Reed popped in the video. "This is the footage of the fire we saw last night." In silence they watched the fire scene, watched themselves. Reed swallowed the wince when the camera caught him fumbling with his boots and Mia taking over the task.
"I'm sorry about that," she murmured and he remembered the look in her eyes when he'd rebuked her. Remote, as if she'd pulled back from a slap. But you're stuck with me. The words were telling in light of what she'd just divulged. What a shock it must have been to find her father had a second family. He searched for something to say.
"Mia, about what happened in Spinnelli's office…"
Her eyes never left the small screen, her jaw going taut. "Thanks for trying to cover for me. You won't have to do it again."
"I didn't mean that. That woman. Your…" He faltered. "It must have been a shock."
Her eyes narrowed at the video as a young woman with a braid came into the picture, briefly. "There's Carmichael, skulking around."
She'd shut the door on the subject. "She kept to the background," he said.
"I should have seen her."
"Maybe. You'll be looking for her next time."
She shot him a guarded glance. "Carmichael, yes."
He held her eyes for a moment before she looked away, back to the screen where the scene had changed. Wheaton stood at the curb, fluffing out her hair and checking her makeup. "Jared's brother Duane was standing pretty far back," he said.
"It's going to make it hard to get anything unless he ventures closer."
"It's still quarter to six according to the time stamp. The woman's not here yet." He pulled Mitchell's chair around their desks. "Sit down. This could take a while." The picture focused on Wheaton, before finally zooming out. Reed sat up straight, suddenly alert. "She's there." The blue Hyundai was parked off to the side and the woman was standing at her car door, staring up at the house, just as she had on Action News's video.
Mitchell had leaned forward, squinting. "Can we get a make on the plate?"
"Maybe your computer enhancement guys can," Reed said doubtfully. "Duane's still too far away for me to see anything and the angle's bad."
Then as if heeding their wish, the camera crept a little closer, taking a trip along the outer boundary of cars and onlookers. Reed held his breath. "Just a little farther."
"Holly's on," Mitchell said. "Her people are paying attention to her. Duane's getting a little braver. Come on, boy. Move your ass closer." Duane did, the video inching closer to the car. Finally it stopped, the plate still too small to read, but in full view.
"Closer, boy," she murmured, but the camera hovered in place for a few seconds, then abruptly moved back to Wheaton's camera crew who were dismantling equipment. Then there was static as the video stopped.
"I think that's the best we're going to get," Reed said. "Let's take this to the computer guys. Maybe we'll get lucky."
Mitchell pushed her chair back. "The computer guys are on the fifth floor. You take them the video. I'll change and meet you. Don't have any fun until I get there."
He watched as she jogged from the bullpen. She'd closed herself off, just as she had when he'd touched her face. He should let it go. But he wasn't sure he could.
Wednesday, November 29, 1:05 p.m.
Mia stared out the window of the SUV as Solliday slowly drove past the teacher's parking lot. "There it is. One blue Hyundai, registered to Brooke Adler, English teacher."
"Your computer guys did a good job blowing up that video frame."
"Technology is a beautiful thing," she agreed as he pulled into a visitor's space. "Adler's got a clean sheet. She doesn't seem like a likely arson suspect."
"Agreed. But she knows something. Or thinks she does."
"Agreed. If she'd set the fire, I think she'd look satisfied, but she just looked guilty."
"The fact that she works with delinquent kids is as good a tie as any so far."
"Our arsonist isn't a novice. You said so yourself. Could he really be a kid?"
"I said his fire-setting methods were sophisticated. I don't think he's a little kid. A teenager would certainly fit the profile." He angled his head. "What's wrong, Mia?"
She met his eyes, troubled. "Penny Hill was burned alive. On purpose."
"And part of you doesn't want to believe a kid is capable of that," he said quietly. "While the other part knows better."
She nodded, the truth of it a bitter taste in her mouth. "That about sums it up."
He lifted a shoulder, sympathetic. "We could be wrong."
"I hope not. It's the first real lead we've gotten." She slid to the ground. "Let's go."
She walked through the school door he held open, thinking she could get used to somebody like Reed Solliday. Doors, chairs, coffee. She was getting spoiled.
A woman sat behind the glass. Her badge said she was Marcy. "Can I help you?"
"I'm Detective Mitchell and this is Lieutenant Solliday. We've already provided ID to your security guard at the gate. We'd like to speak with Miss Adler, please."
"I'm afraid she's in class right now. May I take a message?"
Mia smiled obligingly. "You may not. You may tell her to come talk to us right now."
A man appeared to their left. "I'm Dr. Bixby, director of Hope Center. Can I help?"
Mia distrusted him at first sight. "Only to assist us in speaking to Miss Adler. Now."
"Marcy, arrange for coverage in Miss Adler's room. Come with me." He led them to a small room, spartanly furnished. "You can wait here. It will be more private than the lobby. As her employer, I have to ask. Is Miss Adler in some kind of trouble?"
Mia kept smiling. "We just want to talk to her."
Uncertainly the man closed the door, leaving them alone with an old desk and two worn chairs. The single window was covered with black bars. It was what it appeared to be- a prison for bad kids. "I always wonder if they've got places like this bugged."
"Then let's ask her to step outside," Solliday said simply and Mia looked up at him.
"No 'Don't be so paranoid, Mitchell'?" she asked.
"Does Abe say that?"
"No, never. He just flips a coin to choose lunch. Heads is good. Tails is vegetarian."
He paced the length of the small room and once again she was taken with the fluid grace with which he moved. A man his size should look cramped and out of place in a room this small. Instead, he moved like a cat, balancing on the balls of his feet. Graceful, but… restless. "I take it you're not taken with vegetarian fare," he murmured.
"No. We were a meat and potatoes family."
He'd stopped at the window and now stood looking between the bars, his expression pensive. "So were we, after."
His mood had altered dramatically in the minutes they'd been here. "After what?"
He threw a look over his shoulder. "After I went to live with the Sollidays."
The look was a guarded one that warned her to proceed cautiously. "They adopted you out of the foster care system?"
He nodded, turning back to the window. "I'd been in four homes before they took me in. I'd run away from the last two. I was too close to being sent to a place like this."
"Then we owe the Sollidays a great deal," she said softly and watched him swallow.
"Yes, we do." He turned and sat on the arm of one of the chairs. "I do."
"Sometimes there's a fine line between going good and going bad. One good experience, one kind soul can make all the difference in the world."
One side of his mouth lifted. "I still think good people deal and bad people don't."
"Way too simple. But we'll save that debate for another day. Somebody's coming."
The door opened and Mia found herself looking at the woman from the video. She was very young. "Miss Adler?" she asked and the woman nodded, eyes wide. Scared.