He directed his next question to the head of security. “Do you have a camera outside to show how he got away?”

Once again Gray leaned in to tap his keyboard, then stepped back, letting the video play. “He wasn’t trying too hard to hide his face,” the man observed as Belmont ran out the back door, then kicked the brick away.

Tom had noticed that. Of course, Belmont had operated under the radar for years. He probably thought it didn’t matter even if they did see his face. He probably figured that once he got rid of Mercy Callahan he’d disappear back under the Eden rock from where he’d crawled.

Squaring his shoulders, Belmont slowed his pace. In one hand, he carried a guitar case, which he slid across the floorboards of a box truck with a sign proclaiming him to be a plumber.

Tom’s throat thickened as he recognized the truck despite the bogus plumbing sign. It had belonged to the man Belmont had murdered a month ago as he’d fled the scene at Dunsmuir. Where he’d murdered five FBI agents, executed Ephraim Burton, and shot Amos.

The surveillance camera caught the license plates as the truck peeled out of the parking lot, kicking up gravel and dust. “Pause it, please,” Tom requested. He then took a photo of the monitor with his phone, capturing the license plate number. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll still need a copy of the footage. Sergeant Howell has my contact info.”

The CSU tech gave him a little salute. “Of course.”

Croft relinquished Gray’s chair. “Thank you, gentlemen.”

“Should we be watching for this man to return?” Gray asked. “My clients in the building are understandably shaken at hearing that a gunman was on the roof.”

“Probably not,” Croft said. “He was aiming at a specific target. It’s unlikely that the person he wanted to shoot will return.”

Gray nodded grimly. “Thanks. I’ll let my clients know.”

“Tell them that we said your surveillance system is excellent,” Tom said. “So many cameras get a grainy feed that’s all but useless. Yours is crystal clear.”

Gray dipped his head, his expression appreciative. “Now if I can only get the employees to stop propping that door open to take a smoke, my life would be peachy.”

Tom frowned. “Was the door alarmed?”

“It was supposed to have been,” Gray said with a scowl. “That door is entry by key card only. The alarm should have alerted everyone when it remained unsecured. Someone deactivated it, and I’m going to find out who.”

“I don’t think it was your guy, though,” the CSU tech offered. “He just walked in and didn’t seem to touch anything but that guitar case.”

“Unless he planned it,” Gray mused. “He could have come earlier and set everything up.”

It was possible, although unlikely unless they had a mole in the field office who had alerted him that the women were visiting this optometrist. The security footage would reveal if Belmont had been there earlier. Tom gave both men his business card. “Let me know if you think of anything else.”