something.
Despite still wearing her pajamas, she didn’t look like she felt the chill of the night. At a certain point where the clarity of the footage was sharpest, we could see the steam of her breathing. She was coming from the direction of her house, and seemed undecided of where to head next.
Then, a bright light filled the screen like an explosion, swallowing Fiona's frame. It looked like a car had made a U turn and settled somewhere outside the frame, its headlights still obscuring part of the video frame.
From then on we lost sight of Fiona, who had gotten caught in the headlights from the stationary car.
I glanced around, blinking away the stinging sensation in my eyes, but couldn’t see anything. The light of the screen had blinded me against the darkness in the room.
Someone cleared their throat to my right, making me feel strangely uneasy. We were watching, after all, the last moments before Fiona's disappearance. Possibly the last minutes of her life.
After a few minutes of blindness, our eyes got used to the uncomfortable brightness of the headlights. I started to distinguish some movement towards the edge of the pool of light.
“They’re taking her!” I exclaimed, feeling adrenaline rushing through my veins. I was watching her getting kidnapped, yet I couldn’t do anything to help her. My assumption had been right, but what good did that do her?
The dread of having no real information enveloped me again and I couldn't help but wonder how could I possibly untangle this mess.
A murmur of agitation went through the team, as we were left staring into the light. We got so absorbed in the expectation of what we knew was going to happen that we barely noticed when the car left, leaving a deeper darkness behind.
Someone switched the light on, and I shielded my eyes like a vampire.
“So, what now?” asked DeMarco.
“First and foremost, this is proof that Fiona Petersen has not simply wandered off. It needs to be taken to the police ASAP. They can start processing the footage. We should do the same, just to make sure,” I decided.
He nodded, grabbing the disk Robert was already handing him.
Without waiting for any more instructions from me, Robert started typing, delving deep into his own forensic analysis of the footage.
I raised my eyes to the wall clock, catching a glimpse of Spike, her face the picture of concern.
“It’ll be alright,” I offered, stopping a few feet away from her. She startled.
“I’m sorry.”
Of all the things Spiked surprised me with, this was the most unexpected. Upon a closer look, she seemed more tense than scared, more inwardly focused, as if she was worrying for herself. I frowned just as she turned abruptly to face me.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“I still wonder why she suddenly needs to announce to me every time she goes to the loo,” I thought again.
It wasn’t like she was asking permission. Her issues seemed to trouble her more and more, with every day that passed. She was taking this particular case to heart for reasons I couldn't figure out on my own.
Smith took Spike’s place at my right, his hands behind his back, looking thoughtful.
“What do you think?” he asked, more rhetorically than factually.
I shook my head, unsure if whether I had anything to say in light of this new finding. On one hand, it confirmed my suspicions, but my suspicions were not the sort I wanted confirmed. If they police was indeed keeping secrets, it only meant bad things. It only meant Fiona's now confirmed kidnapping was a small part in a much bigger criminal scheme. I needed to do something in that regard, I needed to get the police to talk. But how?
“Let Robert go through the footage frame by frame. If there’s something to find there, he’ll find it.”
I couldn’t disagree. Mainly because I had no other suggestion to make.
We stood side by side, facing the larger window of the two. I was lost in thought, trying to remember the smallest
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