Page 80 of Mark my Words

“Sorry. I don’t get many visitors, so I just have the one,” he told Emory, who was standing behind me.

“That’s fine. I think I’ll manage.” Emory’s face was a blank mask of indifference. He was intimidating when he wanted to be.

Howard started typing something into his laptop and then turned a computer monitor on his desk to face us. “So, what kind of time frame are we looking at?”

Emory glanced at his watch. “About half an hour ago. The main entrance near the valet stand. We need the name of a taxi company.”

“Male? female?” Howard inquired.

“Male, slim athletic build. Gray suit. Just over six feet. Fairly sure he was wearing glasses. Was probably freaking the fuck out.” Sometimes having a photographic memory came in handy.

“White, in his late twenties. Brown hair,” Emory chimed in over my shoulder.

“Okay. Let me pull up that segment, and we can go through in fast forward. Let me know when I need to stop, “ Howard instructed. The footage showed a split-screen of the main entrance and a direct view of the valet stand.

It began playing, and we watched people go in and out, dropping cars off. Taxis pulled up just past the valet podium.

“Stop!” Emory called out.

Howard slowed the feed and made it skip back about a minute. We watched Evan, visibly distressed—pulling on his hair—walk out the entrance and start pacing just to the side of the doors.

Moments later, Cuntzilla walked out the door and saw him pacing. The bitch smiled as she sidled up next to him and said something that made his entire body tense.

“Grr...” Howard looked over at me in surprise as I growled at the screen. I really did not like that woman.

“Calm down, killer.” Emory placed a hand on my shoulder. “Do the exterior cameras have audio?”

“Unfortunately, no,” the tech responded, shaking his head. “Not this set.”

I watched as the she-devil on the screen pressed up against him, running her hand down his front. He grimaced and pushed her off. Guess bleeding psychos with the start of double black eyes didn’t do it for him.

She started flailing her chicken arms around, and he looked at her in shock. He freaked out when she tried to touch him again, and a taxi pulled up simultaneously.

Evan looked toward the entrance, where Sam was barely visible coming into the frame inside the doors, back to the crazy bunny-boiler, and then turned and bolted for the cab.

“Shit.” I sighed. No wonder he ran. Psycho ex-girlfriend came at him when he was alone.

“Pause it,” Emory instructed as the exterior-facing camera caught the side of the cab at the curb. Howard paused the screen and zoomed in on the cab company logo and a strategically placed phone number.

“Got it.” Emory was already typing it into his phone. “Can you zoom in on the car tag number?”

The screen zoomed in and then pixelated. You could make out the first four characters of an identification number.

“Let me see what I can find out,” Emory told us before he stepped out into the hallway.

“Who is that lovely specimen?” Howard asked, pointing at the screen.

“Oh, you don’t want to go there. Black-eyed pea brain is a legit psycho.” Simone was seen yelling at the valet in the frozen frame.

“Not her. Him.” Howard pointed at the screenshot of the front entrance, where Sam was mid-stride with a fierce look on his face.

“Mine.” I arched an eyebrow, then immediately sobered as I realized what I said.

Shit.

“Damn, girl. Get it,” he chuckled, winking at me. Great. At least Sam wasn’t here to witness this. His ego would become even more inflated. And it wouldn’t make the situation between us any easier.

“Okay, so good news and bad news.” Emory returned to the office with a grimace, still looking at the phone in his hand.

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