“Right.” He tapped. “I got you in our system and your space number is fourteen. Here you are live, now.” Greg pointed to a monitor showing Emma’s SUV. “We’ll go back on the footage for your lot.”

Footage moved at high speed showing cars parking, people exiting, and then showing Emma. Nothing unusual.

“Doesn’t look like anyone hit anyone,” Greg said.

Then a blip, a flash of color and Greg tapped more commands.

“Here we go,” he said.

A woman with dark glasses approached Emma’s car, placed an envelope under the wiper and left the frame.

“I don’t recognize her,” Greg said. “Let me pull in on her.”

“Can you run through it all again, so I can record it?” Emma got her phone.

Greg hesitated. “You won’t post it or share it?”

“Just for me.”

“All right, just for you.”

Emma recorded as Greg ran through the sequence again, slowing it when the woman emerged. Then the camera zoomed closer. The woman was wearing dark glasses, a white ball cap. But Emma could determine her hair was a dark shade of blond. She wore a light blue T-shirt, jeans, pink sneakers and had a good figure. Emma guessed her to be about her age, but didn’t recognize her.

“She look familiar?” Greg asked.

“No.”

“I don’t see her leaving a car,” Greg said switching to other cameras, tracking the woman as she left the lot, disappearing from the screens.

“Oh darn,” Emma said.

“Wait.” Greg entered more commands. “Is it possible you bumped her on the street? We can use our outpost cameras.” A few more commands and Greg, with Emma still recording, found the woman walking to the green sedan across the street, the very car Emma had pursued on foot the previous day, and there she was in the frame.

“That looks like you chasing after her,” Greg said.

“Yes, but she drove off.”

They watched as the woman did just that and Emma stopped recording.

“I guess that’s it, Greg. Thanks for trying. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Hang on.” He tapped a few more commands. “Look, nothing shows you hitting any cars in our camera range. But some of our outdoor cameras can capture license plate information.”

“Really?”

“For liability, for security, you name it.” He continued tapping and Emma resumed recording. “This woman could be running an insurance scam, you know, give you a note claiming you hit her, but pay her X amount and she’ll keep it off the books, that kind of thing.”

“I see.”

“Looks like she has a Ford Focus, and here’s her plate.” The camera zoomed in, enlarged the plate. Emma recorded it.

“Let me see,” Greg said, carefully tapping the plate number on his keyboard, submitting it to the school’s database. “Naw, it doesn’t come up as staff, student or parent, or anything flagged on our lists.”

“Thanks a million, Greg.”