People in the know informed her that Detective Young had a decent record. He’d made a lateral move from Phoenix PD four years ago after his divorce, bringing along his daughter, now nine. He had full custody, so there might be something to the rumors she’d heard about his “crazy” ex-wife. Not relevant, but it was always good to know as much as possible about the background and motivations of the people around you. The big plus was that he was considered a good cop; the big negative was that he rarely worked overtime and didn’t pick up the slack, causing some friction among his colleagues. That could be because he was a single dad, or it could be because he was lazy, or a combination of both. The Candace Swain homicide was the first homicide in Flagstaff that he’d worked, but he hadn’t been in homicide in Phoenix, which suggested that it may have been the first homicide he had ever worked.

After chatting with local cops who still knew and loved her dad, Regan headed over to the campus. She confirmed with NAUPD that security tapes were deleted after thirty days; nothing had been saved from the week Candace had disappeared, except for the dorm recordings from that weekend when she first went missing through the Sunday her body was found.

Young most likely had possession of that tape. She wondered why he hadn’t requested more. But with a property that size, she supposed if he asked for the whole week for the entire campus it would be a substantial amount of data. By the time he’d learned that the victim hadn’t drowned in the lake, the aquatic center recordings had been erased.

She also learned more about security at the library. Doors and windows that opened were wired. No motion sensors inside that might have tripped an alarm. Security cameras in the lobby, the information desk, the entrances, elevator interiors, technology wing, and rare-books room. That left more than half the square footage not covered by cameras, including none of the bathrooms or study rooms.

Regan decided to take a walk around the library herself to identify all the cameras. The library had changed quite a bit since she’d been there. The lobby had been remodeled and felt more open; the study rooms on the first and second floors now had glass walls, and they didn’t feel as claustrophobic; and the technology center had moved over. The tech center had its own wing and a secondary door, which could be locked separately from the main library.

Where would someone hide at closing time? She was surprised by how much space was not covered by cameras—such as the entire third floor, outside of the elevator bank, and the staircases.