But the cameras would be quicker. Could she hack in there and take a look?

  While Connor was pacing through the apartment, searching for any further clues or evidence in Brooke's living space, Cami decided she would try.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  There was no way the killer could have accessed this apartment block without passing through the lobby. Cami had seen that when she was downstairs.

  And if he had passed through, he would have been under the eye of the cameras. They were angled to cover the lobby effectively. That, too, she'd seen.

  Now, how to take a peek at who he was, based on this information?

  The security cameras used by this apartment block were a brand called Nuwave. And Cami knew that Nuwave had a design flaw. The user ID was not as secure as it should be. It was accessible if you injected a line of code into the command center. In fact, you could take over the camera that way and actually lock the original user out.

  "It's fun to do and impossible to prevent unless you download the camera update," she remembered one of her MIT classmates saying. "And very few people download the update. I mean, who does that?"

  Cami didn't want to take control of the camera permanently. But she did want to try and prove her worth to Connor by saving him some time. Bending her head down to her phone, she worked, while vaguely aware of the cops conversing in the next room.

  "No sign of any disturbance beyond the lobby?" she heard Connor asking the other cop.

  "No. Nothing. He didn't come any further in than the laptop on the desk there, to type the message that's his signature."

  "No robbery?"

  "Nothing taken that we can see so far. This was a quick kill. In and out, no other reason, seemingly."

  "No fingerprints on the keyboard?"

  "There were none at the last scene. Only the victim's prints. Same for the door handle. We are going to go through the scene with a fine-tooth comb, but I think this guy is careful and he's worn gloves."

  "It seems like the MO doesn't fit with the victim," Connor observed.

  "Honestly, to me, the MO looks more like a hit than anything else," the cop said, sounding perplexed and worried. "That's exactly what it seems like. It might not be a professional hit, but for sure, this guy was well prepared."

  "What was the cause of death?" Connor asked, and Cami's gaze slid uneasily to that dark stain on the carpet near the far door. That was where she'd died. The body had been moved but the evidence remained. Breathing in, she thought she could smell the tang of blood, a heavy, metallic hint in the air.

  "She was stabbed three times in the back. Left side. Long, sharp blade according to the coroner. He was aiming for the heart and clearly got it," the cop said.

  "Any sign of the weapon?"

  "Nope. He must have brought it with him and taken it away. That would be similar to the last scene. No sign of it there, either. He's not using what's available in the home. There's no time for that."

  "What is this guy looking to prove?" Connor muttered, sounding frustrated.

  Cami was in. She'd gotten past the basic firewall, and she'd accessed the code. And sure enough, they hadn't updated it. Because nobody ever did. Why would you bother updating a patch on a security camera when it was faithfully doing its basic daily function of recording footage?

  Nobody thought that a camera could or would be hacked. Nobody worried about what the implications could be.

  Here was the footage. She'd found the archives. Cami scrolled back from the present time, moving through the history. She saw cops first. Cops flooding the footage. Cops were most recently on the scene.

  Going back further, she saw a middle-aged woman walking out, holding her purse, presumably on her way to work and with no idea that a serious crime had just played out in her own apartment building.

  Another woman left, holding the hand of a young child. As the clock ticked back toward eight a.m., a man in a courier’s uniform came in, and for a moment, she wondered if he could be the killer, but then saw him greet the doorman, shaking his hand as if they knew each other.

  And then, there he was. Cami caught her breath as she saw him.

  Dressed in dark clothing and wearing a baseball cap, bulky jacket, and had a scarf bundled around his face. He kept his head down, walking fast and purposefully. There was nobody at the front desk. He pressed the buzzer for one of the apartments and spoke briefly into the intercom.

  Then the security gate clanged open, and he strode up the stairs.

  She kept watching, her heart in her throat, but he turned before the building's furthermost camera could get a clear shot of his face. The angle wasn't right. It was as if he knew that he was being watched and having found the blind spot, he'd positioned himself to walk through it.

  But she'd seen enough.

  Under his scarf and cap, she thought the killer was tall, built like an athlete, with broad shoulders. He walked with purpose, showing no hesitation or fear.

  Cami felt short of breath watching this. There was something about his ferocious intent that chilled her blood. This creep was an obsessed killer. He had to be.

  But why had that gate opened up for him, allowing him to stride so confidently through it?

  He surely couldn't have rung Brooke's bell?

  Nope, the timing would not have allowed for that. If he'd rung her bell with a plausible excuse, she would have opened the door for him. He wouldn't have had to force his way in, and she wouldn't have had time or opportunity to dial 911. She would have come face to face with him, and he could have killed her instantly.

  But he hadn't done that, probably because she would have asked who he was and refused him entry. So, he must have chosen someone else. Who would that have been, and how did he know that this person would open up? Because it seemed like he had known.

  She rewound the video and zoomed in again.

  If she looked carefully, could she see his hand move? He'd kept his face away from the camera but not his hand.

  In slow motion, Cami looked again as Connor and the other cop returned from the other room.

  "Nothing to be found," Connor was saying, sounding frustrated. "Now we have to figure out how he got in. How he got past the lobby."

  "Seems that he chose the time when the doorman was called away to open the garage door downstairs. So he must have been watching the building," the cop said. "But still, to get past that security door, someone must have opened up for him and buzzed him in."

  "He wouldn't have rung her bell. If he had, she wouldn't have had time to dial 911," Connor said, echoing Cami's thoughts.

  "That's going to be a big job, since there are thirty-five apartments in this complex," the cop said.

  "We'll start with the ones at the front and try to work our way through. Still, by the time we've done that, we might be trying to figure out where this guy is now rather than where he came from."

  Cami hit “Pause” and turned to look at him. "What if I could find that out for you? Would it save you time?"

  "It would depend how much time it would take you," Connor said, sounding grumpy and unappreciative of her efforts. "We have a lot to do. We can't waste hours trying to get this information. Sometimes, feet on the ground is quicker."

  "I've got it here," she said, feeling a momentary satisfied pleasure at the shock on his face. "To me, it looks like he rang the bell for number three. Take a look and tell me what you think."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Five minutes later, Cami was standing half a step behind Connor as he knocked on the door of apartment number three. She felt pleased to have figured this out. Not only did they now have—at least—an idea of the killer's height and build, but they also knew how he'd gotten in, and that might just take them further.

  At any rate, she felt hopeful as she heard footsteps approach.

  “Who’s there?” a woman’s nervous voice asked.

  “FBI,” Connor called out. He held his badge up to the peephole in the door.

  A stressed-looking woman in her mid-thirties opened the door, holding her young son's hand. Her face looked pale and make-up free, and her hair was tied back in a rough ponytail. But she was wearing a beautifully embroidered top, her nails were neatly done, and the apartment behind her looked well decorated, with wall tapestries, beadwork ornaments, and colorful hand-knotted rugs.

  Her gaze rested upon Connor and then slid curiously to Cami. She looked fearful. Her expression was wary.

  "FBI Special Agent Connor," Connor introduced himself briefly. "Ma'am, we need to talk to you.” He glanced at her son.

  “Go to your room,” she said, turning the boy around and giving him a pat on the back.

  Connor waited until he was out of sight before continuing.

  “I don't know if you're aware there has been a murder upstairs?"

  The woman put a hand to her neck as if that knowledge hurt her.

  "I heard earlier," she said in a shaking voice. "The doorman said someone had been killed. He got hold of me and said I should probably keep the children away from downstairs for a while. But I didn't realize it was someone who lived here! Who was it?"

  "Brooke Perkins," Connor said.

  Hissing in a shocked breath, she clapped a hand over her mouth.

  "No!" she said.

  But Cami was surprised that she didn't look as genuinely sad as she'd expected. Shocked, yes. But she didn't look gutted with grief, the way that she'd assumed she might on hearing of a neighbor’s death.

  Thinking back to the comments she'd read online, Cami was starting to wonder if Brooke had been a difficult person. Someone who wasn't well liked. And perhaps, therein, might lie a clue to her death, she thought.

  Connor was plowing forward to the main reason for their arrival on her doorstep. Cami didn't know if he'd picked up what she had.

  "Your name, ma'am?" he asked.

  "I'm Marlene Somers."

  "Did you know the victim well?"

  "No. I hardly knew her at all. We must have spoken a couple of times at most, I think."

  "And how long have you been here?"

  "Two years. She was already here when I moved in."

  Cami guessed he was asking these easy questions to steady Marlene up. Because, without a doubt, she had a shock waiting when he told her how the killer had gotten in.

  She saw him take a breath and knew it was time. This question was coming. And she knew it would be utterly devastating to this woman, who would probably feel that the crime had been her fault.

  "Ms. Somers, this morning, did you let anyone into the building?"

  "I—well, yes. I make crafts and homemade items. Jewelry, clothing, home décor. And there are always couriers and delivery people coming in and out to collect." She frowned. "But this morning, I do recall, the buzzer rang, and a courier didn't arrive. He came in about ten minutes later."

  "So you let someone in, but they never arrived at your door?"

  It was clear that Marlene was putting two and two together. She stared in horror at Connor.

  "Was that him? Did I let the killer in?"

  Connor shrugged. "We're still working on the timeline. But if you had someone ring your bell who never arrived at your front door, it's likely."

  Marlene was now blinking tears away. She looked sheet white. "If I did that, I'll never forgive myself. That's just the biggest catastrophe I've ever heard of. I caused her to be killed?"

  Connor shook his head. "Ma'am, without a doubt, Brooke was deliberately targeted. Why, we don't know. This was a carefully researched crime, and if ringing your buzzer hadn't worked, he would have found another way."

  "I still—I can't . . ." Tears were now streaming from her eyes.

  "Did the man speak to you when you answered the door?" Cami asked.

  "Yes. I mean, I wouldn't have let a random stranger in! I said, 'Who's that?' and he said, 'Courier'. That was all. I don't remember him saying anything else. He sounded normal."

  "Local? Any accent?"

  "Local, I think. I didn't pick up any strange or unusual accent. I wish I'd put two and two together when he didn't arrive, but my phone rang, and my child was crying, and it was just one of those mornings. It went right out of my mind."

  Cami glanced at Connor. He looked as if he was thinking hard.

  "Is there anything else you can tell us about this man? Anything at all?" Connor asked. "Did you notice a vehicle outside?"

  At street level, she might have done, Cami thought. But Marlene shook her head. "I had my curtains closed," she explained.

  "Is there any signage outside referring to your business?"

  She shook her head. "I'm online, so I don't have signage. The apartment block wouldn't allow it, and in any case, I'm not a shop. I can't have people arriving to look through my stock." Now that she was talking about her work, she seemed to have settled down, Cami thought. She seemed less stressed.

  "So, the only people who know about your business are the couriers and delivery firms?"

  "That's correct."

  "And how often do you get pick-ups?"

  "Almost every weekday morning. I usually get my pickups between seven and nine a.m. One or two different pickups, depending on where stock is going out."

  Cami guessed that if someone had observed and researched the building they would have been able to find this out. Perhaps the killer was looking for a way in, and this had just been the easiest. Connor was right, she realized. If this hadn't been available, he would have found another way. His aim was to gain access quickly, kill, and leave.

  "Thank you, ma'am. What you've told us has been helpful," Connor said.

  "I'm still so shocked. I feel responsible for this. And unsafe too. At the moment I feel as if I should move. Is my family at risk?" she asked in appeal.

  Connor gave a quick nod. "We don’t know enough yet, so precautions are wise. Please, take care and be on the alert. This is a serial case, and we are still gathering information, but he's struck in two very different areas so far."

  Her eyes widened as she heard this news.

  "Everyone needs to be careful until this is solved," Connor concluded. "Be aware of who you let in. And make sure you have good front door security. Keep the chain on."

  "Will do," she said shakily.

  They turned away.

  "This guy must have been planning and observing," Cami said as she and Connor walked back to the lobby. "Maybe he even had a way of researching the building online? Given that he tracked the victims online?"

  "That's a possibility," Connor agreed, but he didn't sound enthused by her idea.

  "You don't think it's likely?"

  "There's another possibility, and it's always the first place we start," he told her.

  "What's that?"

  "It's that this killer was known to the victims. Either one, or both of them, knew him. You'd be surprised how often murders are committed by someone close to the victim. The other one could be a smokescreen, or else the same person could have a link with both. We need to look into the victims’ connections before we go any further."

  CHAPTER SIX

  Immediately after he had spoken the words about the victims’ connections, Connor's thoughts went to that phone, nestled in the evidence bag. There would be a wealth of information on Brooke's phone. She might have interacted with the killer on her phone. Especially if she was very active on social media. If the other victim was, too, perhaps that was a common thread.

  "Can we look on her phone?" Cami asked.

  "Yes, we can.” Normally, the phone would be sent to the techs. But he’d already seen enough of Cami’s IT ability to know that they might be able to work faster this time, even though the phone would then need to be correctly processed as part of the evidence chain. “Are you able to open it?" he asked.

  He made sure to ask question in a matter-of-fact way. As if he didn't doubt Cami's ability to get that phone unlocked and access the information on it, faster than the techs could. Even though he had no idea if she could. It might have been a lucky break the last time. She might not be able to easily repeat that success again.

  "Yes. I saw what model it was. It's about a seventy percent chance I will be able to get into at least some of the content fast," she confirmed.

  He felt a flare of admiration for the unusual youngster he’d been partnered with. It was strange how he was beginning to understand how her mind worked, even though he didn’t allow much of his feelings to show during working hours. Connor had learned it was better to keep the two coldly separate. Experience had taught him that this was a tough, dangerous job, and although loyalty was vital in the FBI, there were perils inherent in getting too close to any partner or colleague. He’d learned that the hard way. The grief in losing a partner who was also a good friend was extreme. Now, Connor preferred to stay behind his walls.

  Quickly, he looked back over the basic case notes in the folder to see if they had identified any contacts so far.

  "Brooke worked for herself," he told Cami. "The social media business is in her name. And it looks as if her parents are both deceased."

  "Does she have any friends or relatives close by?" Cami asked.

  Connor shook his head. "Not according to this. She has a sister living overseas, according to the basic records we've accessed. We don't have more than that. She was interacting on a public news site when she was murdered, commenting on an article about elderly people in care homes that was causing some debate."

  "So anyone could have seen her there?"

  "Yes. Anyone, but the question is, who knew her habits? Did someone know she was likely to be online at that time? Perhaps someone even confirmed she was online. So, we need information on friends, business associates, and if she has a boyfriend. Also, recent messages and calls. While you try to access the phone, I'm going to question the neighbors and see what they can tell us. You do the tech work. I’ll do feet on the ground."

  He strode away, feeling a mixture of irritation and relief at being paired up with this young tech whiz kid again. She most definitely got under his skin. That was for sure. He battled to align with her “no rules matter” mindset. Having her under his supervision was stressful, because he had no clue what she might do at any given moment. She could do nothing or go completely rogue. She'd committed a crime in the past and didn't seem to adequately care about the difference between legal and illegal. Which was a big worry for him. Because Cami and control just didn't go together. The wrong actions could sink the case or even his career.

 

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