Becoming Quinn by Brett Battles Page B

his first task was to narrow things down.
    Two of the lobby cameras acted as overviews, covering large portions of the space. What one didn’t see, the other did. Deciding to concentrate on those first, Jake brought up one of the feeds, and began whipping through it as fast as he could manage and still make out what was going on.
    The biggest problem was he didn’t know who he was looking for. Had the person who’d dropped the matchbook been a guest? Someone just passing through the lobby? Someone who worked there? Man? Woman? Old? Young?
    He hadn’t been at it long before he realized how ridiculous this was. What the hell did he actually expect to see? The murderer walking through the frame wearing a T-shirt that said I DID IT?
    Unfortunately, he couldn’t just get up and walk out. That would raise more questions than his request to view the footage had. Enough, most likely, to provoke Evans or Conway to call the department and ask what was up.
    Jake definitely didn’t need that.
    Having no choice, he focused on the screen.
    It took nearly an hour to get through one day of one camera. Not surprisingly, no one stood out to him. He increased the pace, and got through the second twenty-four hours in only thirty-two minutes.
    He decided to skip the other lobby camera and move to the one covering the front entrance. In and out, in and out. People coming and going and returning and leaving again. On the screen the day grew later, then night descended, but the flow of people never stopped. In and out, in and out, in and—
    Jake tapped Pause, then leaned over the desk, bringing him a few inches closer to the monitor on the wall.
    “See something?” Parker asked.
    Jake stared at the image. Two men had just come outside. A doorman—not the one who’d let Jake in earlier—was holding the door open for them. They were both dressed casually, dark pants and dark shirts. One was even wearing a dark gray sports coat. They didn’t look like they were together, but there was something Jake couldn’t quite put his finger on.
    The camera had captured a good shot of both men’s faces. Neither was remarkable. If he’d met either of them before, that might explain the feeling he was having, but he couldn’t place their faces, which meant this was the first time he had ever seen them. His memory was exceptional. He’d never forgotten a face before, and was sure he wasn’t forgetting one now.
    So why did I stop?
    “Hey, you all right?” Parker asked.
    Jake pulled his eyes off the screen. “What?” he asked, confused.
    “You were studying that pretty hard. I was just wondering if you’d seen something interesting.”
    Jake quickly donned his neutral cop look. “Not sure. Maybe. Is there a way to print out images?”
    “Sure,” Parker said. “We have a mavigraph. Gives you a nice glossy print. We’re not supposed to use it too often because it’s expensive, but I’m sure Mr. Evans wouldn’t mind.”
    “Excellent.” Jake nodded at the screen. “Can I get a print of that?”
    “You got it.”
    Parker fiddled with a computer keyboard, then a few moments later a machine in the corner behind them began to hum.
    “It takes a little while to print,” Parker said. “But it’s got the image now, so you can continue looking if you want.”
    Jake nodded, then hit Play and watched the men walk out of frame. He stopped the footage, reversed it to just as they were coming out the door, and noted the time stamp. He then switched over to the feed from a lobby camera right on the other side of the entrance. Using the time code as reference, he went to the corresponding point.
    On the screen he could see the backs of the men as they were passing through the door. He began scrolling the footage backwards. As he noted from the other angle, though the men were leaving at the same time, they didn’t seem to be together. He followed them to the extent of the camera’s range, then found the next camera they were on, then the next.