Page 354 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Addie found the manager and explained what they needed while the guy glanced between her and Hummet. As if the cop needed to provide authorization for her request. Sure, thiswasn’t her investigation. She was the victim. But did he think that would hinder her from finding out who did this?

“Just show us where the office is,” she said. “I’m sure we can find our way around your computer ourselves.”

He squinted at her.

Guess not.But it got him to snap to and take them there himself.

The manager settled in a rolling office chair. They got a great view of the bald spot on the top of his head. “Let’s see…” He clicked the mouse and scrolled the wheel, moving the feed on the monitor like rewinding an old VHS tape.

Addie stared at the car. “Too far away to make out the plate.”

She wasn’t even sure there was one on the front bumper. Glare meant she hadn’t seen it—momentarily blinded by the headlights and her trauma.

Hummet hissed out a breath.

Addie didn’t look at herself falling. She waited for a second and watched the part where Jake raced to her.

“Friend of yours?”

“Old acquaintance.”

One she wasn’t sure she wanted to see again. Being in Benson was about work, not reviving a relationship murdered by Ivan Damen—and Addie’s mom. Whatever they’d had, it was gone. Had been for a long time.

She couldn’t believe she was thinking about pursuing it. After fifteen years, the likelihood of something happening between them was as probable as a resurrection. Addie certainly didn’t have that kind of power.

The manager turned, interest on his face.

Addie wondered why he thought she might tell a juicy story. “I should head out.” She turned to Hummet. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

As soon as they cleared the store—after Hummet detoured her for pain killers—he glanced over. “Any reason that driver made a beeline for you that you can think of?”

Addie worked her mouth back and forth. “Write it up as an accident. There’s no reason to believe it’s connected to something else.”

His jaw flexed as they walked.

“You want me to read you in if it is?” Some cops wanted to stick through the aftermath of a callout. “I just figure you have enough to do without wading in.”

“And if I’m interested in federal work experience?” Hummet adjusted his belt. “A way to see what life is like…across the hall.”

Addie reached her car. She turned and folded her arms. Assessed the officer. It was tempting to think of him as a kid, but he was a professional. A colleague. “Give me your card.”

He pulled one out and handed it over.

“Now I know one cop in Benson.” Addie lifted the card. “I need someone, guess who’s name I’ll mention when I’m talking to your chief?”

Hummet’s smile broadened. “I appreciate that.”

Addie nodded. “Have a good night.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jacob was early, and he knew why. He just wasn’t prepared to think on it too much. He entered the code for the warehouse door and disarmed the alarm.

Inside was an open space, his photo studio. The shooting area at the end had a light bar hung above, various spotlights and strobes hung from it. White on the floor, white on the walls. Four lights on tripods with umbrella reflectors.

A refreshments bar stretched the length of the left wall between his office and the changing rooms—bathroom at the end.

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