The High Priestess - The Darkest Desires Series

XV

W

hile Hale had questioned Echo again McQueen had focused on the hit man Mrs. Farrows had spoken about. Still clinging to her innocence there wasn't much to go on, but she had given them an address for a street corner where 'she was lead to believe' there would be a public phone box still in operation and could call the hit man on. The tech team had been tracing calls all day and finding cameras to see who had placed a call. They also hoped - more importantly - they could trace who the calls had been made too.

It had made McQueen laugh out loud when the Techs had told him they had a camera that perfectly picked up anyone who used the phone. Not only would that mean they could catch Mrs. Farrows placing the call, but anyone else who may have had grievances with a spouse. Mrs. Farrow's denial was falling apart and their case on her was building.

"Anything?" He asked as he walked into the dimly lit room. Eight computer screens were up and running and it was only Two and another guy typing away.

"Hay McQueen." Two answered, spinning on his chair. McQueen had too feel sorry for the kid. The Department had to be low on funds if they had Two working not only as coroners' photographer but a tech guy as well. McQueen remembered to put that question aside for later. Maybe when he went to see his apartment and get to know the roommates. It could be a good ice breaker. "So, the short and long of it is, we have Mrs. Farrows placing all call to a number, woo." He cheered spinning his chair in a three-sixty.

"That's good." McQueen chuckled. He liked the kid's energy, though he probably wasn't that much younger than himself. "Is that the short bit or the long bit?"

"Well, the short is a little long, and the long of it is even longer than that." Two widened his eyes in dramatic effect. "So, the short, short bit of the already short bit, is I found another woman calling the same number from the same payphone only a few weeks before." He grinned, "I got a couple of guys running her face through Mrs. Farrow's friends on social media. In short, we have caught another contract killing who by my guess, killed her husband much like Mrs. Farrows wanted."

"That's great." A blanket of peace settled on McQueen shoulders and he felt a warm rush through his body. Through all this horror and pain, they had at least done some good. Some justice had been found. "And the long?" He prompted.

"The long of it: the number they called only leads to a blocked number behind some fancy firewall system. I've been at it for a couple of hours but all I've got is the address to a cybercafé; who knew they still existed." Two joked, but McQueen just looked at him expectantly. "Right, right, moving on. Anyway, I dug deeper and found the Café's members list..."

"Found?" McQueen asked but it did crack a small smile on his lips.

Two waved away his concerns. "Yes, I 'found' it, I know the blurry lines of the law, now listen; I worked through all the names and crossed off the horny teenage not even out of school, little old grannies and one-time sign ups. What was left were the regulars and any shady characters." Two grabbed a thin folder and handed it over, "That all together made a literal long list of men matching your profile, living in the town and its surrounding areas."

McQueen choked as he took in the list. It was four pages long but had at least eight different address on each page. Thirty-two men who could potentially be their hit-man. That was if they were stupid enough to leave their real name and address at the cybercafé. McQueen shook his head. "This will take forever. At least we can try to narrow down the list." He tried to hand it back to Two. "Can you take off anyone older then seventy, anyone younger than seventeen and any one already incarcerated. We should also remove anyone who'd been in police custody. If this is a hit man, he's probably been off the radar before now..." McQueen trailed off as Two looked at him with a pitiful smile. "It already is, isn't it?" McQueen asked, lowering his arm in defeat.