She clicked out of her own folder and started poking around in others. They were filled with the same kind of stuff Frederica had found on Virginia’s camera: infidelity, kink, and the like. There were also a handful of gamblers and parole violators and….
“Parole,” she muttered to herself, then her breath caught in her throat.
She tossed Virginia’s laptop and camera into her bag and flew out the window.
The Victory City Parole Office was a suite in a larger government building downtown. Frederica rode the elevator up to the seventh floor and approached the counter. A petite black woman—“Jeanette” according to the nameplate in front of her—looked up.
“Good afternoon,” she said with a welcoming smile. “How can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m not sure if this is the right place,” Frederica said, “but I’m trying to find the officer in charge of a parolee named Virginia Keating. She was released a few years ago. I’m not sure exactly when.”
“Okay, let me take a look,” Jeanette said, tapping away at her computer. “Ms. Keating’s file is being handled by… Doug Paulson. He’s in a meeting at the moment but I can schedule an appointment if you like. His next opening is… Friday afternoon.”
“Is there really nothing sooner?” Frederica asked. “It’s sort of urgent.”
“Hmm,” Jeanette muttered. “Well, I could see if he can squeeze you in briefly between appointments, if you don’t mind waiting.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
“Alrighty.” Jeanette gestured to a row of chairs behind Frederica. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thanks,” Frederica said. “I really appreciate it.”
She smiled and looked into the woman’s eyes. As she settled into one of the hard plastic chairs, Frederica focused on Jeanette’s memories, bringing up the image of Virginia’s file displayed on the computer screen just moments ago.