“This is Larry Delmos,” Collins said. “Larry’s the assistant security manager and he pretty much runs the surveillance camera system for us.”
“It doesn’t have to be a polished Hollywood production,” Kendra said as she walked over to his laptop.
Delmos flashed a toothy grin. “Too late. I stitched the feeds together into chronological order. I thought it would be more helpful to you that way.”
He spun the laptop around for them to see. The first image showed a man walking through the parking lot. “Here he is approaching the entrance.”
“Did you get the car?” Lynch asked.
“Afraid not. He either came to the center on foot or parked next door to stay out of range of our parking-lot cameras. But here, look. He walked in through the front doors and goes immediately back toward the hardware section.”
Kendra watched as the various angles showed Waldridge’s journey past a soda display, stacks of Rubbermaid storage containers, and finally to the hardware aisles, where he spent a few moments looking over the shelves. He fumbled as he picked up a red-and-white bottle.”
“Is that Iron-Out?” Kendra asked.
The manager squinted at the screen. “Yes.”
They watched as he made his way through the store, picking up the cleaning supplies, and finally to the pharmaceuticals, where he picked up a large brown bottle that had to be the hydrogen peroxide. He then took his purchases to the checkout stand, where they saw the same footage they had watched at the FBI field office. After that he exited the store and a parking-lot camera captured him walking out of camera range with his purchases.
“Scan back,” Kendra said. “Take us back to where he first entered the store.”
The video clips sped back to Waldridge’s entrance. Just as he was about to leave the frame, Kendra pointed, and called out, “Stop!”
The image froze and she pointed to the doors, where a man in a long jacket and a baseball cap had entered. “See?”
Lynch nodded. “Yes, but he doesn’t seem to be with Waldridge.”
“Just wait,” she murmured.
As they watched the other shots of Waldridge in the store, the other man followed from a distance, stopping and appearing to look at items every time Waldridge paused.
“Waldridge was being followed,” Metcalf said.
“It’s more than that,” Kendra said. “They make brief eye contact several times. Watch.”
Waldridge appeared to glance at the man as he picked up the hydrogen peroxide bottle.
“You’re right,” Lynch said. “They were together. And notice how this guy uses his hat to keep his face from the camera.
“He doesn’t want to be seen, yet he needs to be there,” Kendra said.
“He could be keeping a leash on Waldridge,” Metcalf said. “Maybe making sure he doesn’t talk to anyone.”
Kendra watched for another moment. “Scan back to the hardware aisle. I want to see something.”
Delmos scanned back to the hardware section, where Waldridge fumbled as he picked up the Iron-Out.
“That moment there,” she said. “See how his hand hesitated and makes a couple grabs at that bottle? He’s usually very precise with his movements. He’s a surgeon. This is unusual for him.”
“He could have just been nervous,” Metcalf said.
“Maybe.” Kendra stepped closer to the monitor before turning to face the manager. “Take me there.”
“Sure. This way.”
They followed the manager out of the office and back onto the sales floor, where they made their way to the aisle they had just viewed on the video. The manager stopped and pointed to the bottles of Iron-Out. “Here’s where he was standing. The camera was inside that dome on the ceiling, and the other guy you were looking at was standing about three aisles to the right.”
Kendra glanced around to get her bearings. “Thank you. Waldridge was here, and he reached toward this shelf…”
The red-and-white bottles were displayed two across and a half a dozen deep. Kendra moved aside the first two bottles and peered into the back of the shelf. She squinted, trying to see deeper. There was a small glittering object back there… She reached in and pulled out a small silver charm.
“What is it?” Lynch asked.
She stared at it a long moment before showing the others. “A dolphin.”
“Is that supposed to have some special significance?” Metcalf asked.
“It belongs to Waldridge. He’s been carrying it ever since I’ve known him.”
She turned it gently over in her fingers. Message received, Charles.
“So… He put it here for you to find? Kind of a leap, isn’t it?” Metcalf asked.
She shook her head. “No. He’s always had faith in me, even when it seemed no one else did.” She spoke softly as she continued to stare at the charm, “Never surrender… Never give up…”
“What?” Lynch asked.
“He knew I’d see this. He knew I’d track him here, even if no one else did. This charm is a symbol of perseverance… of never giving up. It’s what he had to remind himself for his entire career. And now…”
“… now it’s his message to you,” Lynch finished for her.
She closed her hand around the charm. “Yes. He knew I’d be on his trail. He’s telling me not to give up.”
KENDRA WAS STILL HOLDING the charm as she, Lynch, and Metcalf walked out into the parking lot. She looked down at it in her hand. Its once-shiny surface was now dull, and the sharp features had been worn down by the years. But its meaning had never been more vivid, more startlingly clear.
Metcalf awkwardly produced a Ziploc evidence bag from his inside jacket pocket. “Uh, I should probably take that as evidence.”
Kendra nodded. “Sure.”
Metcalf opened the bag. She looked at the charm for a moment longer before dropping it inside.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll take good care of it.”
“You’d better. Waldridge will want that back.”
“Do you have a copy of all the security video?” Lynch asked.
Metcalf patted his pocket. “Right here. The whole thing is on one USB drive.”
“I’d like a copy of that,” Lynch said.
“Sure. After I get back to the office, I’ll-”
“I mean right now.” Lynch pulled out his phone and plugged a small adapter into the jack on its underside. “If you don’t mind.”
Metcalf shrugged and fished the thumb drive from his pocket. Lynch inserted it into his adapter and opened an app to upload the drive’s contents to his phone.
“This will be just a couple of minutes.”
Kendra looked around. “Maybe we can get some traffic-cam footage from that night. If we can track a vehicle going from the hotel to here at this exact time-”
“Griffin is on it,” Metcalf said. “They probably hit a dozen cameras between there and here. There’s a good chance that-”
Metcalf’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “Speak of the devil.”
Metcalf answered, and after a terse few words, he cut the connection.
“Quick call,” Kendra said.
He nodded. “Griffin wants us all to get back to the office.”
“Why?” Lynch asked. “What has he heard?”
Metcalf snapped his fingers impatiently. “Can I have the flash drive back?”
“Another fourteen seconds. What has Griffin heard?”
Metcalf looked between Lynch and Kendra, then shrugged. “We have an ID on the Big Bear murder victim you found last night.”
“Who was he?” Kendra asked.
“His name was Porter Shaw. From London.” Metcalf glanced at Lynch. “Facial-recognition software matched your photo reconstruction with his passport picture.”
“Score one for Ashley,” Kendra said.
“Who was he?” Lynch asked.
“They’re building a file on him right now. We should know more by the time we get back.” He looked at Kendra. “Does his name mean anything at all to you?”