“Agreed. Besides, a mere threat that would likely lead nowhere doesn’t seem like grounds for murder. If he’s involved with the cartel, though, and Stephanie and her boyfriend stumbled into one of the deliveries or retrievals—that’s a different scenario.”

“Very. And since Kayla verified the earring I found belonged to Stephanie, that seems more and more plausible.”

“A providential find—at a high cost to you.”

“I’ll heal.” She angled her computer toward him. “Evans isn’t the only one with a shadow hanging over his head.” She tapped a few keys, and a nighttime video appeared on the screen.

He leaned closer. “That’s from the surveillance camera at the back road into Ivy Hill, near the barn.”

“Yes. Notice the date.”

He squinted at the small date/time stamp in the bottom right corner. “This is from the night Stephanie disappeared.”

“Correct. Look at this.” She rewound the video for a few seconds and hit play.

He concentrated on the screen as a silent minute ticked by. Two. Three.

There was no activity.

“How long am I supposed to watch this? Nothing’s happening.”

She stopped the video. Rewound it again. “Watch it again—but focus on the date/time stamp.” She started it over.

After a minute and a half, the time changed from twelve-thirty to one-thirty.

A full hour of the tape had been deleted.

Zeke shifted his attention to her. “Your people missed this?”

Her shoulders stiffened. “So did you, on your first viewing. How often do you pay close attention to the date/time stamp while you’re watching surveillance video, unless there’s activity you have to document?”

She had a point. Rarely did detectives or agents watch hours of video at normal speed. The usual method was to fast-forward through until something caught your attention.

And there’d been no activity on this video.

“You’re right. How did you find it?”

“I fast-forwarded too—but I checked the date/time stamp every ten minutes, beginning at ten-thirty.”

“So someone doctored this video. Will Fischer—or one of the other security people—are the obvious suspects. They’d have easy access to this.”

“And motive, if they’re tied up with your drug pipeline.”

“All of them came back clean in our background check, though.”

“Ours too. But I think we should dig deeper.”

“I agree. You want to handle this, or should we?”

“We’ll tackle this one.” She shifted her weight, as if seeking a comfortable position.

Her slight grimace suggested the attempt hadn’t succeeded.

“Why don’t we finish this discussion over there?” He nodded toward the cluster of upholstered furniture. “That would be more comfortable.”

“I think we’re finished—unless you have other information to share.”

“I do.”

She narrowed her eyes, studying him. “Case related?”

He hesitated.

If he told her the truth—that he wanted to venture into personal territory—she could shut down. Throw him out.