Haunted by the Past (Original)

Chapter 46

After three hours of driving and with another hour to go, Eli finally broke into the CCTV network of the building at One Columbus Circle.

"I've got good news and then I've got bad news," he announced. Before I could tell him my preference, he continued, "I'm in and I can see Jorge and the woman entering the freight elevator, but that's as far as I can see."

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"The CCTV network I'm on doesn't cover inside the private elevator, nor does it cover any of the eighth floor where the studios are. That would've been part of the previous occupant's own network, but as no one is currently leasing that space, there doesn't seem to be an active network," he leant back with a sigh. "With Jorge still conscious, this footage can't be used to implicate anyone."

"Ok, but what happens before or after? Can you catch Triple-6 going up before them?" I suggested optimistically.

"That's just it, no one else goes into the elevator for at least 48 hours before and the woman doesn't come back out," he ran his fingers through his hair in dismay.

"Is there another way up to the eighth floor?" I frowned.

"Sure, but it's via a shared stairwell," he shook his head. "I don't have good coverage in the stairwell so none of it would hold up in court."

"Since when were we worried about court?" I arched my eyebrow.

"Dani, do you really want to risk going after the wrong person?" he argued. "There are hundreds of other people using that building."

I clicked my tongue, then glanced down at the fuel gauge, "We should refill at the next rest stop."

"Yeah, good idea," he nodded as he shut his laptop close again. "And I'll drive the rest of the way."

I was about to protest and say I was more than able to drive the rest of the way, but honestly, after three hours of driving, I welcomed the break. After swapping I checked up on the news. There were still no updates on Jorge and I had to wonder if the police were even as far as we were into the investigation.

"They still haven't found him," I sighed. Eli only shrugged in response. "Should we, I don't know, tell them?"

"You want to tell the police where the crime scene is?" he frowned. "That's like giving them a signed confession."

"Eli, his body is out there – who knows where!?" I exclaimed, then showed him a photo of Jorge's mother talking to the press. "He has family! She deserves to know what has become of her son!"

Eli clicked his tongue and turned his head away. "We don't know if the body is still there."

"Eli," I nagged, sounding more like a mother talking to a teenage son than whatever we were.

He groaned, "The police have a form on their website for submitting anonymous tips. Submit one saying you saw Jorge and a woman entering One Columbus Circle, but that's it, ok? Nothing about Triple-6 or the phone call."

"That's not a lot for them to go on," I rolled my eyes. "They may not even follow up on that."

"Lie and say you are a resident of the building or whatever then," he responded with frustration. "And you saw them going to the freight elevator. But nothing else! If you include too much detail, they'll try to chase up the tip."

Nodding in understanding, I went to the NYPD's website. After some searching through the front page, I finally found the link to the Crime Stoppers online form for submitting tips. It felt strange to fill it out as if I was a resident of the building, and it was such a detailed form, but I only filled in what I felt was necessary. Letting out a deep breath, I clicked on the submit button, sending my hopes with the form. We couldn't save Jorge, but if we could at least bring him home to his mother then maybe I could begin to find solace.