Cara Putman

Deadly Exposure


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up and caught him watching her. Heat climbed her cheeks and she glanced away. When she looked again, he’d disappeared from the box.

      A moment later, a soft knock clicked against the doorframe.

      “Ready to talk?” Caleb stood in the doorway, concern filling his eyes.

      Dani bristled and glanced at Tricia and Aunt Jayne. “It’s about time. I don’t know anything that’ll help, so let’s get started.”

      He motioned for her to follow him to a bench across the foyer. He cocked his head and slipped a slim notebook from his inside jacket pocket. “Tell me what happened.”

      Dani told him about the rush to the theater. Finding the box. Trying to talk to the woman in the neighboring box at intermission. Walking into the box when she didn’t respond.

      “Why did you go in there?”

      Dani closed her eyes, images of how vibrant Renee Thomas had been during the interview filling her mind. “I interviewed her last week. And she seemed so different tonight. She was worried about something. Maybe fearful.”

      “Why fearful?”

      “Last week she couldn’t talk enough about her research project. She vibrated with life. Tonight, well, she looked everywhere but at me. If I remembered her, I know she remembered me. It isn’t every day that a grad student gets interviewed.”

      “Did you notice any changes between your first visit to her box and the second?”

      “The air was spicy the second time. Maybe from cologne or aftershave.” Dani paused a moment. Even though he might think her suspicious, she had to mention her concern now.

      “The only other strange thing was the usher.”

      Caleb looked up from his notes. “An usher?”

      “After I discovered the body, a man in a navy blazer kept me corralled next to the box. He insisted I stay in the foyer until you arrived. But others going into the box didn’t bother him.”

      “Do you know his name?”

      “No. He didn’t tell me and didn’t wear a name tag.”

      “Could you describe him?”

      Though she complied readily, Caleb searched her eyes as if she was concealing more about the case. She fought the urge to squirm under the intensity. Her gaze darted to his left hand. It was bare of a ring, not even a shadow of one. “Looks like you’re still single.”

      That ended the scrutiny. “What?”

      “Nothing.” Dani tightened her lips. How could she have said that? The last thing she wanted to do was relive the past.

      “Okay.” Caleb dragged the word out. “That’s all. Where can I reach you?”

      She slipped a card from her purse. “Channel 17. Otherwise, I’m at Aunt Jayne’s house.” Her cheeks flushed with the memory of their good-night kisses on the back step.

      “Is Logan meeting you here?”

      “Huh?” She startled, then stilled. “Yes. Why?”

      “Could you take Tricia with you? He can drop her off for me. Otherwise, she’ll be stranded here for a long time.”

      “Ever heard of cabs?” Dani bit her lip the moment the words escaped. “That’s not what I meant. If she doesn’t mind waiting, we can get her home.”

      “Thanks. Her house is on the way to the station.”

      Dani shrugged and rolled her eyes. She roused Aunt Jayne from her chair while Caleb told Tricia of the change in plans. In moments she led the others from the box. When she stepped outside, Logan’s wave hailed her from a line of trucks.

      “Hey, Logan. Hope you brought some coffee.”

      “Got a café mocha just for you. I’m sorry I didn’t bring a couple extras.” He’d tucked his polo into rumpled khakis, with a Channel 17 baseball cap covering his buzzed hair.

      “Aunt Jayne, this is Logan Collins, the best photographer in town. And I take it you already know Tricia.”

      “Nice to meet you, ma’am. Good to see you again, Tricia.”

      Aunt Jayne tilted her head toward Logan. “Is there somewhere I can sit?”

      The area around her aunt’s eyes was tightening, a reflection of the confusion that intruded. “Logan, I have to get her home as soon as I can. Can she rest in the Jeep until we’re done?”

      “Sure.” They quickly had Aunt Jayne tucked into the front passenger seat with Logan’s jacket tucked around her like a blanket. Tricia slipped in behind her and settled in for a chat. Dani heard the murmur of their voices as she focused on the Lied Center.

      “Thanks.” A smile touched her lips, and she sipped her coffee. “Grab that camera. We’ve got a lot to do before we call it a night.”

      Half an hour later, Dani watched people from the medical examiner’s office wheel a gurney out the front door of the theater. Hearing footsteps behind her, Dani turned to see Phil Baker, one of Channel 17’s evening anchors, walk up. “What are you doing here? The newscast ended a long time ago.”

      “I was on my way home. Just thought I’d swing by for a minute. See what happened.”

      Logan crossed his arms and scrutinized Phil. At his closed posture, Dani wondered what Phil had said in those few words to set Logan on edge.

      “Well, looks like you kids have it under control. See you tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and left them staring at his back. The gathered media followed his progress to his car as if controlled by one puppet master.

      “What on earth was that about?” Dani fumed. “Mr. High-and-Mighty thinks we can’t handle the story?”

      “The theater is not on his way home,” Logan said.

      THREE

      Investigator Caleb Jamison examined the scene at the plush box for any lingering threads of evidence the crime scene technicians missed. Soon the techs would cart the marked bags of evidence to headquarters for processing.

      He sighed in frustration. This murder had the marks of careful premeditation. Few clues were left behind. To have a great shot at clearing the case, he needed a suspect within the first twenty-four hours. With each successive hour, the chance of resolving the case plummeted.

      Caleb tucked his chin toward his chest and took a deep breath. Given a case of this visibility, the chief might assign a more experienced investigator in the morning. Any mistakes Caleb made would be blamed on his inexperience.

      “I think we’re done, Jamison. Here’s the lady’s purse.” Nate Winslow, one of the techs, held out the handbag for him to take. “You can take a quick look before we head to the lab.”

      Caleb put on a pair of gloves. He took the bag and ran his fingers over the outside of the purse before unzipping it. He looked inside and pulled the contents out one by one. “Nothing unusual. Two twenties, a tube of orange lipstick, credit card and ID.”

      He jotted down the information from her driver’s license in his notebook. Renee Thomas, Wainwright Drive, Lincoln.

      Caleb swept his fingers in the corners of the small handbag. Nothing lay hidden in its inner folds. After returning the contents to the purse, he handed it to the technician.

      “Let me know if anything turns up.”

      “Sure thing. See you back at the station.”

      He slid his notebook into his inside jacket pocket. Why would anyone risk killing someone in a very public place like this? The killer either felt very confident or acted in the passion of a moment.

      Whoever killed Ms. Thomas believed he wouldn’t be caught.

      Dani