Free Flawless by Heather Graham Page A

the ski masks. What I’d like you to do is take the shots from the jewelry store last night—from their security tapes—and line them up with the mug shots. Then I’d like you to compare them with some other pictures I have of a different robbery.” He hesitated and then said, “I don’t mean to lead the witness, but I don’t believe they’re the same men.”
    Millie returned just then with a tray that held a coffeepot, two cups, cream and sugar. Agent Frasier thanked her and asked Kieran how she liked her coffee. She said, “Just cream.”
    He poured her a cup, added cream and handed it to her. Then he sat opposite her and sipped his own coffee. The room grew very quiet.
    At first Kieran felt unnerved. He sat there in silence, leaving her to study the photos, but there was no way for Agent Frasier to be in a room and not be noticeable.
    She tried to give her attention to the pictures. The sooner she did what he’d asked of her, the sooner she could leave.
    To her surprise, she quickly found herself deeply involved in what she was doing. According to their mug shots, the men who had been arrested the night before were Sam Banner, Robert Stella, Lenny Wiener and Mark O’Malley. She glanced at their faces and the stats on their mug shots, and then at the security stills, comparing carefully. Finally she went through them, pointing. “Mark O’Malley was driving the van, obviously. Looking at height and build, I think Sam Banner was the one who dragged me through the store and down the alley.”
    Agent Frasier nodded. “All right. Now I want you to compare them to the men from the other robbery.”
    He got up and moved to stand behind her, then pulled another sheet of photos from the bottom of the stack. “I realize it’s difficult, but do you recognize the men from yesterday in any of these other photos? The way they stood? Something else? I can show you some video, too.”
    She was acutely aware of him behind her. The fabric of his suit, the heat of his body, the scent of his aftershave.
    â€œUh, video would be great.”
    He reached over to tap the keyboard. His nails were neatly clipped. His fingers were long, and she was certain that his hands would be powerful.
    She swallowed and tried to concentrate.
    After a minute, she miraculously managed to do so. She took control of the keyboard herself, running the footage and stopping it when something struck her.
    â€œThere,” she said, pointing. “That’s Sam Banner. You can tell by the way he’s standing and by his height.”
    â€œAll right,” Frasier said, “what about this footage?”
    He reached over again and cued up a new video.
    â€œNo, no, I don’t think that’s Sam Banner. They stand completely differently. Sam keeps his legs apart. He’s angled, almost as if he’s casual about what he’s doing. This man, he stands straighter, and he’s visibly tense. Watch his head move. He’s jerky. He looks—”
    â€œAs if he’s nervous and liable to pull the trigger any second?” Craig asked.
    â€œYes,” she said. “Just my opinion based on my observations, of course,” she said, swiveling her chair to look up at him.
    He smiled. “Educated opinion, though, right?”
    She shrugged. “Honestly, if you asked one of my bosses to—”
    â€œYour bosses weren’t in the van with me,” he said, and walked back to take his seat.
    She’d been about to stand; her work here was done.
    But the way he sat, leaning forward expectantly, his eyes probing...
    No, she wasn’t leaving yet.
    â€œSo what were you doing at the store yesterday?” he asked.
    She immediately felt defensive, but she tried not to do any of the things that would betray her nervousness. Blinking, wetting her lips...
    â€œA friend works there,” she said. “I went to see if he was there. Well, all