“Based on what we know so far, no medication, no treatments, no psychological issues,” Kozak said. “We know she had a tragic past. She was the lone survivor after her parents died in a house fire. She was eight at the time.”
“Eight?” LeBrie said. “The same age as her son is now. Interesting.”
“Maybe she staged this?” Freely said. “Wanted to leave her husband, make this her last goodbye?”
“I don’t think she’d leave her son,” LeBrie said.
“Been known to happen,” Freely said.
The moment that followed was punctuated by Becker.
“Before we close this, I want to say thanks for the help. You’re all good at what you do, but indulge me because this needs to be said. Don’t get tunnel vision. These cases are not like TV and the movies. You all know how theories, threads, and leads explode in all directions, like a starburst webbing everywhere. Our job is to follow the evidence to the truth.”
Freely looked at Becker; they were old friends.
“Did you practice that in the mirror this morning, Phil?”
Soft chuckles went around the table.
“All right, all right,” Becker said.
Over the next few minutes, assignments were distributed, tablets, phones, notebooks, and jackets were collected as the meeting broke up. Becker, Kozak, and Carillo were alone in the room when Becker’s phone rang and he answered.
“Phil, this is Les McCarren, regional security with Korner Fast Corp. How ya doing?”
“Hey, Les.”
“Look, legal cleared things on the video from our store in Ripplewood Creek.”
“Good.”
“I think your investigators are going to want to see what we’ve got.”
Twenty-Six
Clarence, New York
Jenn walks into the Korner Fast store, passes the newspaper rack, the bread shelves, the snack cakes, the chip displays. She goes to the dairy case at the back. She searches without opening a door then goes to the counter, walking past another customer. Jenn’s wearing a mauve turtleneck and blazer looking calm, casual, talking to the clerk before leaving, returning to the night. A few moments later, another customer enters the store.
Kozak, Carillo, and Lieutenant Becker were at Clarence Barracks studying the store security video on the large screen in the meeting room.
Les McCarren sent it to them and had also arranged for Trevor Bara, the clerk who was on duty at the time, to go the barracks. Bara was waiting in a separate room while the investigators examined the footage.
Discovering Jenn had been in the store was a break in the case, establishing the last time she was seen. They replayed the video, watching the jerky, choppy images that appear to make people pause as they move. Kozak made notes. The image quality was strong, crisp, and in color. It was clear this was Jennifer Griffin. The time of the recording was 10:46 p.m., making it a key puzzle piece, fitting with the timeline.
“So this narrows it a little,” Kozak said. “Whatever transpired, happened between the store and Blueripple Woods.”
“What, how, and who?” Carillo said. “She enters and leaves the store without incident.”
“It comes back to her being stopped somewhere along that stretch of Ripple Valley Boulevard,” Kozak said.
“Or anywhere in the area. Let’s run the criminal history—” Becker glanced at his notes “—for unsolved sexual assaults, stalking, burglaries, the history of everything along the boulevard and the surrounding neighborhoods. Other thoughts?”
Carillo scratched his chin, then said: “Try this. She’s on her way home but she knows her husband’s asleep, right?”
“Right,” Kozak said.
“So she stops off to see a friend, you know, she’s having an affair. An hour or two. Greg won’t know. Then something goes wrong and her lover gets rid of her and ditches her car?”
Kozak and Becker digested the theory.
“We need names and addresses of everyone in her circles,” Becker said. “Then cross-check them to who lives in Ripplewood. We talk to people, alibi them.”
“We’ll need help with that, Phil,” Kozak said.
“Leave it with me,” Becker said. “Now, it’s time for you to talk to the clerk.”
* * *
Kozak and Carillo brought Trevor Bara into the large meeting room.
It was just the three of them there.
They began by collecting Bara’s basic information. He was twenty-five, had worked at the Korner Fast store in Ripplewood for two years. He was planning to go to college to be a chef. The investigators then went through the drill, asking if he had a record. Kozak and Carillo would run Bara’s name before he left, but it helped establish credibility if a witness was truthful from the get-go.
“No, I don’t have a record,” Bara said.
Before coming to Jenn, they moved on to what Bara did that night.
“My shift ended at midnight. Dallas Peller relieved me.”
“What did you do after that?”
“Rode my motorcycle home to Cardinal Hill, watched an old movie with my girlfriend, then went to bed.”
“What movie?” Carillo asked.
“Bullitt.”
“We’re going to play the security video for you, so we can walk each other through it,” Carillo said.
Kozak played the video on the big screen.
“Do you remember this woman?”
“I do. She’s been on the news.”
“Why didn’t you come forward to say she was in your store?” Carillo asked.
Bara’s face flushed and he shrugged. “I think I sent an email to your tip line.”
“You think?”
“Guess I figured you guys would’ve known.”
Carillo and Kozak let it go and moved on.
“What was she looking for? What did she ask you?” Kozak said.
“Yogurt, a certain brand in blueberry. We were out of it.”
Kozak was making notes.
“What was her demeanor? Was she nervous, scared, happy?”
Staring at the video, Bara stuck out his bottom lip.
“She was cool. Not scared or nervous. Pleasant.”
Kozak made notes.
“So, she purchased nothing.”