left the room. If Sally noticed his drugged eyes, mussed hair or obvious arousal, she didn’t say anything. She just reversed the car and took off.

Eddie finger-combed his hair and focused on their surroundings. They were headed west over a bridge. “Where are we going?”

“Bill Burgess’ rental home. That’s the name he used to rent the house. Tomorrow, we’ll send the gloves to Salt Lake City for DNA testing to see if it matches the saliva on the cigarette filters we collected the other day.”

“What about the partial print on the crowbar?”

“We fed it through AFIS and got nowhere.”

Automated Fingerprint Identification System, or AFIS as it was often abbreviated, was a database of fingerprints of known criminals or anyone who’d ever been fingerprinted.

“We also found a print on the side of a laptop inside the rental house. The keyboard, the screen, the top and bottom were all wiped clean. People tend to forget the sides.”

“What else did you find at his rental home?”

“The usual—clothes, shoes, toiletry bag. The clothes and shoes are all new and never worn. Even his car is still parked outside and wiped clean.”

In other words, he was playing the local PD. Chances were he wasn’t even staying in that house. From what Amy had told him, Burgess had asked about other empty houses. But why leave the laptop behind?

“Any other fingerprints in the house?” Eddie asked.

“Plenty, but they’ve given us nothing. People move in and out of these houses like roaches. Not just the renters who come and go every week, but the housecleaning crew and the employees of the company managing them. It is impossible to know whose prints we are dealing with.”

“Did you check them against the Academy database to see if they match Reither’s?”

“We are, but so far no matches. You were right about the tire treads outside your lake house. Treadmate database matched them to a Dunlop K81 with a width of 4.25. Unfortunately, there’s no motorcycle at his place and neighbors hasn’t seen him ride one.”

Which meant that the bike was his prefer mode of transportation and hidden in his real rental home.

Sally pulled up outside a white house with blue shutters. The place swarmed with cops, which defeated the purpose. Burgess would know the police were at his place from a mile away. Then there were the gawking neighbors. He could never understood people’s morbid fascination with crime.

“You guys didn’t hear a motorcycle start last night, did you?” Sally asked as they walked to the house.

“No. From the change in the depth of tire marks, he pushed it to the highway before taking off.” Deeper tire marks meant there was weight on the bike.

Inside the house, the crime scene team was still dusting for fingerprints. Two officers and Briggs sat around a table and stared at a laptop as though it was alien technology.

Briggs waved. “Over here, City Slicker.”

Eddie smiled, the nickname growing on him. He joined them and frowned at the blue screen. “Let me guess. It’s password protected.”

“We’ve tried everything to crack it. Think you can take care of it?” Briggs indicated to one of the tech to give Eddie a chair.

“Not so fast,” Eddie said. “I’m not good with computers. However, I know people who are.”

“Call them.”

Eddie pulled out his cell phone and dialed Sly’s number. “Hey, I need you to hack into a password protected computer.”

Sly chuckled. “You’ve definitely crossed over to our side, detective.”

Eddie ignored the dig and explained the situation.

“We’ll need a video conference, so I can see everything you type,” Sly said.

Eddie glanced at Briggs. “I need to have a video conference.”

“Head back to the office and use the one in the briefing room.” Briggs heaved to his feet and everyone stood. “Sally, when they’re done here, choose two officers to stay behind in case Burgess shows up.”

Eddie waited until the tech guys left before speaking. “I don’t think he’s coming back here, captain. He’s probably watching us from another rental property nearby.”

The older guy studied Eddie then nodded. “I’m not going to ask how you reached that conclusion, Detective Fitzgerald, but if you happen to know where those empty houses are, we’d like the addresses.”

***

Amy finished with her laundry and walked to the front of the house, expecting to see crime scene tape. It was gone along with the cars. She found the bags with shards of glass and the crime scene tape. Eddie. Was there anything the man didn’t think about? She hauled the bags to a bin marked for glass disposal.

Back inside the house, she went to her computer and tried to work. She’d planned to print out her story for Eddie, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. Still, she turned on the printer, printed a copy and placed it in a yellow folder then she got online and checked her e-mail.

She’d chosen to use a pseudonym for her work and an old high school picture. As she studied her picture, her bangs, her long hair, a memory teased her.

Frowning, she took her laptop to where she’d left Eddie’s. He was still logged in on Ken Lambert’s company website. She clicked on the replay button and re-watched the surveillance videos on Nolan then froze the frame with his girlfriend.

The woman was around Amy size. Her hair color, length and style were exactly like Amy’s during high school through sophomore year in college. After she married Nolan, he had begged her to grow her hair out. The dutiful wife that she was at the time had obliged.

The more Amy watched the recording, the more she realized just how much the woman looked like her. Either Nolan had a thing for women with light-brown hair and bangs, or Eddie was right about his obsession with her.

The next footage she watched showed Nolan at a cemetery, carrying flowers to a grave. He knelt at the edge of the tombstone, placed the flowers and appeared to be praying. No, his eyes weren’t closed. He was talking. Then he