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

Inside, it was vast, with numerous rows and sections. Tara couldn’t even see an end in sight as she looked ahead of her. It was still early, but customers were scattered about, surveying gear and cameras and disappearing amongst the rows. She watched as one customer walked past her to a long counter. It was to the right of her, taking up the majority of the front end of the store. She looked at Warren and bobbed her head in its direction and then led the way.

There was only one person behind the counter. He looked to be in his early thirties, with a thick beard. He helped the customer briefly, giving him directions on where to find a specific item. And when the customer stepped away, he turned to Tara and Warren.

“Can I help you?”

Tara looked around her. There were no customers within earshot, but there were still many present throughout the store, and she wanted to be discreet. She flashed her badge. The sight of it brought a shot of life into the man’s face. His eyes opened wide. “Is there a manager we can speak to?” She looked around her again. Another customer was approaching the counter, and she turned to face him again. “In private,” she added.

The man looked startled for a moment, as if he needed to make sense of what he was hearing, but then he nodded abruptly. “One moment,” he replied before turning to a door behind him and disappearing.

He returned moments later with a middle-aged man in tow. He had a nametag on his shirt that read Manager, with his name, Darnell Brown, underneath. He nodded for the younger guy to help a customer standing next to Tara and Warren and turned back toward them.

He was bald, except for traces of black hair beginning to grow in, like a five ‘o’clock shadow, across the top of his head. He narrowed his eyes, his eyebrows almost touching from his furrowed brow. He carried a look of skepticism rather than concern.

“I supposed you want to speak in private?” he asked.

Tara nodded, and without another word, he motioned for them to come around the counter and into the room he had just come from. They followed him down a hallway, past different rooms filled with boxes and equipment. Tara’s eyes wandered into them as she spotted workers busy unpacking newly arrived items and placing them atop a cart to wheel out into the store.

Once they neared the end of the hallway, he stopped in front of the manager’s office and led them inside. It was a small room with a desk, computer, and surveillance cameras of the store. Once the door closed, he turned to face them and crossed his arms. “Well, what can I help you with?”

Tara had been holding the memory card in an evidence bag in her hand. She held it out in front of her, and the manager leaned forward and squinted.

“We’re trying to determine what type of camera this might’ve been used with,” she explained.

He reached out, asking to hold it for a better look, and Tara placed it in his palm. He held it up to the light, reading the manufacturer information. “This is a C-Fast memory card,” he stated as he continued to turn it in the light, but it was information Tara and Warren already knew. He handed it back to Tara. “I can’t say exactly, but definitely a high-end Canon. Could be a Canon IOS or an XC10.”

“Do you sell those here?” she asked.

The manager nodded without hesitation. “What’s this about, anyway?” He looked between Tara and Warren, trying to find any information in their expressions, but Tara knew he wouldn’t find any.

“We’re looking for the person who owned this memory card,” Tara confirmed. “We think they might be connected to a case we’re working on.” She didn’t reveal any more information. It was unnecessary. She didn’t want the full truth to steer him away from admitting what he knew.

He didn’t respond. His eyes just narrowed as he nodded once more. He was curious, as anyone would be, but Tara had only given him a small morsel, and he wanted more.

“Has anyone recently come in here to purchase one of these?” Tara asked.

But the manager only let out a small grunt, revealing the absurdity of her question. “This is a popular store. I get people in and out of here all the time buying things like this.”

It was clear this was not going to be easy. But Tara knew the only other option to finding whose images were on the camera was by tracking down the fire. If they didn’t find answers here, that’s what they would do next, but Tara didn’t want this visit to be a waste. She knew it was extremely likely that the owner of the memory card had stepped in this store. It was the only one of its kind around. It was well known and a major attraction to anyone seeking high-end equipment, and they sold cameras that used the same type of memory card. Tara knew she had to dig harder.

“Do you get a lot of return customers?”

“Definitely. We get a few, although not a ton since we’re outside of D.C. There aren’t too many professionals around here, but we do have some photographers and some independent journalists or stringers that come in here regularly.”

Tara looked down at the memory card. Maybe he could recognize the house fire photos, or pinpoint a person who might’ve taken them, she wondered. She grabbed her phone from her pocket. “Do you happen recognize any of these images?” she asked as she pulled open her email and downloaded them. “Or anyone who might’ve taken them?” She stood next to the manager as she scrolled through the images one by one. She watched his face for a reaction. His eyes narrowed, and hope fluttered in Tara’s chest at the hope that he recognized them. At the last image, he looked up.

“There is a stringer