CHAPTER ELEVEN
By the time Rylie pulled up at the precinct, it was almost ten in the evening. She’d been lagging, too, even with the coffee, so she rolled down the windows in the truck and let the cool air brace her.
They went inside to a skeleton crew of officers, all new faces from earlier that day. A guy Michael clearly didn’t know was manning the front desk, because Michael pulled out his credentials and said, “We were here earlier. Do you have a VCR we can check out?”
The officer said, “What the hell is a VCR?”
Rylie looked at him. He was pretty young-looking, but after being called Mom by Brisbane, along with the fatigue, she felt like she was a thousand years old. She held up the tape. “For this?”
He squinted at it like he’d never seen it before.
“Can we take a look around in
