One Last Breath by Sarah Sutton (speld decodable readers txt) 📗

you guys. Forensics dusted it but couldn’t get a print off it.” He handed it to Warren, who then turned to Tara. She could see hope swirl in his eyes. Whatever was on that memory card had the potential to give them clues into who the killer was, or where they could find him. Tara felt a sudden flutter in her chest at the thought. But she also thought it seemed too easy. There were no prints. Was it possible that the killer strategically left it at the scene on purpose?

Warren thanked him as he held the bag in front of his face, studying it once more. “Mind if we use your station to take a look?”

Chief Garcia frowned and shook his head, as if Warren’s question didn’t need to be asked.

Warren looked at Tara. He knew that what he held could be a possible lead, and so did she. After a short goodbye to the chief, they turned on their heels, trudging through the sand.

As they neared the parking lot, Warren opened his mouth to speak, but his phone interrupted. He stopped in his tracks as he pulled out his phone and held it to his ear.

“This is Agent Warren.” He grew quiet as he intently listened. He squinted out onto the water.

Tara eagerly waited next to him. She could only think of one person who would call: forensics. It was likely they had the DNA results for the hair found in Brennan’s car and that the cops would have checked out his alibi by now.

After a few moments went by, Warren thanked whoever it was and was quickly off the phone. He turned to Tara.

He sighed. “Brennan’s alibi checks out,” he confirmed, speaking in a low whisper, careful not to be overheard by reporters. Tara nodded with disappointment. She had a gut feeling Brennan wasn’t the killer, but it also confirmed that they were starting from ground zero. “He was with the PI the night Sofia went missing,” Warren added.

“And the hair?” Tara asked.

“It was his ex-wife’s hair,” he replied, only confirming what Tara already suspected. She had remembered what his ex-wife had said, that her husband had brought over boxes of her things to her sister’s place unsolicited. It was likely that he had put those belongings in his trunk and that her hair was on them.

Warren looked over at the reporters standing yards away from them, by the entrance to the beach. They were too far to overhear, but they were watching Tara and Warren intently.

“We should go,” he finally said.

Tara nodded, and they both turned to their cars. They walked in silence as one question continued to dominate Tara’s mind. If Brennan wasn’t the killer, then who was?

Chapter Twenty Two

Warren and Tara stood next to the computer, hovering over a row of memory card adapters. The police station had given them every device they had that could possibly read the memory card, but so far none of them had worked. Some were too large for the card, others too small, and those that fit caused an error message to flash across the screen.

Tara was beginning to lose hope. She could hear the clock ticking away in her head each time another adapter failed. They needed to know what was on that card, and every moment that they wasted was an opportunity for the killer to plan for his next victim. It sent a chill down Tara’s spine.

“I had no idea this would be so difficult,” she admitted in frustration. She had only owned one camera in her life, and she knew that memory cards required adapters, but she didn’t know that each card was so unique in what it required.

Warren sighed as he shook his head. He tried another, and another, until he was at the last one in the row. He slid the memory card into the adapter and plugged in the USB. They waited, a linger of hope beginning to intensify. But then Card Error flashed across the screen.

Warren shook his head again, letting out another sigh as he fully stood up. Tara did the same.

“We’ll have to go to a camera store,” Tara said.

Warren nodded. They both knew that a camera store was not only where they would find the correct adapter, but they would also learn more information on what type of camera was used. It could also help them narrow down who would own one, or if anyone had bought one in the area.

Tara took a seat at the computer as Warren pulled a chair up next to her. She opened a search engine and began to search for any stores in the area. She started in the area they now were, by Fowler Beach, but after scrolling through a string of results and searching a few different ways, nothing of interest popped up. It was just as Tara expected. There weren’t many commercial buildings in the area, from what she could see, and it was hard to envision a camera store.

Her fingers clicked on the keyboard. Her next destination was Dewey Beach. She had a good feeling that she would find something as she scrolled through the results. After all, it was where the murders started. She suspected that it was more likely the killer would purchase a camera in that area. It was also a more touristy area and seemed fitting for a camera store.

Warren leaned in closer as Tara let the mouse hover over a location. It was exactly what they were looking for—a store that sold all kinds of cameras and gear—and it was right in the center of town. Without even a word, Warren took out his phone and put the address in his GPS.

“It’s about thirty-five minutes,” he said as he suddenly stood up, heading to the door.

Tara was right behind him. As she reached the door frame, she looked down at her phone, tight in her grip. It was now 9:00 a.m., and the realization gave Tara a sudden burst in