Ashes to Dust (Las Vegas Mystery)

Snow waited near the cash register for the store manager. He arrived a few minutes later, and Snow introduced himself and Alice. He showed the manager his PI license and the boots.
    “We’re investigating a murder,” Snow said. “We believe the perpetrator may have purchased these boots from this store between the hours of, say, three and seven p.m., a week ago Tuesday.”
    The store manager nodded. “Okay.”
    Alice held out three photo printouts of Crystal. “These are pictures of the woman we believe may have purchased the boots during that time. However, it’s possible it might have been someone else.”
    “Okay,” he said. “How can I help?”
    “We would appreciate it very much,” Alice said, “if you could go back through your security camera footage covering the time between three and seven p.m. Tuesday, September fourteenth, and see if the woman in these photos or anyone else bought a pair of these boots in a size twelve.”
    The store manager pulled out a pad of notepaper and a pen and scribbled. He looked at the tag on the work boots and scribbled some more. He put the pad of paper and pen back in his pocket. “Okay,” he said.
    Snow handed him his business card. “Call us, either one of us, at the cell phone numbers on this card as soon as you’ve checked. We need to know either way. Okay?”
    The store manager smiled. “You got it,” he said.
    They shook hands all around and left the store.

    To broaden the scope of their shoe investigation, Alice and Snow visited four other Walmarts. They were farther from Crystal’s residence, but it was possible, they decided, that Crystal may have driven to a store further away, just in case someone figured out her plan—yet didn’t feel like doing too much legwork.
    After speaking with the store managers at those outlets, they returned to the office. While they waited, Alice searched the Web sites of other department stores, such as Kmart and Kohl’s, to see if any of them sold that same model of work boot.
    Walmart was the only chain that carried it.
    By five p.m. all five of the managers had called to report that, during the time specified on that Tuesday, no one had bought a pair of those boots in any size.
    After the fifth phone call, Snow snapped his cell phone shut, set it on Alice’s desk, and leaned back in his swivel chair.
    “Fuck,” he said. “We’re dead in the water.”
    “Not yet,” Alice said.
    “What do you mean ‘not yet’?” Snow asked.
    “There are fifteen more Walmarts in the Las Vegas area.”
    “You want to check all of them?” Snow said, staring at her in disbelief.
    “Yes,” Alice said. “She might have assumed, correctly, that the homicide investigators assigned to the case would only check the stores nearest her residence. That only makes sense. Right?”
    “Right,” Snow agreed.
    “Then we will do what doesn’t make sense. We’ll check all twenty Walmarts.”
    Snow stared at her, frowning. “Today?”
    “Yes,” Alice said. “We have enough time. We’ll split up. You take seven. I’ll take eight.”
    “What about dinner?” Snow asked.
    “It’ll be late,” Alice said. “We should be done by ten.”
    “The buffets will be closed before then,” Snow said. “And this sounds like a real long shot. My gut feeling is that this is a waste of time.”
    Alice sighed. “Alright, Jim. You cover as many as you can, and I’ll take the rest. I don’t want you to go hungry.”
    Snow chuckled and shook his head. “Alright. I’ll take eight, Alice. You take seven.”
    “I’ll flip you for it,” Alice said.

    Alice covered the south and east, Snow the west and north.
    He was making good time and had organized his procedure by calling ahead to speak with each of the store managers before he got there. This enabled him to meet each manager near the front doors, explain what he needed, and hand the manager the photos of Crystal. And then call the next one.
    At eight fifteen, in North Las Vegas, Snow was jogging back to his car when his cell phone chirped. He slowed to a walk, pulled it out, and checked the number.
    “Alice,” he said. “I’m doing really good. Only two left.”
    “I’m doing better,” Alice said. “We just hit the jackpot!”
    “What?” Snow stopped walking. He stopped breathing.
    She sounded out of breath. “I just got a call from one of the stores on Eastern Avenue. They identified Crystal Olson purchasing that same pair of boots, size twelve, at four thirty-five