Fatally Bound by Roger Stelljes Page B

monitored areas.”
    Mac nodded, “He is smart.”
    “So what is our time window here?” Wire asked. “He takes the key from the car at 2:56 P.M. ”
    “To know our window, we need to know if our guy comes back. Run the tape.”
    The tech fast forwarded through the tape. “Stop it there,” Wire ordered. It had been fifty minutes.
    A man, not in a hooded sweatshirt, approached the Audi. He walked around the car, but then a woman appeared with him and it appeared they were simply looking at and discussing the car.
    “It is a car that will draw some attention,” Wire remarked.
    “More importantly, the color also makes it very easy to tail from a long way back,” Mac observed.
    The tech started the video again. There was little activity for another forty-five minutes until the hooded sweatshirt man returned, this time coming from the right. He quickly ducked down behind the driver’s side of the car. A few seconds later, he popped up and walked back to the right. The time in the upper right corner of the surveillance video said 5:03 P.M. The tech checked the next camera to the right. Again, they were able to track the man back to the white sedan, again parked far away from the mall, towards the far outer reaches of the parking lot. Other than a white sedan that looked like it may have been a Toyota, Honda or Hyundai, they could get no more.
    “He takes the key at 2:56 and he’s back at 5:03. So he left, got a key made, and was back basically within two hours,” Mac noted as he took out his phone.
    “What are you doing?” Wire asked.
    “Web search for hardware stores in the area. I doubt he had the tools to make a key in that car. If he did, he would have been back sooner.”
    “He went and got a key made.”
    “Yes, and where else do you get keys made quickly but hardware stores? My search comes up with seven possible, with three very nearby.” To Wente, Mac said, “We need pictures made of this guy. You can’t tell much about him but it might be enough to spark a memory, and we need some men to help us go around to these stores.”
    “I’m on it,” Wente said, cell phone out.
    In the late afternoon, Mac and Wire started their canvas of the three hardware stores closest to the mall. They struck out at the first two. Detective Wente corralled another detective to take the other four stores and they struck out at the first two as well. The third was J.J. Atlantic Hardware out on Forest Avenue. Mac and Wire walked up to the front desk to a woman holding a clipboard, “Can you point me to the store manager?” Mac asked.
    “That’s me, honey, Ginny White, what can I do for you?”
    Mac and Wire identified themselves.
    “Feds, huh? You sure don’t look like Feds.”
    “What do Feds look like usually?” Dara asked.
    “You know, dark suits, ties, sunglasses, self-important yet boring. You two have the sunglasses, sure, but you’re wearing jeans and dressed all casual. It’s like you’re too cool for school.”
    “Well, that’s because we are, plus, we’re special and helping on a specific investigation,” Mac answered, smiling. “So we don’t have to wear the federal uniform.”
    “Is it about that Donahue girl and that Reaper killer?”
    Mac nodded and then got down to business. “Ginny, tell me, do you know if you cut any keys between 3:00 P.M. and 5:00 P.M. a week ago Sunday?”
    “Well let’s go take a look,” the manager answered, waving them back to her cramped office in the back. She sat down at her computer and maneuvered her mouse around. “Take a seat,” she offered, which they both did. “You said between 3:00 and 5:00 P.M. ?”
    “That’s right,” Mac answered.
    “As I look through our sales, we cut nine keys that day and … we cut two between 3:00 and 5:00 P.M. ”
    “What were the times?” Mac asked.
    “One was rung up at 3:42 P.M. and the other was at 4:48 P.M. ”
    Mac looked to Wire, “Has to be the 3:42 one, right?”
    Dara nodded, looking to the security